Ever since I was like 9 years old I've had this idea in the back of my head that I want to fly. That's part of the reason why I'm so obsessed with clouds. I wanna be up in 'em. The big, fat cumulous ones. You know, the giant White Mountains that just inexplicably float. Up there, defying gravity, and giving the finger to common sense. Way up there in the sky.
Think about how you could go adventuring around and through and betwixt and between and behind and under and over a ginormous flock of those things, exploring all up in them like I used to do in that old barn when I was a kid, burrowing a network of tunnels through stacks of hay bales.
Like I said, back when I was about 9 years old - you know, that age whenever you think anything is possible - I worked up this plan with a friend of mine to make hot air balloons out of trash bags. We were gonna fly with those things, and I just knew it. We both dreamed about that for weeks, fully intending to make it real, and meaning it. I don't think it's possible to be more serious about something than a 9 year old with a head full of dreams. However, what with being 9 years old and all, and that being what it is and meaning what it means, we eventually moved on to other interests and impossible ideas, and... surprise. We never did build those balloons.
I don't harbor any illusions about realistically ever being able to do that. I'm not talking about building hot air balloons out of Hefty bags; that's obviously just a beautiful dream. Ridiculous, but beautiful. No, I'm taking about exploring all up in those cloud mountains. I'm an adult now, with an adults understanding of the realistic differences between childhood dreams and cold, hard reality. No... no trash bag hot air balloons. I am gonna build a hang glider, though.
Bamboo, duct tape, 4 millimeter plastic sheeting, bolts, wing nuts, washers, a couple of sketched out diagrams and plans I found online, and a Big Fat F You to anybody who says 'you're crazy, you're stupid, you can't teach yourself how to do that, you'll kill yourself, only a complete moron, or maybe just a suicidal idiot would build a hang glider out of bamboo and duct tape and uh... unusually thick plastic bags and then actually try to fly it without any lessons'.
Well, I ain't any of those things, but that's what I'm gonna do. Man, I just can't frikin' wait. It's gonna be awesome. And don't worry, some guy who said he'd done all of this before posted all of the know-how on the internet, so I've got all the info I need. I can just make the rest up as I go along as I need to, just like everybody else who ever figured out anything kick-ass. Like James Clerk Maxwell.