Long ago, decease when dinosaurs and rotary dial phones roamed the Earth and I had a thick head of hair and longed for a girlfriend, a buddy gave me some good advice about how to be more successful with the ladies.
“Chin up,” said my happily dating friend. “Nobody likes a whiner.”
His no nonsense advice worked. There is nary a reasonable explanation for why my wife, generic a woman of great intellect, charm and beauty really ever should have accepted my invitation to lunch, dating, marriage, and having a couple of kids other than the fact that I tend to smile a lot. As lives go, I’ve got absolutely nothing to complain about. I remember my good fortune by sporting an upturned mouth as much as I possibly can.
A “chin up” attitude to life has profoundly affected my relationship with all the people I come across in the course of a regular day. A smile and upturned eyes go a long way towards quickly letting someone know, “Hey, I think you’re great. Let’s get to know each other a little better.” For certain and for sure, I’m a big advocate of the chin up posture.
I have applied this head-in-the sky attitude to the full physical world around me. I like to remind friends and family that when visiting a new city or entering a building, it is always best to take a moment to look up. You will very often be surprised at gifts of whimsy that architects leave for great visual explorers in the world’s upper altitudes. I’ve caught goofy giggling fools’ heads cast in stone, soaring ornamental birds of prey, and ribald frescos gracing a ceiling just because I took a moment to arch my head towards the heavens.
It’s with that joyful upturned eye that I made a recent and most gratifying discovery in the already lustrous Pfister lobby. One of the ceiling cherubs bouncing on puffy clouds and celebrating our Salve motto is, and has been for several days, clutching a bright red balloon.
There are plenty of plausible reasons why a crimson colored Mylar balloon is stuck on the Pfister ceiling. We’ve just come off a busy Valentine’s weekend at the hotel, where lovers aplenty shared roses, glasses of champagne, snugs, and a happy helium balloon or 47. I can imagine that as some dreamy eyed sap reached out to take the soft hand of his or her beloved in a tender embrace, that love balloon floated from a once clutched paw now open for hand holding business. You know what they say, “A hand in hand is better than a balloon in the bush.” Or something like that.
Let’s put practical thinking aside for a moment, though, and just fixate on the fanciful. That’s what happens when you move your gaze from a lower perch to an elevated pose. You start to dream bigger. Everything looks riper and more full of possibility. You are suddenly able to imagine that its certainly possible that one of the cherubs in the Pfister lobby ceiling scene was gifted that balloon by some other dancing spirit with a mad crush.
Could happen, right? If you believe it, than anything is possible. Me? I’m just happy to look up and watch that balloon gently float above the crowds of happy visitors as the days go by. That balloon will probably have to come down to earth someday soon, but for now its opened the heavens and my heart in ways that make me believe there’s a little more love to go around an already glorious hotel.
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