That’s right. For the first time in my life, ever, I actually saw a skywriter! Yay! I was at a picnic, and I looked up and there was a gigantic “W” in the air above my head.
I, in my humble way, immediately assumed that it was one of my thousands of female adorers professing their love to me in the clouds. But, instead of an “A,” the next letter was an “I.” So much for that.
But the next letter was an “L,” so I decided that it was somebody asking somebody else to marry them. Awwwww…
Until he put a “D” up there. Then I was just confused.
I watched him write the rest of the message, and it ended up being “Wild Wings.” It was then that I realized what he’d been writing.
It was an advertisement.
For the skywriting company.
All in all, it was one of the most dissapointing experiences of my life.
Your parents named you WALT? You were born in what, 1984? It’s a perfectly lovely name, but I bet you were the only one in your kindergarten class. Did you get teased? Did people ask you if you were named after Walt Disney?
Oh, um, skywriters. They’re cool! (I had to think of something.)
Actually, I’m getting asked the Disney question more now that I’m in college than I ever did when I was in kindergarten. At one of the a capella auditions I went to, the guys spent three minutes thinking up famous Walts (and I STILL didn’t get in).
Not to say that the elementary school years were completely devoid of name-mocking, though. Thanks for opening up old wounds, Myrnalene.
I remember in high school during track practice, one of our teachers came up to us and said in an unusually somber voice: “Have you ever gazed upon the face of God?” at which point he then gestured toward the sky, where a skywriter had just finished drawing a giant, goofy-looking smile face.
I don’t know about the other guys, but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t stand up for at least ten minutes.
I didn’t think they were that uncommon. I’ve seen lots.
My best sucky skywriter experience:
In Santa Cruz, they were having some sort of beach festival thing sponsored by Cuervo Tequila. They had a skywriter who was supposed to write “CUERVO”.
He left out the “E”, and the “C” looked like a “J”: JURVO.
Back around to try it again. This time, he spelled it right, but the wind must have picked up up there, because the “C” was illegible by the time he was on the “R”. At which point he gave up and flew away, presumably to rush to the bank to try to cash the check before the Cuervo people got around to cancelling it…
Jester, your the guy from sosuave right? dj all the way. i go there but dont post much and on a different name. You live in pittsburgh right? Ever hear of North Huntingdon township? Norwin?
Jester, your the guy from sosuave right? dj all the way. i go there but dont post much and on a different name. You live in pittsburgh right? Ever hear of North Huntingdon township? Norwin?
Hey, my first boyfriend was named Walt! He was probably born in 1960 or so.
And my father, uncle, and brother all called him, “WAAAAAAL-ter” (said with a nasal, whining inflection). I think, however, that had a lot more to do with the fact that he wore his third-place track medal on a ribbon around his neck than it did with his actual name.
Ferrous, they may be common where you’re from, but I’ve never seen one in my entire life, so it was quite the novel experience. That sucks about the CUERVOS guy, though.
Sublight, that made my day.
And smorgan, I’ve never been over to sosuave (I’m assuming that it’s an MB, right?). Unless the guy posting under the name “Jester” over there is immensely cool, in which case yes, it is me, and that first sentence was just a test to see if you were cool enough to hang out with me. (That didn’t work, did it.)
InternetLegend, it couldn’t have all been the medal, because people do the exact same thing to me. They also call me “Wally,” “WALter,” and “WalTERRRRR,” depending on their mood. Yeah, people suck. What can I say.
