Diary of a Wimpy Kid Balloon Handler
The first question typically asked by friends upon learning I am a Balloon Handler in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade is “How do you get to do that?” According to the bylaws, you must be an employee, a family member or friend of an employee of Macy’s, or a member of an affiliated organization to be eligible. You must apply, be selected and approved by Macy's Studios. Handlers must be at least 18 years old, in good physical condition, and weigh at least 120 pounds to safely manage the large balloons. You must also attend a training session to learn how to fly the giant characters.
In my case, it began over chips ’n’ dip at a neighbor’s apartment when my wife and I learned the woman living directly above us happens to be a Parade Flight Management Captain. With such authority comes the perk of being able to sponsor Balloon Handlers for her team. We immediately raised our hands, expressing unbridled enthusiasm at the opportunity to take part in this iconic event we’d witnessed over the years from streetside viewpoints, windows overlooking the route, and, of course, on television while the aroma of turkey roasting in the oven signaled the arrival of holiday season. We were informed that this is a serious commitment. Our performance would reflect on our Captain. We assured her we were up to the task. She agreed to submit a guest request on our behalf. If it was accepted, an Official Volunteer Registration would be forthcoming.
From the time we submitted our applications in August, it would be months before we learned of our balloon assignment. The discovery that I will be tethered to an inflatable literary character prompted me to borrow the book that tells his story and craft this account of my experience in the form of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid.
August 6
Application submitted and approved. As part of the process, I must certify that I have viewed the required half hour video outlining the basics of what’s required of a Balloon Handler and provide personal measurements for my costume fitting. Roles and responsibilities of Captains, Co-Captains and the all-important Pilots who walk the entire Parade route backwards while giving instructions regarding raising or lowering altitude based on wind condition reports are explained. Hand and whistle signals are demonstrated. The potential for wind bursts when crossing intersections, and protocols for deflation at conclusion of route are outlined.
August 8
Receive email from Macy’s Studios welcoming me to the Parade. The missive contains copious information including my confirmation number and an invitation to download the Parade Ready App providing important resources and information (costume tips, weather forecast, Parade route, merchandise, FAQs, NYC attractions, etc.), a chance to participate in an exclusive giveaway...and more. It concludes with: Get ready for confetti!
September 26
Upon learning I am an official Balloon Handler, a friend recalls the Seinfeld episode in which the Parade features prominently. Elaine had a dentist with an Upper West Side apartment where he hosted an annual party from his prime location overlooking Central Park. Jerry leaned his head out the window and inadvertently toppled a miniature Empire State Building statue from the sill resulting in the puncture and deflation of Woody Woodpecker.
Seinfeld s6 e8: ‘The Mom & Pop Store’ ‘The Mom & Pop Store’
September 28
Report for Balloon Handling Field Training in the vast parking lot outside CitiField Stadium while the New York Mets are out of town. Arrive to find the 50 foot tall Ada Twist [Kid Scientist] balloon enmeshed in a giant net anchored to the ground by dozens of sandbags. Parked alongside is Happy Hippo, as well as a green Macy’s logo Star. These three elements represent the range of Balloon sizes – large, medium, and small – that will be handled in the Parade and used for practice during today’s training exercises.
After checking in as a Trainee, I learn the color code of my senior volunteers. Those in red caps are Captains, green caps are Pilots. Huddled in the crowd awaiting the start of our drills, fellow Handlers share aspirations as to which Balloon they might hoist months from now. The woman to my left drove down from Massachusetts this morning and favors Barney. The man on my right prefers Kermit. I hope for Spiderman while my wife dreams of a Minion. All agree that a classic such as Snoopy would be acceptable as well.
Meanwhile, instructions can barely be heard above the screeching of elevated subway trains at the nearby Willets Point station and the roar of flights taking off from LaGuardia Airport. I make out something about letting go of the line attached to the Balloon but am not sure what conditions merit such action. I do manage to hear the footwear notes prohibiting sandals and stressing sneakers only on Parade Day. The crowd is subsequently led in some mild warm up stretches before being invited to approach Ada Twist and Happy Hippo in the restricted zone.
While marching through the cordoned off section of Parking Lot E, Captains urge us to keep in line as our Pilot blows occasional whistle blasts alerting us to raise or lower our inflated character. Turning a corner, we pass a woman with Macy’s credentials around her neck laying on the ground with one leg in the air and a half smile/half grimace on her face. “Injured handler! Injured handler!” cries one of the Captains into their headset. “Need assistance. Park side.” Nevermind that there is no park in sight. “Not to worry,” we are informed as Captains running alongside our procession urge us to maintain our pace. “It’s only a simulation.” The Macy’s team rehearses every scenario and the protocols for addressing. Field training, it turns out, is not just for us novice handlers.
Another simulation forces a pause of our procession as Captains report “Broken down vehicle. Needs replacement.” The Pilot signals halt. Captains reinforce the command up and down the line as a team rushes in to untether the Balloon from the car to which it’s anchored and swap in a loaner. We resume our march as our enthusiastic Captain shouts repeatedly into her megaphone, “When I say ‘Macy’s,’ you say ‘Parade.’ When I say ‘Macy’s,’ you say ‘Parade.’’’ “Macy’s...” “…Parade.” “Macy’s…” “…Parade.” A commercial call-and-response executed with military precision.
Anticipating the windfall of observations to be derived from this experience and the fodder it will provide for this article, I undertake some research into the history of this annual extravaganza and find a website documenting the myriad mishaps dating back to the year the stock market crashed.
First among the dozens of incidents chronicled: Gobble the Turkey hit a No Parking sign at 58th Street and 6th Avenue in 1929 whereupon the balloon deflated and was removed from the Parade. The following decade, Father Knickerbocker’s nose got stuck at the elevated train line. Fifteen days before Pearl Harbor was attacked, Santa Claus suffered damage and collapsed on route. Ten years later, a Rainbow Trout hit a lamppost and sprung a leak. In 1966, Superman's left arm was deflated by a tree. In 1976, Underdog's right hand was punctured by a streetlight. In 1985, Woody Woodpecker tore a hole in his coxcomb the night before the Parade, and his legs deflated during the march. The following year, Betty Boop collapsed onto the ground a few yards from the finish line due to high winds.
The most notorious character turns out to be a fun-loving and adventurous Dr. Seuss creation. In 1994, the Cat in the Hat’s right arm was shredded by a lamppost, a misfortune that paled in comparison to the calamity three years later. The same mischievous figure hit another lamppost causing a 100-pound light fixture to snap off and fall into the crowd. Four people were injured, including one who sustained a brain injury and was in a coma for 30 days. New safety guidelines were implemented the following year. The Cat in the Hat was permanently banned from the Parade after that incident.
https://macysthanksgiving.fandom.com/wiki/Accidents_and_Injuries
October 20
“What balloon will you be handling?” is the second most common question asked when one hears I am a Balloon Handler. I will not learn of my assignment until the beginning of November. The first Saturday of Thanksgiving month, Macy’s hosts Balloonfest, a media preview of the new Balloons and the first time for them to be flown in an outdoor environment. Live coverage of the event on a local news channel reveals Buzz Lightyear, Mario, Pac-Man, Shrek’s Onion Carriage and Derpy Tiger to be this year’s newcomers.
November 3
“I was hoping for Spiderman. Janine wanted a Minion. Our assignments now in: my wife and I will be walking the 2.5 mile route of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade as Balloon Handlers steering this Wimpy Kid. 39 feet tall — the height of a 3-story building — not so wimpy after all. Our hopes now turn to a forecast of low winds.”
Comments from far flung friends respond to my post announcing this assignment.
Gayle: My niece walked the route with the Pillsbury Dough Boy 3 years ago. Make sure you have someone taking pictures.
Tom: During the parade only let go if the inflatable takes you airborne three feet or higher. When it's over, conspire with the other handlers and set the Wimpy Kid free!
An abundance of 1- and 2-word remarks include: Neato, Very cool, So cool, sooooawesome!!!, so fun, what fun, have fun, FUN!!!, Sounds like fun!, can’t wait, Love it, & Wow!
One dissenting voice points out the danger balloons pose to birds and aquatic life, as well as the massive waste of helium. He calls for a ban of the non-renewable resource. I thank him for raising awareness.
November 13
“Let’s have a Parade!” declares a mobile notification informing that instructions are now available in the Parade Ready App. In addition to my Official Entry Pass containing call time (5:15am) and location of costume shop, five pages include infographics illustrating hand signals for winding up, winding down, moving forward and slowing down. Handler responsibilities are spelled out. Hold the bone at waist-level, retain tension on your line at all times, do not wrap handling lines around any part of your body. Costume guidelines advise against large coats or puffers. Hoodies, scarves, boots and fanny packs are prohibited. No eating, drinking or gum chewing when in costume.
November 16
An email from my Captain informs that Wimpy Kid will be the 4th large balloon in the lineup and will follow SpongeBob Squarepants. While it will be the 16th appearance of our character, it will be the 20th Parade for our Captain. She introduces our three Pilots, along with her fellow Captains, as well as the Vehicle Team that will accompany us along the 2.5 mile route from the Upper West Side to Herald Square.
November 26
On the eve of the big day, forecasts of gusty conditions prompt a windfall of last minute texts expressing concern and advice.
“Wear a weighted belt,” advises one friend.
“Hold on tight,” warns another.
“Have fun and don’t let go!”
Thanksgiving Day
Janine and I wake to dual alarms set for 4am to report at 5:15 to the midtown Manhattan ballroom for our costumes. Squeezing through the packed space, we pass racks labelled Mario, Dora and SpongeBob to reach the Wimpy Kid where we are outfitted with coveralls, gloves, tabard, spats, beanie and a giant bib proclaiming our Balloon character.
We board one of the buses in the fleet lined up outside for the ride to the Upper West Side along with fellow passengers identified in bright colors and stylized lettering as Mario, Dora and SpongeBob. Upon arrival uptown, we locate our respective Balloons inflated the previous night and anchored to the ground by netting and sandbags. We congregate in the pre-dawn hour while taking in the surreal surroundings along the perimeter of the American Museum of Natural History. Spiderman seems especially in his element within his weblike netting.
As the first glimmers of morning light appear and the sun rises over Central Park, Flight Management Captains circulate through the crowd with boxes of Dunkin Munchkins, Entenmann’s donuts, wintergreen Lifesavers and tissues while fellow Handlers wander through the spectacle to take pics.
In the mad scramble to secure one of the bones around which the Balloon’s lines are wrapped, Janine and I grab a pair attached to Wimpy Kid’s left butt. Our friends are tethered to his left sneaker. Meanwhile, costumed players — clowns, candy canes, holiday ornaments, gift wrapped boxes and little green sprouts — make their way along the sidewalk toward the Park. The countdown to start time approaches.
Floats lined up along Central Park West commence their march as the Balloons along West 77th fold in at designated intervals. The sight of Mario up ahead making the turn into the flow and prompting those of us in his wake to advance yields the first of many thrilling lump-in-throat moments. We fall into the Parade after the Moldy Cheese Balloonicle that The Wimpy Kid appears to be reaching out to touch. We are followed by Frieda the Farmer’s Dog and The Jolly Green Giant.
All along the way, capacity crowds line the streets on either side. Spectators watch from balconies and scaffolds, stoops and walls and rock outcrops in Central Park. Faces press against windows of apartment buildings and offices. Children wave and people of all ages and sizes and colors take it all in as those of us marching down the middle of the avenue take them all in as well. Occasional shouts of “Wim-pee, Wim-pee” signal recognition and affection for the 39 foot, 3-story helium-filled figure flying directly above.
Catching a draft as we navigate the arc around Columbus Circle, Wimpy veers to the west and scrapes the ground as the crowd gasps a collective “0ooh” at the unwieldy display. We later learn ours was not the only Balloon to sustain such aerodynamic challenge at this intersection.
Continuing down Sixth Ave, chants by fellow Handlers invite the crowd to engage in call-and-response reminiscent of field training months ago.
“When I say ‘turkey,’ you say ‘gravy.’”
“When I say ‘mashed,’ you say ‘potatoes.’”
Suddenly, we arrive at Herald Square. The confetti covered asphalt, the television production trucks, the live announcer on public address, the broadcast booth, the backs of NBC hosts Samantha Guthrie and Hoda Kotb, the LED screens showing the telecast, the grandstands in front of Macy’s jammed with corporate sponsors and ticketed guests.
Just as suddenly, we cross the finish line at Seventh Avenue where Parade Ambassadors with megaphones congratulate us for a job well done. We proceed down the block to reel in our lines, bring down the Balloon, unzip the compartments to release the helium and deflate Wimpy Kid while the team behind us does the same to the web-slinging superhero that followed us through the urban canyons of Gotham. We then return to the ballroom to return our costumes and receive our commemorative pin.
Home by noon, just as the live broadcast concludes, we commence preparation of sidedishes for the feast ahead where we will be besieged with questions from family and friends interested in every detail of the foregoing experience. First among them is “How did you get to do that?” I tell them I’m writing an article that will spell it all out in the form of a Diary of a Wimpy Kid Balloon Handler as I pass the gravy.