What Was It About Flying a Kite? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Monday, June 06, 2022

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Contributor

When I was a kid, flying a kite was an exciting neighborhood experience. What joy to see that kite high above, and even more joy in knowing I had control of it. When we used the phrase, “Go fly a kite,” we meant to have people gather around, not chase them away.

It started when I went to Benny’s to buy the kite, take it home, and dutifully assemble it which I did on the kitchen floor. Reliable flyers, the diamond-shaped model (and oh yes, it had to be red) was the one for me. Box kites did not make it . . . clunky flyers that just did not fit the eye.

I became so good at putting the kite together that friends asked me to help with theirs. The toughest part was bending the crossbar and getting the string just taut enough, so the fragile redwood bent without snapping and the kite was wind-worthy. Having assembled enough kites that crashed, I learned quickly enough to become an expert in a creative process.

GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST

After the crossbar bowing, I attached the twine from the top to the bottom of the wind side and then tied the end of the spool of twine two-thirds the way up the vertical line. To the bottom, I affixed small pieces of worn, thin bedsheets knotted together. When I was done, I held up my work of art and stepped back to admire it. “This baby will fly.” To the vacant lot, I went.

One hand on the kite string, the other holding the spool of twine, I started my short run at top speed from the end of the sandbank overlooking the valley. Catching its wisp of wind, up that beauty flew, higher and higher. I steadily let out the string from that bulky roll so that it soared, eventually over the valley far below. What a happy feeling. It was like riding a bike without the training wheels.

It was a colorful, exhilarating experience to see my work of art soar in the clean fresh air. Sometimes it danced and coiled as if it had a mind of its own begging for higher, faster. Sighing in the wind, it spiraled like wispy smoke from a chimney.

In a rugged wind, the kite might lose a piece of its tail and twirl out of control. I had work to do in getting it back to its home.

When it was time to reel it back, I wound the string around the wood in a figure of eight pattern so that it would not tangle. A big spool fully let out meant lots of winding and a tired, painful wrist, but it was worth it.

And sure, sometimes I had to coax a wayward kite out of a tree; even climb that tree on occasion for the rescue, but it was worth it.

I was in the right place flying that kite.

When the day was done, I stored my kite in my bedroom.

Related Articles

• Have We Lost Our Happiness? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Get Up. Change the Channel. - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• The Castle Theater. A Neighborhood Destination, Now Gone - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Take Time to Read Classic Literature - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• A Frightening Walk Home - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• How Many Names Do You Have? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Yep, I Got COVID - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• The Wonderful Days of Sledding - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Thoughts for the New Year - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Ravioli on the Bed - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• I Wish I Knew Him Better - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• To Ben Franklin’s at Easter - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Whither the Psychopath? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• I Am Inducted - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Censorship. What Is Happening? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Who Remembers the WPA? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• My Memory of the Billy Club - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• What is a Humanitarian? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• A Day About Pencils - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• I Get Close to Muhammad Ali - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Uncle Carlo Comes to New York with Us - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• Spring is Here - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• I Start to Love Boxing - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• I Try Boxing. Uh, Oh. - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
• What Was It About Flying a Kite? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Enjoy this post? Share it with others.