Sac State's Annual Kool-Aid Acid Test

When Monday's Column Writing class turned out to be attending some unexplainable, seemingly outlandish event going on in the University Union, the balloons and confetti that I found littering the campus made more sense. The uncharacteristic amount of people flooding into and out of the Union made more sense as well.

There were students that were giggling, damn near frolicking coming out of the place. Students would enter in looking only to eat score some quick and greasy food, but come out of the other side looking like they just got back from the carnival. No one is ever this excited about the Union. I followed a trail of cheap jungle decorations and discarded balloons to investigate.

As I enter into the Union, I find myself beset by the over-saturation of bodies crowding and blocking the pathways of the first floor. This loud, unmovable mob had faces filled with expressions of child-like glee. Some of the heads jutting out of the crowd were adorned with extravagant balloon hats, which were being worn with a reasonable amount of pride. After squeezing through the crowd, I come face to face with a gentleman that appears to be sporting a lion's mane on his head. Its right about then that I think to myself, "Okay, this just got trippy."

Above me, little inflatable monkeys and artificial vines hung low enough to brush through my hair. Blown-up balloon flowers and balloons with animal prints were spread throughout the room. There were desks set up in awkward positions, nearly all of which had people clamoring around them. Students were rushing around, having their "game card" stamped at every notable location in the Union. Signs promised prizes for completing a game card, expensive items like video game consoles, iPods and mountain bikes.

All of the chaos was distracting me from the task at hand, I had to remain focused. I came to be a journalist, it was time to ask questions. My first thought is to find the culprit behind all of this sensory overload. Surely enough, in the middle of the room I find a man vigorously twisting and tugging at balloons, forming them into peculiar shapes. His placement in the room made him the center of attention, so it seemed only natural to get his story.

The problem was, the man had a line that stretched across the room. All students eager and willing to patiently wait for a chance at one of those extraordinary balloons. So I, not wanting to rudely interrupt the delicate art of ballooning, waited in line as well. It gave me the opportunity to observe his work, and realize just how incredible it really was.

Students were asking for their favorite characters and animals to be reinterpreted as balloons. I watched in awe as he created the most intricate balloon version of a Ninja Turtle you could ever imagine. Most the people in line were discussing how impressive his stuff was. However, some things requested by students didn't seem to translate well into balloon art. A textbook, for example, does not make for a good balloon.

I reached the front of the line after what felt like a lifetime of watching air being blown into rubber. The balloon artist was Richard Jimenez, who turned out to be an extremely friendly guy. The answers to my questions would come slowly, only between breaks he took from breathing into the balloon. Apparently he has been perfecting the craft of balloon art for a long time, over 15 years. Jimenez also entertains at parties as a disk jockey, and no, he doesn't do clown stuff.

What balloon did I ask for? Well, I figured to commemorate the occasion I would get the fishing pole that Phlagleblast's Sasquatch-like mascot was holding. It was only one of the estimated 3,000 balloons Jimenez made that day.

I entered into Phlagleblast with absolutely no expectations to speak of, which may account for why I left feeling so enlightened. More strange and random things need to be going on at the campus, I approve of this.