The other day I stumbled upon this touching little event held at the edge of a rubble-strewn vacant lot downtown. The dedication, or something, of a huge, for Norfolk, new condo development that will one day, evidently, resemble a miniature Empire State Building. Wouldn't it be great if, on opening day, they had a crowd of Little People stream out the front doors? Don't hold your breath. Developers are a humorless bunch. I didn't see any dignitaries at this event, but they were bound to show up. There was a dais, aned daises draw dignitaries like flies. There were also a few balloons, drifting desultorily from tent poles. Nothing says "festivities" like a few lonely balloons. People cruising the area looking for festivities will spot them immediately. Someone in the back seat will lean forward. "Balloons at ten o'clock!" they'll announce, and slap the driver on the back of the head, much as a bazooka loader would. At least that's how it plays out in my mind's eye.