Pop Culture

"I made a butterfly where I took Don Caldwell's basic design, and Jeanine [Von Essen]'s way that she makes her weave on the wings, and Patricia Bunnell's way that she crimps the wings," she says, dropping some notable names. "And a friend of mine came over and said, 'Oh, you're doing Wally's butterfly!'"

Dadow admits she usually starts a creation by copying something she's seen before. "I try it one or two times, and then I add something to make it my own." And she acknowledges that some innovations -- like Californian Ken Stillman's bright idea of using an overinflated heart-shaped balloon to create the dimpled chin of a cartoon superhero -- clearly bear the indelible mark of their creator.

"There are some things where we all know where it comes from," Dadow says. "But how far back do you have to go? I mean, there's only so many ways you can make something with balloons. If you get people all around the world trying to make the latest kids' movie character, you're gonna have some similarities. Right?"

Dadow takes a deep breath, and apologizes for exposing the dark underbelly of the shiny, happy balloon crowd.

"Really, I love the balloons," she insists. "I just hate all the other stuff that goes on around them -- having to give credit to the right person, and all the squabbles that go on. Sometimes I feel, 'Oh, you guys are killing me! Can't we just get back to playing with balloons?'"

"You gotta meet J.P.," Marie Dadow says, flagging down an older fellow with a loud Hawaiian shirt and an even louder laugh that's been resonating throughout the IHOP all night. "J.P.'s a hoot and a half."

Dadow admits that when she first met J.P. Weigt, a retiree who got into twisting to be "the cool grandpa" and soon discovered he loved hanging out with the balloon crowd, she was a bit taken aback by his boisterous, over-the-top manner and his decidedly un-PC way with the ladies.

"We're glad to have Marie with us," Weigt says, picking up on her intro. "She's a hell of a twister -- and kinda easy on the eyes, what do you think? I mean, is she hot or what!"

"When you first meet him," Dadow warns beforehand, "you're like, 'Whoa, buddy! Calm down a bit!' But then after that, you just have to love him."

Among the Valley's twisters, Weigt is the guy with all the wildest stories -- although sometimes the others in the group can't resist retelling his greatest exploits themselves.

"The story I heard was he was out golfing," says Ric Fout, a fellow twister, "ran into these ladies, got to talking, and they found out J.P. did balloons."

"Lady golfers," Dadow interjects, with a knowing smirk.

"Well, they hire him for a party, he gets there, and it's a lesbian party," Fout continues. "At the end of three hours of creating the lewdest, crudest balloons you can imagine, they pass around a brandy snifter, containing mostly $50s and $100s, and I heard by the end of the night he walked away with a little over $1,100."

"I heard $1,500," Dadow adds.

Weigt himself is a bit foggy on the amount, but vividly recalls the balloons he made and the wild time the ladies had with them.

"Let's just say it was a great day, dude! So much fuuuun!" he says, with a wicked laugh. "Believe me, balloons aren't just for kids!"

Clearly, Weigt is the life of the party at the jams, and a big part of why they're still going. Dadow says he's the guy responsible for e-mailing the monthly invites and a major reason people keep returning for the fun.

"No matter what kind of mood you're in," Dadow says, "he just lifts your spirits so much."

Everyone's spirits were dealt a crushing blow just six days before Christmas, when the news broke of a Peoria police officer who'd been shot, just above his bulletproof vest, during a drug raid. Twisters recognized Bill Weigt as J.P.'s son, a father of four who had joined the Peoria force just 18 months ago and was now, reports said, left paralyzed from the arms down.

The imagery of the sad clown lurks beneath the surface of the balloon twisters' happy-go-lucky world. But at no time does it come more to life than in listening to J.P.'s account of how he sat at his son's bedside the day after the shooting and twisted balloons for what marked Bill's 31st birthday.

"It was his birthday on the 20th," Weigt says two days later, speaking in a slightly shaky voice on a cell phone from the hospital. "So I made him up a big birthday cake out of balloons, and a big ol' Santa Claus and a bunch of crap that he likes. And it was kind of cool to watch him light up. It lights up everybody else who comes in the room, too, and kinda takes everybody's mind off the bad stuff, at least for a while."