My kingdom for a HoverDesk

There are days when it's awfully hard to work inside.

Occasionally, one gets a glimpse of the goings-on outside and hears whispers that there actually is life outside those workplace walls. Such rumors are promptly dismissed as ridiculous notions created by some rival company or other in effort to decrease productivity.

My million dollar idea might change all that.

This isn't one of those silly million dollar ideas I always have, like a mood tongue ring or mood navel ring, or a huggable fish bowl.

This one might actually net a million dollars.

Every year when budget requests go around the newsroom, I always chime in amongst other, more responsible and thus, boring, suggestions by asking, "Can this be the year I finally get my HoverDesk?"

The answer, of course, is a resounding no. Not because they're trying to deny moi, but because it doesn't exist.

Yet.

The HoverDesk (law prevents me from stating patent pending, since there isn't actually a patent pending. But anybody who steals such an awesome idea would have a voodoo curse placed upon them, so tread carefully from this point) would be a thing of mechanical beauty, somehow equipped so that office workers, when they're working on a sunny day, or someone like me, who prefers clouds with a strong breeze and only a hint of impending rain but not rain itself, can simply power up their desk (perhaps fueled by corn dogs, as this is the only logical application for such an appalling food item) and take it out for a spin.

Ideally, the HoverDesk would be able to take its inhabitants upwards of about 20 to 40 feet in the air, the better to avoid further congesting traffic. Once a person has reached their ideal height, the desk would do what it was named for, and destined to do: It would hover.

How much workplace tension and stress would this alleviate? Accountants during tax season could go up in the air to look over documents. Lawyers could ease their strain during a trial by hovering over the lake.

And if someone happens to keep a fishing rod or a pair of binoculars in a desk drawer or the desk's counterpart, HoverFilingCabinet, who can really fault them for hooking a largemouth bass or spying a ruby-throated hummingbird?

Of course, there are still logistics to be worked out. The fact the HoverDesk name is already taken, for one, by a "complete and powerful desktop replacement" that "adds versatility to your existing Windows desktop and lets you customize your interface according to your needs and tastes," according to www.hoverdesk.net.

Would the rolling chair be attached or a separate entity? Would it have to be licensed as a vehicle or experimental aircraft? What about the breeze factor? What happens when you're walking along innocently and someone flying in the desk over your head accidentally drops a pencil?

But despite all the challenges the FlyingDesk (no) RocketDesk (no) meDesk (no) iDesk (no) youDesk (no) weDesk(no) TurboDesk (good lord, not even this!) WeaverDesk might bear, I think most will agree, it will be worth it the moment those golden rays of sunshine cross your desktop or the breeze tickles your skin for the first time.