Disney-Pixar was in town Monday to promote the coming release of its latest animated film and to kill me in the bargain.

"Up" is the story of a 78-year-old man who travels the world in a house attached to a million balloons. As part of the promotional tour, Disney-Pixar offered free rides on an easy chair hooked to a collection of large helium balloons.

My editor, who apparently has never liked me, called and told me that it would make a great subject for a column. I wasn't so sure. Other newspapers just lay off their unwanted writers.

I'm not afraid of heights. Cliffs, tall buildings, mine shafts, fire escapes, not even the national debt bothers me. But I am a little uneasy about hitting the ground going 200 mph. I'd rather not do that again.

It happened to me in the Army, when a parachute jump went wrong and I was struck by a large piece of Fort Benning. Fortunately, my heart -- and butt -- were lighter then and it only took surgery and a couple of years to get over it.

Monday morning, I met Trib photographer Francisco Kjolseth in the parking lot north of Franklin Covey Field. Fran was there to document my demise and go for a ride himself.

It was early but our ride already towered 50 feet over the parking lot and caused a traffic accident cops were still cleaning up on South Temple.

"Up" associate producer Tyler Thornberg shook my hand and explained what was about to happen. To quote him directly: "probably nothing."

It was a polite way of saying that I was overweight. Although 65 helium-filled balloons measuring up to 10 feet across strained at their leashes, the balloon chair contraption was actually lift rated for the denser sea-level air of Hollywood.

In the thinner air of Salt Lake City, the balloons managed to yank small and medium-size people off the ground just fine, but had trouble lifting plus-size journalists. A couple of television guys before me hadn't gone anywhere.

We gave it a shot anyway. The mere possibility of following in the footsteps of Larry the Lawn Chair Guy was incentive enough.

In 1982, Larry Walters, of North Hollywood, pioneered armchair balloon travel when he rode a cluster of weather balloons and a Sears aluminum lawn chair three miles into the Southern California sky. Passing airliners reported him to air traffic controllers.

Loopy from oxygen deprivation, Walters finally used a pellet gun to pop several of his balloons. He descended to earth and into the clutches of the FAA.

On Monday, I strapped in and waited to go aloft. If things went according to plans made on the ground, I would ascend to about 40 feet -- whereupon the plan would change.

Because the prevailing wind Monday was a northerly one, I figured cutting the ground tethers would eventually carry me high above my editor's desk in the Tribune newsroom . That's when the bowling ball I had smuggled aboard would make this an even better read.

As it was, I had to be thrown aloft several times by the ground crew. Each time, I flounced in the air before settling heavily back to Earth.

I take comfort in the fact that Fran didn't get much farther off the ground when it was his turn. Considerably lighter, he managed to hover a bit before coming back down.

I haven't seen a bad Disney-Pixar film, so "Up" will probably be great. However, they need to stick to animation and leave armchair balloon travel to the experts. Monday's experience was considerably less than anyone had expected. In fact, my editor has no idea.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com.