On my eighth birthday, in 1932, my grandparents bought me a ride in the Goodyear Blimp, Volunteer. It was one of four in those days. It had a landing field at LaCieniga and Wilshire in Los Angeles. I have no idea what it cost. We lifted off and flew west to Beverly Hills. By craning and straining we could see on west and could even make out our house in Westwood.
At age forty I learned to fly a plane, and was reminded of my first adventure in the air, in the Blimp.