Circus Clowns are Evil

I am terrified of clowns. I will admit it. Clowns are the epitome of evil. It all started when I was 4 years old and my big sister's friend asked her if she could go to the circus with her and to be nice they even offered to take me. I was psyched! I had never been to a circus before and I was excited to see the elephants and the tigers and the tightrope walkers and whatever else a circus had. It was going to be exactly like what was in my Richard Scary books that I liked to read. All week I kept asking my mom what I was going to see and she would say "A whole bunch of fun things!" Well...that was non-specific. Finally the day came when we could go to the circus. I was excited more than Big Sister and when her friend and her parents came to pick us up it was everything I could do to not ask umpteen thousand questions about the circus. It was a short ride into town and it seemed to take an hour to get there we were so excited. Finally, we pulled into the fairgrounds and saw the red and white striped Big Top tent and the multicoloured flags flapping in the breeze. The big "Barnum & Bailey Circus- The Greatest Show On Earth" banner boasted a white-faced, red smiling, pom-pom hat wearing clown making the circus seem like the greatest thing in the world. As we made our way into the circus tent the smells of popcorn, roasting peanuts and sawdust filled my nostrils. Everything was so BIG! The ceiling of the big top seemed to be 100 feet tall and the tightrope stretched between the giant posts looked like a thread between needles. We found our seats on the bleachers, right down in the front where we could see the action up close and be able to get to the bathroom quickly with less hassle if needs be. Friend's parents bought us some cotton candy and popcorn from the vendors weaving thru the crowds yelling "POPCORN! HOT BUTTERY FRESH!" and "SWEET FLUFFY COTTON CANDY!" The noises all blended into each other making a lovely cacophony of sounds to my 4-year-old ears. It was wonderful. With a blare and a crash, the brass band started playing a circus tune and the lights dimmed. A spotlight glared into the center of the ring on the red jacketed, black pant wearing Ringmaster and he spoke in a loud booming voice into the microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Children of AAAAAALLLLLL ages! Welcome to the Barnum and Bailey Circus!!" The crowd cheered and everyone clapped, my eyes were riveted on the Ringmaster as he announced the different acts that we would be seeing. Then with another blare and crash he shouted "Let the FUN begin!!" The spotlight went out and the tent went dark. Suddenly, bright multi-coloured spotlights started circling around the center ring and out came the clowns! They were all dressed in such bright and colourful costumes and honking horns and laughing raucously, tumbling and jumping over each other that it was difficult to watch them all at once. Their crazy actions and bursts of laughter scared me a little and I crawled up into Friends daddy's lap. He looked down at me and said, "Are they scaring you, Jenny?" I nodded in the affirmative as fear had closed my throat and my eyes were as wide as saucers. Suddenly, one of them catapulted over the ring barrier and headed right in our direction. His wide red grin, huge eyes painted with bright blue eyeshadow and dark eyebrows were staring at me like he was going to do serious harm to my 4-year-old self. He no longer appeared funny, he was now the devil in disguise and hell-bent on taking me away with him. Scared out of my mind, I leaned further into Friends daddy hid my face in his coat and held on to him for dear life. Evil clown was not taking me without a fight. The closer he got the more I shook, I would peek at him quickly and see him still advancing on me and turn my head back into Friends Daddy's chest,eventually pulling his coat over my face and body. Finally, Friends Daddy had enough, in a firm but nice voice, he looked Evil Clown straight in the eye and said, "You are scaring her." I dared a quick look from behind his coat and Evil Clown tried to make me smile, shaking uncontrollably, I once again hid inside the coat praying that he would just go away. Finally, Friends Daddy became a little angry with the Evil Clown, "Please," he said in an angry tone, "that is enough. She is very scared. Go. Away." Evil Clown looked at him, shrugged and moved off to terrorize another small child. The rest of the circus was anti-climactic for me. The elephants came and went, the lady hung by her hair from a rope and did all sorts of amazing stunts, the tightrope walkers balanced precariously from their thin wire above our heads, the beautiful white horses pranced and danced through the ring with lovely riders and daredevils on their backs, and the trapeze artists were breathtaking and heartstopping in their performances. Yet, everywhere you turned, their were clowns. Red smiling clowns, sad faced clowns, sleepy clowns, evil clowns with seltzer bottles lurking in the shadows waiting to grab you and run. And then, years later, Stephen King introduced us to "It" and Pennywise the Dancing Clown. The most evil clown in all history who haunted your nightmares. Yeah, Mr. King....thanks for that...

BUSTED!

Just for the record, never try to a pull a fast one on your mother because she will ALWAYS find out! Once upon a time, I tried to get away with something that was completely harmless and relatively normal by most high school age standards. I tried to cut school. Yes, it's true. This girl could show a little rebellious streak upon occasion. Unfortunately, my rebellions always ended up an epic fail. I really should have learned from those... On this particularly warm spring day, a couple of girlfriends (who shall remain nameless)and myself decided to ditch out of study hall. At the time, we had two study halls- back to back- and had permanent passes to the band room. So, no one would miss us, right? I said Right?!? Wrong. Going out the back door of the band room, up the block, over a block and then down the block to head toward downtown, trying to avoid being seen from the high school windows and the students trapped therein. We were clipping along at a pretty good pace and chatting as we were walking along not paying attention to much of anything until we hit the Dime store (Schultz Bros.) downtown. We were checking out the albums and cassette tapes among other things when all of a sudden I hear "Ahem!" I looked up and felt myself turn pale as a ghost. There stood my mother with a look that would have frozen water. If looks could kill, I would have been lying on the floor. I swear to God she nailed us to the floor with that look. We stared at her in absolute horror- good feelings gone. Oh great. That's it. I'm toast. I am going to get the electric chair for certain. thirty seconds may have only passed but it felt like forever. She pointed a finger at us and then to the car outside the store. With each of us hanging our heads, we all but ran to the car and scrambled in. Mom stomped out the store, climbed in, started the car and drove us back to school. That was the longest 3 minutes of my life. She never said a word the entire time but, Boy Howdy! Did her silence speak volumes! You could feel the anger wash over you in waves and the tension was so think you could have cut it with a chainsaw. No knife could cut thru that type of tension, baby! When we got to school she drove around and dropped us off at the band room back door (which surprised us and made us very relieved to not be marched into the front office to serve a detention for skipping class). I could barely look at her as I opened the car door. My friends mumbled "sorry and thank you" and jumped out of the car as quickly as they could. I put one foot out the door and she grabbed my left wrist- not in a tight grip, but enough to let me know that I was in some very deep doodoo. I turned to look at her and she gave me a radiant smile and said "Have a good afternoon!" Now, don't be fooled by that smile. It wasn't the "hey, nice try, that was funny that you failed!" it was the "you better enjoy your afternoon, because this may be your last one on earth!" How did she know we were there? Simple. People saw us walking past their houses, one just happened to be my aunt's house, she called my mother at work and asked if we "didn't have school today because Jenny just walked past my house with a couple of other girls." It was 115 in the afternoon. Note to self...next time you decide to do something stupid like skip school, make sure you don't walk past a relative's house.

Heirloom

The greatest gift I could have ever received from my parents is my sense of humor. It has gotten me thru bad times and good times. It has gotten me thru difficult situations that had no possible pleasant outcome, it has gotten me thru arguments with family and friends, it has gotten me thru sad times, thru church services, thru graduations, thru weddings and funerals (some could argue that this is the same thing) and it has gotten me thru long and tedious car rides (so did sleeping). REcently I paused to reflect on my- some would say bizarre and twisted- sense of humor and realized that because of my parents, as well as my grandparents, I have learned to deal with a lot of day to day occurences with my wit. For example, when that guy flies by you on the interstate just to pull in front of you because he needed to be first off the off ramp, I generally quip "Well, that was productive. I was worried I wouldn't have some jackass to follow to work." Or, if they go flying by you at Mach 12, I say "What's the matter, cowboy? Are you late for your accident?" Now, some may call this sarcasm, and they would be correct. I am fluent in sarcasm. I practice it every day so I don't appear rusty when the proper situation calls for it. Which, is pretty much every waking hour of my life. Although, I have been known to be rather sarcastic in my dreams as well. Some people understand sarcasm, some do not. It is the ones that do not understand sarcasm that I have the most fun with. But then, I am a bit sadistic in that aspect. I have learned thru careful teaching and example that life is too short to be so serious all the time. Oh, don't worry, I know when it is time to be an adult and address certain situations in a serious manner. That I have learned as well. But it is when the situation that has been blown completely apart or you are dealing with a particularly difficult co-worker or telemarketer that the best sense of humor comes out. Me: Hello? Telemarketer: Yes is Mrs. Jan-dit there? Me: No, Mrs Jan-dit is my mother-in-law, you can call her at (555) 555-5555...click. If you cannot pronounce my name then obviously, you are not looking for me. Or when dealing with those annoying political phone calls...Me; Hello? TM: Who are you voting for in this year's election? Me: (in my best British accent) Oh, I'm sorry, dear, I'm not from your country so I am not allowed to vote. Cheerio!...click. I have a tendency to look at the humor in nearly almost every situation. To go around being serious all the time has got to be such a chore! I wake my children up each morning with a song. Generally a song I have made up and is particularly annoying to my school age children who find that 630 am is far too early to wake up on weekdays (but totally acceptable on weekends). I make up words on the spot and frankly, I think they are pretty brilliant. Even more-so when I get stuck on a word and one of my children sings a rhyming word that fits perfectly. Humor is hereditary. It is something you think of every day, goofy songs or jokes you remember doing as a kid and running gags within a family unit. So, I would like to say a great big THANK YOU to my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles and cousins and my sisters and my dear friends for enriching me with their sense of humor every day of my life and for listening to my stupid jokes, silly songs and witty comments. It is the best heirloom there is.