Wednesday, February 01, 2006
I'M NEVER RUNNING AWAY TO JOIN THE CIRCUS
Every January, they start showing commercials for the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey and Everybody Else and Their Brother Circus, which always shows up for a few dates in February. I HATE the circus. Why do I hate the circus? Let me count the ways:
1. The name. I'm never quite sure if I have it right. Who were the Ringling Brothers anyway? Ding Ringling and his brothers Sing and Dong? I know PT Barnum but who the hell was Bailey? Why do they ALL have to have their names as the official name. Couldn't someone modestly agree to drop their name in the interest of simplicity?
2. Expense. This is like one of the most expensive nights out you can have. On top of a hideously expensive ticket and higway-robbery parking fees, all the kids want the little glowy sticks and flashing thing-a-ma bobs and each one of them costs like $20.00 each. And popcorn and a coke are like another $20.00. Its an easy business to blow $150.00 at the circus and something about that just isn't right.
3. Three rings. I think this is just a personal problem. Around the house, when Sparkle is pouting, one of my favorite things to say to her is "Well honey, I'm sorry life isn't a three ring circus 24 hours a day!" When actually confronted with a three ring circus, I feel a lot of anxiety. I can't concentrate on the doggies in Victorian dresses because I'm too busy worrying about trapeze artists. I'm overwhelmed with worrying that the young lady spinning high above me by her ponytail is going to go prematurely bald in her old age. I can't watch the horses because I'm so busy concentrating on the poo-shoveler and wondering what kind of wage he makes....and how he's trained to handle an elephant-size disaster, which I've never seen happen.
4. Once, while there was a huge sensory-overload promenade round-the-ring thing going on, I found myself fascinated with what was going on behind the scenes in the dark. There was some guy with a bear on a chain. The bear was getting rowdy, big time, resisting and getting mean, so the guy slaps him many times around the face, hard. Now, I can understand the need to get a bear in line in an arena full of people, but I found it incredibly sad that a bear was even in an arena to begin with. I decided right then and there that trained wild animals do not amuse me and that I will never pay someone money to exploit them again.
5. One word - Clowns. I hate 'em, hate 'em, HATE 'EM! Not only that, but I'm scared of them! And you know you hate them too. They're ugly and they act fake. What kid wants to hang out with a MASKED creature? I am deathly afraid of someone who is hiding their true self from me because I rely very heavily on gauging someone's facial expressions when I am interacting with them. Final word, CLOWNS BLOW.
As if you needed proof.
Posted by email@example.com @ 8:19 AM