Have y’all been to the circus lately? I’m typically not a circus-type, but my girlfriend got tickets and invited our family to come with theirs on Saturday. It was a major topic of conversation around our house last week, as M initially put his foot down and refused to go (due to his fear hatred of clowns). Then after I dropped a few comments like, “I’m not telling you to go, I’m just saying I would like for you to” and added a few looks that more directly expressed, “I will kick your ass if you don’t go”, he decided he would love to accompany us.
The problem started when he came home from work Friday afternoon with a fever of 103. I began accusing him of licking every toilet seat in the city to contract an illness so severe that he could be excused from the circus, but he insisted it was his body’s natural defense against evil clowns. He was worse the next morning and had to go to urgent care. There was something about him not being able to swallow, but I wasn’t listening as I was too busy bitching about having to drive myself across town for the circus.
On the ride over, Little G was in one of her inquisitive moods, so I did the best I could to answer the “Why?”, “But why?”, “Why, Mama?”, Why?” questions for 45 minutes or so before screaming, “BECAUSE THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS!” and turning up the radio. Silently cursing myself for lack of patience, I took in the roadside scenery. (This is the kind of place that, although I don’t recall seeing one, I’d say you’d have a better than average chance of seeing a Confederate flag, and you’d just as soon see a refrigerator on a home’s front porch as not.) As we pulled into the fairgrounds parking lot, G was so excited she hardly knew what to do. We discovered there was a flea market and carnival in addition to the circus. (I feel certain if we’d looked around, we could have also found a gun and knife show.)
The circus began with tumblers and then trapeze artists. G was not impressed; she’d seen one of those jumpy houses outside and that’s all she could think about. On the other hand, I was fascinated by the “lovely assistants” who threw the tumblers a ring or something every now and again. Poor things were wearing suntan support hose and barely-there sequin outfits, despite being 40-something and having less than stellar bodies. They bounced to the blaring beat of the music, but in a very half-assed fashion, as if they were aching from their heavy hairpieces and a long night of partying. I wondered if the lovely assistants always looked like this (un-lovely), and I just never noticed as a kid. The animal acts saddened both G and me – her because the horses didn’t fly (despite having wings strapped to their backs), and me because they looked pitiful and I felt sorry for them living in a traveling show, so we left early to check out the carnival. G pleaded with me to pay $1 so she could see the “World’s Largest Rodent”, but I declined as I would rather pay $5 to not have to see it. The carnival workers were all very nice, calling our kids “lil bits” or “purdy girls.” One guy was even so kind as to waive the height requirement for his ride (“Safety, Schmafety” I always say). My favorite was the lady (?) who guided the kids in the gate with her cigarette. The people-watching was awesome – one kick-ass mullet cut after another, tattoos on children of all ages, and even the occasional peekaboo boob. Not what you see in everyday life (one hopes), but just perfect for the carnival. My girlfriend and I entertained ourselves by speculating which tent housed the meth lab, and if we’d see Dog the Bounty Hunter arrest anyone. Surprisingly, I saw nary a funnel cake nor beer, which I thought was the standard diet of carnival-goers. I am assuming the kids just strapped their flasks to their legs like we did back in college. Or maybe they weren’t drinkers. HA! Just kidding about that; never have I seen more future addicts/alcoholics/Dept of Family & Children Services cases in one place. (I tried to look down my nose at them but these were all giant kids, so they may not have realized I was judging them and instead thought I had a nose bleed or something – which is really too bad, as we all know that judging people is the best way to improve them.)
Overall, it was a great time had by all – except selfish M, of course. It turns out that he has strep throat. Not that I’m so uncaring as to require a doctor’s excuse or anything (usually). He’s got some meds and I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self soon, although he is currently vegging on the couch so it will be difficult to make the sick/well distinction.
