It’s a Real Circus Around Here

I met a member of the Wallenda family at the barber shop this week. For those who didn’t watch the 1978 made-for-TV movie The Great Wallendas, The Flying Wallendas  are the famous trapeze artists from the Ringling Brothers circus. He was a music lover but said he hated Jay-Z and was “meh” about Beyonce. For whatever that’s worth. He got his haircut at the barber shop just like the rest of us normal folks. My haircut was probably weirder than his. He seemed pretty boring as circus folk go. I guess I expected green hair or eyeball piercings or something.

For your information, dear readers, I now live in a circus town. There are weird little circus tents and brightly painted circus buildings scattered around the city. There’s also an art and design college named for the Ringling Brothers. That’s where all the weirdos hang out. I wish I could get a job there. I'd fit right in.

I haven’t been to a circus yet. I’m sort of against the animal exploitation. In fairness, I haven’t seen any elephants or lions here. Just a lot of lizards and utility service workers. The lizards are more colorful. I also haven’t been to the Ringling Museum but everyone keeps telling me how great it is. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s an actual art gallery with paintings and sculptures rather than a circus museum with antique circus contraptions and paraphernalia. Not that there’s anything wrong with art; it would just be epic to go see old weird circus artifacts. Fortunately, there are places like that here too. Art-shmart, show me the magician’s bloody saw.

I live in a circus town now. I guess that's appropriate given how three-ring my life is. I do have separate circles in my life that, while chaos reigns in each circle, the insanity of one ring seems not to touch the others. I guess it's probably more desireable to have only one calamity happening at a time, but whatever. I like the crazy. Also, I fancy myself an amateur lion tamer . . . of very small, domesticated lions. Who sleep a lot and enjoy Fancy Feast. That's the key to lion taming: gushy canned food.

In summation, trapeze arts are fine, but honestly, those folks are kind of dull—if they’re not in their spandex, you can’t even tell them apart from the average grocery store clerk. I’ll let you know if I see any real freaks.