This weekend, we took the kids to the circus. They loved it. The elephants, the expert trapezers (if that's what they are called), the hype, the horses... not to mention the popcorn and other junk food. Bla, bla, bla....I know you didn't check the Faircloth Five blog during work hours just to hear about what Dad and Mom did with junior over the weekend. I didn't build up my readership by boring all 7 of you to death. You want the real story. And the observations are so copious, that I had to break this post up. I simply cannot have a post that is 50 pages long (well, I could, but Kelly would get upset with me).
Okay, first, the back story. The circus came rolling into our town this weekend (disclaimer: I'm not going to tell you the name of the circus because I don't want to get sued for libel. Everything I say is merely alleged and not proven). Of course, we decided to take our family. Oh, and we invited the grandparents to join in the fun...because, let's be honest... if the circus bores me... I always have fun analyzing them. I have so many things to talk about, I'm not sure where to start. So, let's just start with the beginning:
The Elephant ride: Upon arrival at the "big top", we are immediatly given all sorts of options of where we can blow our cash. The most compelling among them (not that the inflatable tweedie bird on a stick or the dollar store coloring books weren't tempting) was a ride on the elephant. At $8 a ride, I was game. I mean, how often do you get to sit on top of an elephant? I'll swing the $8 for that. So, I buy 2 tickets. One for Reagan and one for Luke. For some reason, apparently under the hypnotic powers of the "big top", I don't for once say to myself "umm...I'm entrusting the safety of my children to some dude from Omaha that gets his elephant to move by chucking marshmallows in its mouth."
Go figure. I'm usually overly cautious. And I'm still not troubled by this until my in-laws arrive and are worried that I've only gotten 2 tickets and don't plan to ride with them. Now, a word about the in-laws. They are great people. They are kind, generous and wonderful grandparents. However, Safety is definitely not one of their strong suits. They take all kinds of unnecessary risks. They've been skydiving for goodness sakes. I mean, they should be taking strolls along the pond feeding the frickin' ducks or playing shuffle board on the deck of a cruise ship... not jumping out of perfectly good airplanes. So, anyway, when they show concern that I'm entrusting the 2 most important things in my life to a marshmallow eating pachaderm led around by Bubba the circus clown... I get a little worried. Well, anyway, they go pay the extra $8 to ride with them and make sure they are safe. Probably a smart move. Gramps is clearly visible in the picture above. Safety First, my friends.
The Circus Workers: These guys fascinate me. I'm intrigued by them more than carnies who are a tough class to beat. I mean, at this circus, the workers were carnies with "talent." Because the guy that sold the tickets and the guy that showed me my seat and the guy that walked around with the elephant all appeared in the show. I'm not joking. The girl that sold me my tickets was later flying around on the trapeze. The guy that showed me my seats was later wearing a spandex tiger outfit. Or, on second thought, maybe he wasn't part of the show and just enjoyed animal print spandex? Who knows?(I've put in a call to Sen. Craig for clarification.)
Trapezers: Again, I'm not sure what you call multiple people performing a trapeze act. So, I've settled on "trapezers" -- you'll just have to bear with me for now. Most interesting thing about these guys was the dude that "catches" the flying female was overweight. I mean, we've all seen a trapeze act. But you simply haven't seen a trapeze act until you've seen a chunky bald man with his well-furred chest (painfully visible, by the way, via the U-shaped plunge of his "sweet" outfit) dangling upside down in spandex. Seriously. It simply cannot be beat.
The "Big Top" Beauty: This circus had a ringmaster. But, apparently, the ring master was not enough. They had the "Big Top" Beauty complete with evening gown, high heels and a feather boa. I was completely fascinated with her. She lip synced the national anthem and "Wind Beneath my Wings". Her evening gown collected pine shavings (certainly intended for containing the animal poop) as she sauntered around the ring. Yes, you read that right. There was a routine done to the "Wind Beneath my Wings"... and the best part of the lip syncing was that they didn't even try to get a cover version. It was definitely Bette Midler. Anyway, I suppose the routine was supposed to stir the emotions and empower me to do great things...like fly and stuff. But I couldn't stop watching her lip syncing to get inspired because it was really off... seriously...it was Britney Spears bad. Not that if she had lip synced it flawlessly I would have had any different reaction... but I do think it's noteable.
Anyway, at some point, I lean over to my father-in-law and say something like, "I'm sure she's riddled with STD's". Now, that was NOT a nice thing to say and I probably wouldn't admit that I said that, except I have to tell you I said that because of the response of my father-in-law. So, here's how that conversation went:
ME: "I'm sure she's riddled with STD's"
Father-in-Law: "Ya, it was probably the midgets."
Wait. Hold the phone. The midgets? Are midgets at circuses harbingers of syphilis and other undesireable conditions? If so, this was news to me... but he said it with such conviction that it must be true... right?
Ahh... anyway, I love the circus and could go on and on. But I'll stop there for now.
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