WHEN YOU DON'T THINK THINGS THROUGH

Got nothing so this is a rerun from June 2009. 


I started my last year and a half of high school in Sarasota Florida which was the winter home for the Ringling Brother's Circus though by the time I got there, they had mostly moved to Venice Florida just south of us. It was cool to sit in class with a kid whose Dad was shot out of a cannon for a living.

The school took advantage of the fact that we had many kids from second and third generation circus families. Each year, the school put on a big top show known as the Sailor Circus. It was billed as The Greatest "Little" Show on Earth. It is still put on each year and you can learn about it here .

What an exciting thing to have at your school.  We had no animals which was a plus but it featured all the events from trapeze, high wire, Spanish web, tumbling, juggling and of course the clowns. Not only the sons and daughters in the business performed but anyone who wanted to learn was given an opportunity. Many were novices like me.

Few kids have not been taken in by the glamour of the circus. There is just a certain romance about performing amazing feats to thrill the crowds and traveling around the country. Well this circus didn't travel but it was as big here as any of the sports programs. 

Besides the glamour, scholarships were available to  Florida State University which also has a circus program. I was the new girl once again and was totally captivated by a possible circus career at least as a means for a scholarship.

I thought about it a lot and decided high wire was my niche. Wearing a dainty tutu as I bravely crossed the wire seemed very appealing. So I signed up and started rigorous training.

The wire is not really a wire but a hefty cable. The training wire was only three feet off the ground. We wore ballet like slippers, kept our bodies straight, looked at the end of the rope and let our arms seek balance. Coach said that balance would come, that our bodies would learn and he was right. Every day after school I practiced till supper time. At home, I had a tape on my floor that I walked heel to toe back and forth. I definitely wasn't scholarship worthy but I was learning.

Eventually, I could drop to the wire on my butt and bounce back up to my feet. That was my only "trick." Then the "you know what" hit the fan. Coach said,"Well I guess it is time for you to move to the high wire."

Duh, what had I been thinking. I could not do it. I couldn't even climb the ladder. I was land locked with unshakable fear.   Somehow couldn't convince Coach that a performance on a wire three feet off the ground would impress anyone.

My dreams of the pink tutu and my daintily prancing across the wire with a pretty umbrella died. The only saving grace out of the whole thing is that I had told no one, not even my family what I was doing for it was to be a big surprise. My little speech was all planned. "Oh by the way--if you aren't doing anything Saturday night--I will be walking the high wire at the Sailor Circus." Never got to say that. For a while, I was pretty crushed.

Coach was almost as sorry as I was for he had put a lot of time in on me. He was kicking himself for not asking if I had any serious phobias or at least seeing if I could climb a ladder. To save something from the situation, he asked if I wanted to be a clown. Hum, wonder if he was trying to tell me something? By now I had the sawdust in my veins so I agreed. Anything to be part of the circus.

My clown character was a crowd roamer and teaser. I was to throw buckets of confetti on people and pull coins out of kids ears. I learned the painless pratfall and fake trip in my big feet. Truthfully, I felt a little silly practicing these feats on imaginary people or fellow clown want to be's. However when the big night came and I got in full costume with face paint, fake nose and hair, baggy clothes and big shoes, I discovered I was a born clown.

I loved it. My outrageous side sprang loose and I was a new person. There is something about being in disguise that lets the inner child out. No one really knows who you are so you can be totally ridiculous. I had found my niche.

Tightrope walker has a romantic image but clowns have more fun. A walker's thrill lasts minutes where a clown entertains all night. Much better choice.

If you ever get a chance to slap on the grease paint, go for it. There might be another you, in you, begging to come out.

Did you ever overreach?