Michu's Wedding!!!

So- my memory has been refreshed!  The Spec the year my classmates joined the Blue Show was the second year of the Michu's Wedding tour.  According to Bill Ballantine in Clown Alley, 16 class of 1976 graduates joined the Blue Show.  And only 6 clowns from the Class of 75 were rehired for a second year . . . In all, 28 of my class mates went to work for RBB&B (6 to the Red Unit and 6 to Circus World).  And to this day, I'm disappointed that I wasn't one of them . . .

But thanks to Harvey and Bill, I was back!  I remember buying a lot of stuff at the hardware store, almost daily trips, and many nights hanging out at the motel, where an amazing number of clowns sought refuge from the train . . . but all too soon, it was over again.  The show opened in Venice, and I was about useless to Harvey and Bill, forever sneaking off to watch from wings, covered in sawdust and paint, but no spangles.

I remember watching Ned Way (how much does a ned weigh?) borrow handcuffs from an off duty cop doing security and cuff himself to a railing at the end of the seats, just as the spec began.  Then just as his place in the grand parade was marching by empty, he freed himself, left the cuffs dangling and jumped into place.  Years later, when I moved to Deltona, I found out that Ned lived here, but he was involved in some sort of Christian ministry, and I neglected to seek him out because I didn't want to be involved in anything Christian.  Go figure.  By the time I'd been born again, Ned had left the area, so that night in Venice, handcuffed to the railing, was probably the last time I ever saw him . . .

The show left Venice, but I stayed.  Harvey and I went back one more day to clean up.  And truthfully, I don't think I've ever seen a space emptier than the circus arena was when we arrived the next day.  Looked something like this . . .

Greg DeSanto, Director of the Clown Hall of Fame, Baraboo, WI (his photo, shamelessly lifted form Clown College Facebook page)

Except there was no clown.  There was nothing.  It was empty and forlorn, with nothing but the quickly fading ghosts of glitz and glamor, of sawdust and spangles, to remind a person of the spectacle that had so recently swelled the rafters with music and applause. 

Once again, the Circus shut off, like a tightly twisted tap, without even a drip to remind one of its former glory . . .