When the Circus Comes to Town...

 

It's been awhile since I have been to the circus. The last time I have ever been to a circus was when I was a small child in grade school.

I remember standing in line with hordes of other school children from other schools who migrated to Lincoln for their own personal field trip. As we waited in the long lines, a clown worked his way thru the crowds trying to entertain and keep our minds off of our long wait.

I hadn't even seen a clown so close up before. The only clowns I had ever seen were in parades driving little cars. They were off in the distance not so up close and personal. I think that is when it struck me that clowns aren't so funny looking up close. They look like grown men in my mom's lipstick, they were guys with make-up, they were creepy and not so comical all close up like that.

The day at the circus didn't fail to entertain, with all of the animals, acrobats, marveling feats that were preformed. Ladies standing up on horseback, a guy with little dogs in outfits that walked on their hind legs, elephants that made circles and sat on little drums and put the front legs on the hindquarters of the elephant in front of them. There were motorcycles that were in big circles that seemed to defy gravity as they drove them like little roller coasters up and around and upside down in those big caged circles. There were acrobats on the high wire, a lady that seemed to hang and spin by just her teeth when suspended in the air, as she twirled in the spotlight. There was a seal that played a horn, big striped tigers that growled and did their tricks with just the crack of the trainer's whip in the air. There was a big gorilla brought out by a clown, that I knew, I just knew, wasn't real but a guy in a costume. I couldn't help it though when the gorilla ran into the stands and the ring man cautioned us all to stay perfectly still so not to spook the gorilla, that I slid a little lower in my seat telling myself it was all a trick, yet hoping that the gorilla man would not come my way. As the gorilla tore off the hood of his costume and all the kids laughed, I could only sit back a little straighter in my seat and silently scoff, I knew it was a guy in costume, I just knew it, while I looked cautiously around to see if anyone had seen my little bit of momentary doubt.

It was a big day for this hick from the sticks. Something new and exciting and so different from the ordinary. It was loud and colorful, with moments of the unknown, unseen, and unexpected. It was the first time I had cotton candy. That sticky substance that melted the moment it touched my tongue. Of course one had to quench one's thirst with an equally sweet and sticky snow cone after eating the cotton candy. It was a day of indulgence and everything one can hope for experiencing as a child. It made me start to wonder if there was still a circus that traveled the country anywhere. Or had it become like so many things, a victim of time and expense, and from a lack of innocence from today's children. It's hard to be wowed by much any more.

The circus never came to town this summer but my twin brother did. He pulled up with his huge moving truck pulling a trailer with his smaller pick up truck, followed by my sister-in-law in her small car with three dogs and a cat in their small menagerie.

It was hectic, and exciting, and full of many moments of anxiousness. A time of wonder, disbelief, doubt, speculation, and joy. It was a rare time, a time where the prodigal son seemed to come home, but I knew, I knew like I knew about that man in the gorilla suit it wasn't real, it wasn't going to last. So I am not quite sure why it took me by surprise when the day before Christmas he quietly told us he was moving back East.

It was expected, I knew the day would be coming. Part of me was surprised he lasted as long as he did back home. A bigger part of me was surprised when he seemed to finally be settling down that he would abruptly pull up stakes and move again. In just a few days he was packed up, in another big truck, pulling another trailer with his wife following behind with their animals on the seat beside them.

It seems like the sawdust is just now finally settling, that things are starting to get back to normal around here. There are some projects to re-do from projects my brother started, never finished, or done that seemed to work for him but wouldn't for the rest of us.

I think of my brother and his big dreams, big plans, and constant changing ideas. He has always been carefree and living for the moment and despite any falls or minor spills he still seems to fall on his feet. He is charming and charismatic and can sell himself well. I know him better than himself. I don't know if that is from being his twin or just knowing him for a lifetime.

I can only shake my head sometimes as his foolishness, his not thinking thru on situations and his failing to realize that everything has an impact that reaches past each of us. We each have to live our own life and what works for one person won't work for another. Perhaps it is my practicality that can't fathom where his ideas come from. That I am too worried thinking of what lies down the road ahead that I can't see what is before me now. We are as different as two peas in a pod, and I worry that he needs to think more, and that maybe I need to think less.

I know with a certainty that he won't be back, not to stay anyways, but just for the briefest of visits... like the circus.