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I nearly hit a clown.
Jan. 17th, 2007 07:24 pmNo, this isn’t the set-up for a joke a la “How many clowns does it take to…” or “There I was minding my own business when this clown…” Oddly enough, I’m serious.
Picture it…
…there I was driving back to work. Stopped at a red light, ready to make my turn back to the agency, I poised, waiting for my turn. When the light changed, I eased off the brake and turned to my right, only to see a clown in the crosswalk – literally. There he stood, in his six foot tall, canary yellow glory. Red nose, white face, big shoes, yellow suit from bottom to his top hat. I didn’t gun the gas or anything. In fact, I didn’t hit the gas at all. Jeep-Jeep moved forward only a couple of inches – just enough for him to notice me, and for me to gasp at the sign of Tweetie-saurus. When I saw him, there was little I could do but to laugh, and laugh hard. He stopped in place, smiled, picked up his hat in a gesture of I don’t know what (probably Clowneze for, “Hey you stupid jerk! Watch what the f#*$% you are doing!), and then strode across the crosswalk in full clown stride.
I just don’t know what to say. Part of me says, “Poor guy. That must be an odd profession in and of itself, much less to have to walk through the streets of downtown Santa Ana.” But then again, who am I to judge? I wear a suit and tie to work every day. Is that any more natural? Is it any less of a clown suit? It isn’t “me” per se. It is a work-uniform. How many of us have some sort of clown suit that we have to don on a daily basis to please some unknown who made the decision of what is expected? Hmmmm…
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll wear yellow.
Picture it…
…there I was driving back to work. Stopped at a red light, ready to make my turn back to the agency, I poised, waiting for my turn. When the light changed, I eased off the brake and turned to my right, only to see a clown in the crosswalk – literally. There he stood, in his six foot tall, canary yellow glory. Red nose, white face, big shoes, yellow suit from bottom to his top hat. I didn’t gun the gas or anything. In fact, I didn’t hit the gas at all. Jeep-Jeep moved forward only a couple of inches – just enough for him to notice me, and for me to gasp at the sign of Tweetie-saurus. When I saw him, there was little I could do but to laugh, and laugh hard. He stopped in place, smiled, picked up his hat in a gesture of I don’t know what (probably Clowneze for, “Hey you stupid jerk! Watch what the f#*$% you are doing!), and then strode across the crosswalk in full clown stride.
I just don’t know what to say. Part of me says, “Poor guy. That must be an odd profession in and of itself, much less to have to walk through the streets of downtown Santa Ana.” But then again, who am I to judge? I wear a suit and tie to work every day. Is that any more natural? Is it any less of a clown suit? It isn’t “me” per se. It is a work-uniform. How many of us have some sort of clown suit that we have to don on a daily basis to please some unknown who made the decision of what is expected? Hmmmm…
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll wear yellow.
