Friday, Aug. 15, 2003 - 12:02 pm
Um... I'm sorry.
This relationship just isn't working for me.
I'm at www.dailypreciousness.org now. So change that bookmark.
Mark's radio showon the economy was a delight. (I volunteered to run the switchboard for him. Think Roz on TV's "Frasier." That's the closest I'll ever be to Must-See TV.)
He had really great energy throughout and he actually got some interesting callers. One guy from Coon Rapids, Minnesota vehemently disagreed with him. [Insert Coon Rapids joke here.]
They were quoting numbers back and forth until I was totally confused. (Granted, my confusion started after the third figure Mark threw out. I've just got no head for sums.)
Mark and I play charades, sometimes. We're good. We're like mind-reading clowns. No. Mind-reading super killer clowns. We could kick-box our way out of any situation and never smear or smudge our teriffic clown makeup. Speaking of clowns... Here's your word for the day.
"COULROPHOBIA
An irrational fear of clowns.
What, fear those delightful purveyors of slapstick comedy? One may as well go in terror of Santa Claus (but then a few people do that too, sad cases of Santa Claustrophobia). But clown humour has always embraced cruelty in its teasing and insulting of other clowns and members of the audience. Clowns represent anarchy, the personifications of unreason, and a force of nature out of control. Who knows what really lies behind their unchanging painted faces and outlandish costumes? These are all good enough reasons for even the strongest and most adult of us to feel unease in the presence of a clown. Some children are terrified by them and a surprisingly large proportion of adults confess to finding them creepy and disturbing, so much so that this word for their condition has had to be invented. It’s not old—perhaps from the 1980s—and has been taken from Greek kolon, a limb, which seems strange until you find the related kolobathristes was a stilt-walker. This seems to have been the nearest its coiner could get to a suitable classical allusion, since ancient Greek didn’t have a word for a clown in our modern sense."
Was I coulrophobic when I was filling out a performance evaluation for Ronald McDonald Tuesday? Maybe just a little bit. The performer came in more than an hour ahead of time and was completely ingraciating and warm. He was a broad-faced black man with a rich James Earl Jonesian voice and a quick smile. I had no idea how great he'd look in full makeup and costume. He was an amazing Ronald. He had great rapport with the kids. And his magic tricks were really entertaining, even though they were very simple. He focused on literacy and books throughout the show. All in all, a great show. But I was a little scared of the clown. I think it's the whole question of "what is he really thinking and feeling?". You really can't tell under all of that makeup. I mean, we all wear masks, certainly. But a clown's mask is part of the way he presents himself. His character takes over and the real person underneath is shrouded in mystery. Who knows what he's thinking?
I didn't wake up Thursday morning thinking that I would have a police record by the end of the day. But I did. And it wasn't for a minor infraction or a traffic violation, either. No. This was something far more serious. It's a growing threat that must be stopped. Yep, you guessed it... I was a WANTED MALE LIBRARIAN. [Cue dramatic music.]
Officer Beauchet of the local county police youth liaison unit told me, with a big grin on his face, that he'd "started a file" on me. He did it so that he could contact me to partner on children's literacy issues with his liaison unit. That's gratifying. Any other sort of police record would have had me worried.
Not as worried as I was Wednesday morning, though.
