I am not afraid of clowns.
I’m not talking about the psychopathic, deranged serial-killing, bleeding from the face modern depiction of a clown. I’m talking about a cheerful goofball, wearing a bright and cartoony suit. His hair is orange. Shoes are big, red and floppy. He just waved his arms like great big windmills and said, “WELL HELLO THERE!” Can you see him now? He’s the guy walking obnoxiously like a duck. He looks like a complete idiot. But what’s not to enjoy? Now, he’s blowing up long colorful balloons and turning them into array of animals — a giraffe, monkey, perhaps a Daschund. I’m talking about the human being, the jolly good fellow with a painted face and a red nose who just brought happiness to a child. Remember him? He’s gone now. Him and all his whimsy pals. They all drove off a cliff, squeezed together like comic sardines in a tiny car. Kaboom.
So long. Gone are the glory days of the clown business. Once a birthday party staple, an entertaining and iconic buffoon, the world wants no more of it.
The cultural virus has effectively spread. Generations no longer see the clown as a symbol of joy and amusement. It’s visceral fear. Clowns are creepy... that’s what they say.
Gee, sure is tough out there for a clown. Clown biz can’t be good right now. I imagine the rate of enrollment for clown school is deep in the dumps.
And you know what? I feel bad for clowns. You know why? Because at the heart of a good clown is a very simple idea, they want to make people laugh. Or at least make them smile. That’s something I can relate to. Clowning is for those compelled to go out into the world, dress up like a wacko and create some bit of joy. If you think about it that way, it’s a notable effort. As a man who used to walk around with giant red balloons, it’s something I consider valuable and worthy of respect.
But the clown has been demonized. While I’ll admit we may not need them as a form of entertainment going forward, can we at least let the craft of clowning have it’s dignity? Can we allow it some respect as a form of historical art? Something jolly that once was. Creatures that once roamed with extraordinary shoes and murals on their faces. A pleasant amusement at parades, circus shows and the birthday parties of spoiled rotten kids.
I don’t think it’s a stretch to say these silly goofball troops have done something for our culture. Clowning, jestering, pantomiming, it’s all paved way for some of the greatest comedians and entertainers that exist today. Stand-up, improv, sketch — it stems from the same type of comedic soul. It's humor evolution.
So whatever, let’s be gone with the Bozos. Their time has past. Grimaldi would have been 240 years old. Patch Adams probably wouldn’t even be allowed in a hospital today. People might fear he’s there to pull pranks on the privates of the children.
The song Tears Of A Clown, really takes on a whole new meaning. I can only imagine, how many struggling clowns are weeping now. Tear streams carving a path down their face paint as they stare longingly in the mirror. Holding a sorrowful frown and pumping out a slow toot with their rusty ol' clown horn
Speaking of sad clowns, I always had a special appreciation for Emmett Kelly. I grew up with a painting hanging in my bedroom of his Clown character, Weary Willy. My grandma painted it. And I would stare at, feeling connected to its ironic sadness. I would get lost in it, spiraling into a daydreams and time sliding away. There was a deep feeling from it and so much mystique in its character. I didn't know why Willy was sad, but I loved Willy. And this may explain some of my sympathy for the clown. I spent a lot of loner time staring into the eyes of that clown. How’s that for creepy?
I do get it. Clowning is an oddball profession. I don’t think I’d want my child to be a clown. I would totally suggest and cheer him on towards other things. Like a doctor, filmmaker, or encourage them to be a franchisee of one of those new jazzy Danish cafes, Joe and The Juice! There are much better career choices and more profitable ways to contribute to the world. And that’s socially acceptable to say. Most people would agree. If I had a child that wanted to go to clown school, I could say, “No way, not my child! Not in this house! You’re not going to dress like a whackjob, wear primary colors and makeup on your face. Take off those floppy shoes! You are no cartoon, boy, you are my son!” I could pontificate these words righteously with my furrowed brow and finger waving in the air, I could hammer the message into him sternly, disapproving of his dream — and I’d do it all after picking him up from his Catholic School and driving him to his golf lesson.
I could disown him in hopes he would abandon such an outlandish desire for his future. I bet the world wouldn’t care or attack me with comments on the internet. Because clowns are creepy sons-of-bitches.
They're all clamoring for LBGTQIA rights, but none for the clown? I think we need to add a C... For all those boys and girls who secretly want to come out of the clown car.
When did it all take a dark turn? Why has the clown gone through such a horrifying image problem? Did a clown sleep with the wife of a major executive in hollywood who dedicated the past 35 years of his life to destroying the clown business and the very idea of a clown in the minds of everyone on earth? Did Bozo bang Stephen King’s wife? Is this all part of some long-running clown revenge, some relentless vendetta! They weren’t all pedophiles and flesh-eating murderers. What the hell did the clown do wrong? Okay, so there was that serial killer clown guy… but that was one sick looney.
I don’t personally know any clowns. My father isn’t a clown. I don’t have clown brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles. But I am defensive about this. Maybe it was because I was the class clown. I was also a clown for halloween once. And ya know what, I was darn-horn-tootin cute. I didn’t make anybody cry and run for their life. I was a hit! A handsome little clown.
What I really want, is for people to check in and ask themselves, “Am I really afraid of clowns? Do clowns really make me cry? Or am I just responding to an unjust cultural conditioning?”
Next time the topic comes up at small social gatherings, or your coworker office banter and you feel triggered to jump in the creepy clown conversation... right before you unload your totally unique story about that first time you saw IT. (When you were 8 and shouldn’t have been watching scary movies anyway.) Or that time you attended a corrupted child’s birthday party and you cried in the face of a clown... Just remember the heart of a true clown was one that lived and breathed to bring other people joy. By bringing other people light, they battled their own darkness.
What really bugs me is that people with the budget and power to create are carelessly bullying ideas or things that are vulnerable. They like to take joyful and happy things twisting them into dark, sick ideas. I don’t support this, I can’t remember the last time I gave my money for a scary movie.
The clown is a symbol and icon of our culture and it’s been tainted. Imagine if all the Christmas movies, advertisements and books started depicting Santa as a child molesting, kidnapping, murderous monster — an unstoppable force of wretched evil. And then after 30 years of seeing this in the media pipeline, we’ve now come to believe that Santa is a diabolical creep. He’s a beast lurking in our chimneys. Logically, who would dress up in a red suit, don a white beard, and ask children to sit on his lap, telling them lies and toying with their innocent imaginations? Surely this rosy-cheeked swine is a murderer! His wife is a savage white witch and he’s abusing his captive elves, forcing them to make his weapons for mass molestation. “Santa’s are creepy. I am afraid of Santas!” said a girl in 2075. Is this what we want for our children?
It makes me think about Harry Potter and the distinction I have in my mind between witchcraft and magic. Something extraordinary JK Rowling did was change the world’s perception of witches, she went the other way, by creating beloved and magical characters she made us believe in great witches and wizards. Maybe there’s an opportunity to redefine the clown and alas, save their silly souls. Maybe they just need a new story. I’d sure be on board to tell it... Someone please call Pete Doctor immediately, we need to meet.
Post Notes:
I’d never attend a clown themed pool party. Because wet clowns jumping into pools sounds gross and yes, even a little terrifying.
Clowns don’t get laid. No girl ever looked at a clown and said, “Damn, I wanna bang that bozo!”
Could the clown live on in a fashion hipster movement? Think clown patterns on the clothing at Zara. Primary solid colors, circle shapes, gigantic bow ties, hula hoop waist and big shoes. I could see it on a runway in Paris now. “Oui, z’ clown! Z’ Clown is so hot right now.”