I’ve just come across a souvenir booklet for the Circus World Museum that my parents must have bought for me on our trip there in the summer of 1972. I’m not sure why I felt I needed a booklet about the museum because I don’t remember really liking it much. In fact the only thing I remember about it was a clown talking to my dad out of character. I wrote about it on my Snapshots of my Life blog.

Baraboo is even more memorable to me. It was there I began my dislike for clowns. The museum put on a circus show several times daily and we got in late and didn’t have a seat so we stood by the opening to the tent. The clown act ended and one of the clowns came over, stood by my dad and said, “Hell of a way to make a living”. That in itself is not a reason to dislike clowns, but it ruined the magic for me. Clowns were supposed to be happy or tragic, but not dislike their occupation.

Me 2005