They Say You Can't Go Back

My memories always seem to have blurry edges. Unlike my friend, Mandy, who remembers what grade she was in when she went on every field trip, I can say with reasonable accuracy if I have been somewhere and that's about it. I don't know how old I was or how many times I went, but I do remember going to the circus and, with one exception (creepy clowns who came into the stands), I loved it. The animal acts were amazing and, my favorite, the motorcycle riders in the iron cage ball, made me want to at least learn to ride my bicycle.

But, it has probably been 25 years since I went to the circus and I really didn't know what to expect. I live in the land of PETA, so there is no way you can buy your circus tickets without guilt. I have seen Cirque du Soleil, a circus with enough talent to enthrall the older and more jaded audience. Was there any magic left in the circus for me?

We were going to find out. I took Fin and her friend, K, to the Ringling Brothers circus today. We found our seats just as the lights were lowered, "Ladies and gentlemen!" boomed the ringmaster and from behind the bandstands poured dozens of performers. There were stilt walkers, dancers, gymnasts... then came the horses, prancing around the arena wearing their feathered headpieces. They were so beautiful; all glossy coats and proud necks. Finally, out came the elephants, some with girls riding them, all of them holding the tail of the elephant in front. I was cheering and clapping and even tearing up a little. Oh, it was just as good as I remembered.

I loved it. I loved it all. I loved the sequin-laden costumes that seemed to change every ten minutes. I loved the guy who was set on fire and launched off of the enormous crossbow while men dressed like Mayan priests at a Pride parade carried torches around the arena. I loved the three simultaneous rings of equestrian acts including the zebras who seemed to forget the act and jumped the edge of the ring only to look confused as to where their herd had gone. I loved the "Strongmen from Uzbekistan" (which sounds better, if not as truthful, as "Fat Guys from Trenton"). I loved the gymnast who tumbled the length of the floor wearing a flame colored, ankle length dress that made her look like a goddess. I loved the thick-bellied tigers who moved in slow motion and lazily bat the tails of the tiger next to them. I even loved the new breed of clown; less creepy makeup, more electric guitar. It was fabulous and kind of cheesy, but only in the way they tried so hard to make sure everyone had a good time. I am so glad I went.

Oh, and I think the girls enjoyed it, too.