Lightning Rod Gets The Zot

The Poet's Eye ^ | Lightning Rod

[Lrod]

A character like Christine O'Donnell presents a unique problem for a humorist. Few elaborations are called for since the caricature is self-embodied. All that is needed is a dead-pan Jack Benny look. You know, the one where he just stares blankly at the audience without saying a word and eventually someone titters and before you know it the whole place is in hysterics? Her very existence as a major party candidate for US Senate is the kind of comedy which arrives ready-written and would only be spoiled by embellishment. I mean, what can you add to rabidantimasturbationtarianism, rats with fully-functioning human brains and her famous Witches of Eastwick campaign ad that looks like it was produced by Tim Burton? I had fully intended to leave Ms. O'Donnell to the other comedians and the pundits who were wearing her out on cable TV. But then came the most recent revelation that she has claimed that her father was Bozo the Clown. Here I had to break my silence, not in the name of humor, but in the cause of veracity. This is a subject I happen to know something about.

Long ago, for one magic season, I was related by marriage to Bozo the Clown. I'm not making this up. My father was a semi-notorious lothario in the television and advertising business. Sometime after he turned 50, he married the 17 year-old daughter of one of his professional colleagues, Larry Harmon, the guy who owned the franchise to Bozo, the Most Famous Clown in the World. He was Bozo Primero, not one of the many FauxZos who were franchised in every major media market. I was much closer to the power center of the Bozo world than Ms. O'Donnell ever dreamed of being. It gave me an intimate glimpse into the backstage life of clowns. I knew little of the inside workings of the clown business in those days. Like a naive child, I had assumed that, you know, Bozo was Bozo. It never occurred to me that there was a school, like a Bozo boot-camp, where imposters went to learn how to walk like a Bozo and talk like a Bozo and draw the red rictus of a smile on their faces with greasepaint. It was like learning a dirty family secret and it was a big disappointment. When you go to see Bozo, you want it to really be Bozo, not some guy dressed up in a Bozo costume.

I hadn't thought about my brief inclusion in greasepaint royalty for years until Ms. O'D surfaced with her claims of actually being a blood relative of Bozo the Clown. The marriage between my father and Princess Bozo, which was chronologically challenged to begin with, barely outlasted the honeymoon. They had about as much in common as Christine would have in common with the 99 other US Senators. Suddenly the whole subject bubbled from my subconscious and made me wonder about franchises and politicians and the authenticity of clowns.

Since John Quincy Adams carried forth his father's political legacy, American politicians have campaigned on the richness of their family's past public service. Roosevelt and Kennedy and Bush all represent minor dynasties and it is entirely in keeping with this tradition for Ms. O'D to claim descent from Bozo. Clowning is as present in the current of American politics as populism, liberalism or conservatism. But in light of Ms. O'D's penchant for resume enhancement, she fibbed about her college career and has downplayed her wiccan studies, her claims to clownly ancestry are also suspect. While she seems like a natural and can certainly get a laugh and works well in the side-shows, one has to wonder if she is really ready for the Big Top, the center ring.

The US Senate is the Big League of Buffoonery. Even pros like Colbert have trouble hanging there. It's a tough room. Notice that Al Franken, even with all his years of practical comic experience, has been keeping mum in deference to the mime-masters of the Senate. These clowns can juggle, ride unicycles, do pratfalls and get shot from cannons, all with the perfect dead-pan of their painted-on media faces. They are consummate clowns adept with all the tricks, the seltzer bottle, the pie-in-the-face, the filibuster. I don't want to get all Stephen King on you but these aren't nice clowns. Ms. O'D should think twice before she alienates her witch constituency, she may need some strong juju to avoid the dunking stool. They'll make her the senator-punk-clown. Every troupe of clowns has one, the smallest clown, bottom of the pecking order, the one who all the other clowns slap and when there is no smaller clown for her to slap, she turns to the audience with her out-turned palms and pitiful Emmett Kelly frown and says, "I am you."

Two of the greatest Senatorial Clowns, Lloyd Bentson and Dan Quayle, in their famous vice-presidential debate in 1988 demonstrated the type of cut-throat comedy these jokers are capable of. When Quayle set the joke up by comparing his inexperience to the inexperience of Jack Kennedy, Bentson spiked it with this punch-line, "Senator," he said, "I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you are no Jack Kennedy."

The Poet's Eye would like to say to Christine O'Donnell in this same spirit, "Ms. O'Donnell, you say your father is Bozo. Well, I knew Bozo. Bozo was briefly my step-grand-father-in-law. Christine, your father was no Bozo."

Yes I’m stuck in the middle with you, and I’m wondering what it is I should do. It’s so hard to keep this smile from my face. Losing control yeah I'm all over the place.

Clowns to the left of me! Jokers to the right! Here I am stuck in the middle with you. ---Joe Egan and Gerry Rafferty

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[Monkey Face]

I’ve been using mouse traps since I was a wee kid. I know how to set them and test for sensitivity. It wasn’t the trap or trapper at fault, but the wilyness of the mouse. I saw him one morning...fat, sleek and bold.

And he had made multiple nibbles...

[Tax-chick]

I don’t know ... would a dead mouse in winter smell bad enough for anyone other than the catz to notice, or would it just dessicate under the refrigerator?

[Anoreth]

Disgusting. Send Santana down there. Perhaps a live prey will encourage him to mutate.

[Anoreth]

Or he might just hibernate behind the fridge.

[Monkey Face]

Depends on what shelf of the fridge you’re trying to find something on. Dead is dead.

[Tax-chick]

Or Santana would move into the bowels of the refrigerator. Ugh. I’m sure a dead dragon would stink.

56 degrees. Frank went to sleep, having been awakened at 5:00 by the early guitarzania. We can go shopping after lunch, maybe. I’m out of 7-up.

[Monkey Face]

I have to go to Walmart and pick up my Nitro, but I don’t really want to be out in this stuff. Still, tomorrow will be worse, I’m sure!

I hate the wind.

[Tax-chick]

I’m almost done with an episode of “Midsomer Murders.” I think I’ve figured out the murderer because just about everyone else is dead.

[Monkey Face]

LOL!

I won’t have another movie until Monday. Yesterday, I watched “The Thin Man Goes Home.” I just love Myrna Loy! She was such a classy broad!

Maybe when I get back from Wally World, I’ll start work on a couple of sock monkey dolls for my niece’s kids. It’s a day to do something quiet. Like nap. ;o]

[Tax-chick]

Turns out I was still wrong.

[ColdOne]

Morning.. snowed all night. It is beautiful with the full moon at night. Looking out the window to the other cabins and trees. I hope you all having a nice safe Saturday. See Ya!

We have a foot of snow now.

[Monkey Face]

OHNO!

Did the butler do it? Col. Mustard in the Library with the Wrench?

[Monkey Face]

Sounds like you’re having my share of snow! I’ll gladly give it up for you!

The snow level is expected to be about 4500’ by tomorrow evening, so I’m sure when I wake up Monday, I’ll see lots of snow on the Spring and Sheep Ranges. Just where I like it!

[Tax-chick]

No, the old guy in the wheelchair, with a pistol and a remote controlled machine gun, in that order. He also had a remote controlled car bomb and a hay bailer, but those didn’t kill anyone.

Dang.

[Monkey Face]

Whoa! I guess he wasn’t screened by TSA...

[ColdOne]

We knew before we moved up here this area gets a lot of snow. It happens in 5 year spurts though. Last year they only used the skidder to plow our road 3 times. Mr ColdOne only used the snow blower twice. So we are due.

[sionnsar]

And early welcome back!

Thanks! It's good to be back, even if I'm a bit groggy this morning, and... it's cold, bare and wintry out there. Brrr...

[Anoreth]

You spelled baler wrong.
30 degrees in the sun and getting colder.

[Tax-chick]

LOL! I’m not sure the TSA would have spotted the hay baler.

[Tax-chick]

I got it right the second time. 60 here. All the leftover pizza has disappeared. Maybe Tom ate it for breakfast.