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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[Tax-chick]

[Monkey Face]

Happy Thanksgiving!

[NicknamedBob]

Has anyone even noticed that no matter how incompetent I am at my job, we still get weather every day?

— “The Imperial Weatherman”

[Tax-chick]

Morning, all. 47 and occasional drizzle here. Frank got up at 5, went back to bed at 7, got up again at 9:45. Fortunately, I couldn’t get dressed and go to Mass (because he sleeps in my closet) because Elen broke the heat lamp on Santana’s cage into the cage, requiring a complete cleanout of the cage and a whole new batch of sand.

Being as she’s never allowed to open the lizard cages in the first place, she’s now the household skivvy for the entire day - into tomorrow, if tasks aren’t completed successfully and expeditiously.

If it were up to me, all the lizards and their accoutrements would be listed on eBay tomorrow, and DP could go on a private sailing vacation with the proceeds.

[Monkey Face]

Bob. It’s called “job security.”
:o])

[NicknamedBob]

"If it were up to me, all the lizards and their accoutrements would be listed on eBay tomorrow, and DP could go on a private sailing vacation with the proceeds."

From a feminine perspective, inasmuch as I am able to pull off such a thing, that has the sound of a "win/win".

[Monkey Face]

29 when I got up. We may have a high of 47, but no rain in the forecast. It was gloomy and cold yesterday, but today it will be sunny and cold.

Nothing quite so dramatic as lizard doings, but then, I don’t have a lot of extra bodies here. OK. No extra bodies. Just mine.

I’m going to take a shower in a bit and then make some pies. I’ll see my sister tomorrow, but I won’t stay for dinner, I think. I have a ham and some sweet potatoes, but don’t know if I’ll warm it up or not. Right now it sounds like too much work. *yawn*

[sionnsar]

My contribution to Thanksgiving will be two homemade pumpkin pies, complete with real whipped cream topping! Otherwise, the day will be spent alone, as usual, with my FRiends!!

Well, we're here. Or at least I am. The rain didn't come -- it's snowing again, so we might be going nowhere.

[Monkey Face]

There are worse things to do besides stay home. You could go outside and get very cold.

I can do that in here! I’m waiting for the bathroom to warm up a little. Heat lamp, and all that.

[Tax-chick]

This whole day is sounding like too much work for me. But oh well ...

I’ve got the roaster out of the garage and cleaned up, so that DP can get the turkey started. We’ve almost got the dragon cage disaster cleaned up. Then I’ll make the sweet potato pies, so I can see if I have enough potato ready.

If you weren’t stuck with a substitute confuser, I could FAX you a mouse for company!

[NicknamedBob]

"There are worse things to do besides stay home."

Quite often, there are no better things to do.

I'm home today. Anybody who wants to visit, come on over.

[sionnsar]

I still have to find someone who can help me extract the data from the hard drive.

If the drive is still working it's not hard, though it takes a little technical knowledge. If it's a PC drive one can install it as a second drive in the case; if it's a laptop drive there are "sleeves" one can install it in to make it a USB drive.

I bought one of those a few years ago when an earlier work laptop died -- I not only got the data off it, the drive and sleeve became one of my backup devices. I forgot to bring it home yesterday and was going to get it after Mass this morning, but with it snowing I'm not sure we're going anywhere.

[sionnsar]

Oh, well - it’s still a long time to Christmas!

I'll say. It's not even Advent yet!

The New Year starts Sunday.

[sionnsar]

Much easier! We are not yet grandparents.

Neither are we. I have a friend younger than me who is already a great-grandparent, but we come from long-lived stock. No hurry.

[sionnsar]

Has anyone even noticed that no matter how incompetent I am at my job, we still get weather every day

Considering the alternative, that's a good thing.

Or maybe not. Snow always brings the treat of loss of electricity. As does wind. (Which is why we started doing our turkeys on the Weber. Yum!)

[NicknamedBob]

"No hurry."

I do appreciate that philosophy.

[Monkey Face]

I suspect I would know the mouse was coming...

[sionnsar]

There are worse things to do besides stay home. You could go outside and get very cold.

Yah. LoM says "No mas" (or was that "no Mass"?) and hasn't touched her coffee yet. But I have to go outside and get very cold to prepare the Weber. Which is parked on the wrong end of the deck so I have to shovel snow to get to it. Which means going downstairs to the garage to get the shovel, with a new CFL in hand to replace the one that finally died after 10+ years' service 24/7.

[Monkey Face]

It’s a PC drive. It still works but keeps defaulting to the “Safe Mode” screen, no matter what I select. I’m hoping I can keep the data when I find someone to take it all apart.

Beyond my ken, for sure!
In the meantime, I’m using a laptop and trying to get used to it. One good thing: I can watch Netflix movies on it!

[Monkey Face]

My friend in Utah (two months younger) has six great-grandkids, the oldest I believe is about 12.

I don’t even look for great-grandkids. Nice idea, but out of my hands.