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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[sionnsar]

Doing a little better now. Just hope I can sleep in until 7:30 tomorrow, since I’m calling in to tomorrow’s 8 AM teleconference from home. Sometime tomorrow the A/C should be back.

[Monkey Face]

When one is used to A/C in the workplace, it’s a little difficult to try and work around it. Having had the same problem, I always kept a small fan at work. It’s amazing how much better my cubby was with the fan blowing on my middle-aged self!

[Tax-chick]

It’s in the mail - I drove to the p.o. this afternoon.

I’m getting a headache. I think I’ll have to drink some tea with sugar.

[Monkey Face]

:o])

I’ll make sure to check on Saturday...JIC.

Hunger headaches are absolutely beastly. I don’t envy you the next 12-16 hours. But I WILL be praying for you!!

[Tax-chick]

I don’t really feel hungry, because I’m full of diet 7-up and cran-apple juice, but the big hand is squeezing around my eyes. Maybe the purge medicine will have some carbohydrates or starch in it. Getting old is a drag. At least my nose is stuffed up, so I can’t smell the pizza the others are eating!

I got pictures made of Bill and Tom today. Took forever to get decent shots, but I think Mom will be happy.

[Darksheare]

Here in NY the Multivote was in full swing for Andrew Cuomo.

[sionnsar]

When one is used to A/C in the workplace, it’s a little difficult to try and work around it.

It's more difficult than that. The "air handler" is shut down so there's no forced-air movement in the building. This being a building from the 90s, it has no "operable" (openable) windows -- for which there is now interest from the "green building" movement. Worse, there are no openings to the outside from the second floor, so opening doors at ground level doesn't help. Without the HVAC running, upstairs just grows ever less bearable.

It just gets warmer and warmer and warmer...

I do have a small fan under the desk but this was beyond that. I rarely use the fan now ever since I got the HVAC guy to set the minimum temps for my office down to 68F or so, most are at 70 - 72, plus a bit higher airflow AND I don't have hydronic heating the way the outer offices do.

If Corporate weren't death on wireless connecting to our in-house networks I might have gone outside to the picnic table to work. It's a gorgeous day, and short shirt-sleeve weather.

[Monkey Face]

Ah, sion...you have my deepest sympathy...

[sionnsar]

Getting old is a drag.

Just wait until you really start getting older! *\B^| When I finally got glasses (just shy of 50) I thought it was all over. Now those are the good old days.

Getting a haircut and beard trim Sunday so I'll look a bit less Santa-like on the upcoming trip. Need to look professional for the speaking engagements at the conference.

[sionnsar]

Ah, sion...you have my deepest sympathy..

Oh, it's fine and I'm happy, once I learned what was going on.

I had to stick around the office until 2 PM for a one-on-one meeting about my presentation for next week's conference (upshot: I don't have to learn/use this complex audience Q&A device they're using, nor integrate it into my presentation).

Stayed later to work on the powerpoint some more -- an hour or two tomorrow, after all the morning teleconferences, and I should be ready. I'll call into the first, at least, from home, and maybe the others. Then maybe to a "nearby" library to finish the powerpoint -- for me in-office meetings are so rare I don't need to be there unless I need to use the phone. (I don't have/want a corporate Crackberry.)

I'm home for 6 days more, life is good!

But praying your transportation situation resolves quickly.

[Monkey Face]

You know your office and its working much better than anyone else, so all I can do is trust that you are more aware than the rest of us!!

Hopefully, tomorrow will be The Day that MD lives again. We shall see!

[sionnsar]

Hopefully, tomorrow will be The Day that MD lives again.

I am way too tired, and was up hours before the sun. What is "MD"?

[Monkey Face]

MD is Miss Daisy!

I know how that tired thingy goes... it’s OK!

[sionnsar]

Oh yeah. Too many acronyms...

[Tax-chick]

I’ve worn glasses since I was 12. I really need a haircut, too - it’s looking like Albert Einstein’s.

[Monkey Face]

Life was much simpler before acronyms came into play.

:o])

[Monkey Face]

I’ve worn glasses since I was seven...suddenly, the alphabet above the blackboard was obviously clear. Until then, the folks that taught me thought I was facetious. Idiots.

I was folding my papers into really tiny squares, making sure that I got up to 110 on a side. In the first grade. Idiots.

And longhand in the second grade, which was “not acceptable.” Idiots.

I’m sure all the teachers are dead, now, but still...would it have made the local papers if they had encouraged me? Idiots.

[Tax-chick]

I was folding my papers into really tiny squares, making sure that I got up to 110 on a side.

I think you and Pat are related ;-).

I'm outta here - I'm going to try to get Frank to bed before I drink the Purge. *shudder*

[Monkey Face]

See? Patrick and I are kindred spirits. Along with my son....

I’ll pray for you. Purging is not fun for any of us. From either end. No matter what the reason.

[Tax-chick]

I’m almost through 2 liters of the gunk. My innards are starting to make weird noises. (Don’t worry, I won’t give excessive detail ;-).