Growing up in the 50’s and early 60’s I was exposed the circuses from many angles. There was the Saturday morning kid’s TV show “Circus Boy” starring a kid who would later be the Monkee’s drummer Mickey Dolenz. Don Ameche had a TV program showcasing a different, predominantly European circus every week. The Disney movie “Toby Tyler” was the story of a boy who ran off to join the circus. And my parents took me and my brothers and sister to see Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Baileys show on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately I have a strange history with the circus type events I’ve witnessed. Days after seeing the Flying Wallendas high wire balancing act in Cleveland perform the “7 Person Pyramid” early in 1962, they fell during a show in Detroit. Two men died and a third was paralyzed from the neck down. Yet patriarch Karl Wallenda and the remaining members took to the wire the very next night. Around that same time days after seeing a group of acrobats perform on very tall swaying poles on which they would do handstands…even exchanging places in mid air…at Cleveland’s Sportsman’s Show…this troupe too fell in Detroit…killing at least one. And shortly after my wife and I were married, we saw a small circus at the Ohio State Fair. That evening on the local news we saw that one of the trapeze artists had fallen later in the day breaking her back. I questioned at this point whether I should even attend another big top. Perhaps I was a jinx of some sort.

Not to worry because Cirque D Soleil’s spectacle “Dralion” isn’t a circus at all. And it’s not…fortunately…because they eschew animal acts…which I believe is healthy for all of us. There is nothing “death defying”. No sword swallowers or trapeze artists. Sure the $12 program…which consists of approximately 47 beautiful color photos and 4 paragraphs of reading material…has a huge picture of people on the trapeze. But there were none to be seen this evening. I grew up believing there was something…well…scary about the circus. The scariest aspect of the “Circus of the Sun” is the clowns. At times they were downright macabre…funny yes…but macabre in a European sort of clown way.

Many people who had previously witnessed “Dralion” told me it was awesome. I can’t prescribe to that overused description. No doubt it was a great show. But it was more Los Vegas like than anything. More Julie Taymor meets P.T. Barnum under the big top with Twyla Tharp choreographing. Giant puppets…elaborately dressed singers high in the air…un-death defyingly however…people popping up from trap doors…sailing down from the ceiling. There was a never-ending flow of sinewy bodies racing onstage. Bam! Bam!.Bam! No ringmaster introducing the next act. I wasn’t disappointed per se…more surprised at the show’s relentlessness. Everything appeared so perfect that it seemed overly rehearsed. It was as if a performer might be shot at sunrise because they dropped a ball while juggling. (Circus of the Being Shot at Sunrise?)

The jump ropers (arguably the dumbest portion of the event)…acrobats…people flying off teeter boards…folks balancing on balls…this was all quite entertaining. And the staging was incredible. Most impressive were the “hoop divers” who amazingly threw themselves through multi-sized hoops at seemingly impossible angles. Then…one of them knocked over the hoop he was to fly through. I let out a sigh of relief…some humanity amongst the surreal. But as a friend of mine reminded me while telling him about the show…perhaps that too was staged…a part of the plan.

So if you enjoy enormously staged…Vegas type entertainment by all means check out “Dralion”. But if you are expecting a circus in any historical sense of the term forget it. Just because it’s performed in a big top doesn’t make it the circus. I spent a summer sleeping in a tee pee once. That hardly qualifies me as a Native American.

One observation I did make…and this is probably because younger people don’t have the same experience with circus entertainment as I…the audience seemed to eat all this acrobatics up, like some one gorging themselves after days of fasting. This stuff isn’t on television anymore. Varity shows in the 50’s and even the 60’s had jugglers…high wire acts…guys spinning plates atop sticks. Legendary clowns like Emmett Kelly and Red Skelton were staples on the tube back then. In this sense it did my heart good watching people get excited about physical entertainment. Where else are they going to see this?

So despite it’s underlying corporate feel…it’s relentlessness in presentation…it’s admission price…and the East meets West promotion that is somewhat misleading (the vast majority of entertainers were Asian.) “Dralion” is highly entertaining. It’s good albeit expensive family fare. Being in the big top is fun too. Just don’t expect to be sitting on the edge of your seat worrying some one is going to fall.

The Co-Op
by Rick Brown

Right down the street from where I live…just a block…there’s a food co-op I belong to. I just shop there and try to be friendly when I go in. I’m glad it’s there. Still…my avoidance of all things organized keeps me from getting more familiar. I’m kinda funny like that.

So I sauntered down there for a few items for the week. Trail-mix…dog chews…dark chocolate…apples…a six-pack of beer. You know…some of the finer things in this good life. Since the place just began selling beer and wine a short while ago, you must have an ID no matter how old you look. It’s smart really. There are still plenty of folks who don’t care for old hippies…neo-hippies…people who want to live “simply”…vegetarians. What used to be called counter-culture. And what might be known as “suspicious” today. (Wait…wasn’t this “suspicious” 35 years ago?)

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A Rose by Any Other Name
by Rick Brown

One of the very best things about working at a large university is the influx of international students. Especially in the library where I spend most of my waking time there is no shortage of diversity. Several years ago I worked in close proximity with an attractive young woman from Spain. Her name was Carolina (pronounced “Care oh leen - ah”). She was vivacious, fun loving…and like most Europeans…well traveled compared to her American classmates.

While at work one fine day I was in a particularly jovial mood…for a change…when I noticed Carolina sorting books for re-shelving. I smiled at her and…using my best Curly Howard impression (which isn’t very good) I shouted in her direction, “What’s shakin’ toots?” She stopped what she was doing…gave me a curious look…then swiftly walked up to where I was standing. Appearing perplexed…not at all angry…she leaned towards me and whispered, “Did you just call me ‘tits’?”

I immediately realized the inherent danger a miscommunication such as this might befall me in this the 21st Century. “No! No! No! Of course I didn’t call you ‘tits’!” I emphatically replied. I patiently spent the next five minutes or so trying to explain first who the Three Stooges were. This went only a little better than the time I was telling her about the cookie loving…always begging…floating through the air with satisfaction after devouring a biscuit…cartoon dog from “Quickdraw McGraw” called Snuffles. But hey…most Americans don’t remember Snuffles. Surely the Stooges had a worldwide reputation. Well…perhaps 50 years ago they did.

Secondly I gave Carolina a history lesson that could have been titled “American Slang from the 1930’s and 40’s”. “Toots” is an old slang term like “dame” or the more modern “chick”, I told her. She looked quizzically into my eyes. “I was merely using an archaic term of endearment to say hello to you. It has nothing to do with body parts. I was just being funny. The word is ‘toots’. It’s like ‘cutie’ or something like that.”

Carolina pondered this for a moment. There was no anger in her face…just contemplation…a mulling over of the word “toots”. She then looked directly into my eyes…smiled wryly…in a somewhat nonplussed sort of way…and cheerfully proclaimed for all to hear, “It’s okay. You can call me ‘tits’!”