Send in the Clowns

Cherub and Angel

We didn't start out as a clown family. There was one year when big brother Skippy donned a clown costume and became "Beepo the Clown" for my 6th birthday.

Tammy and BEEPO

But that was a one time thing. My little sister was absolutely terrified of clowns.  Ronald McDonald was not someone she ever wanted to meet, even if he was giving out free balloons. She would scream hysterically if a clown suddenly appeared at a Sears sidewalk sale or a business grand opening gala.

So it seems a bit strange that we all ended up being clowns years later. Here is how it all began:

Mom had recently come out on the other side of a very bad relationship that ended in 1975 and had not only had left her broken-hearted but also broke.  She spent a good part of 1976 crying, talking long distance to her sister, and taking up with a parade of paroled felons who swooped in looking for  any spoils that my step-father Paris Young may have left behind.  There was a small window of time when she was in between bad relationships, from June until August.  With no man to occupy her time, she was free to spread her wings a bit and try something different.

School let out for the summer. It was the Bicentennial and the whole country was excitedly planning  patriotic celebrations.  The Summer Olympics in Montreal Canada was getting ready to take over my attention. And Mom decided to sign up for Clown College.

San Diego State University offered a 3 unit course in clownology. It cost about $90, not including make-up and costume, and lasted a couple months.  I don't know how Mom discovered it or why she decided to go for it. Starting in June,  she drove to SDSU for evening clown classes for the whole summer.  She would come home very excited, telling me about what they learned in class.  There are many things one must have in order to become a proper clown.  Make-up, costumes, and props are the big three.  One must think up a proper name, and then design a costume which reflects that name.  Mom, who was given the name "Angel" by the swindling, good for nothing, felonious man who had abandoned her the previous December, decided to hang on to the moniker, not only in real life but also for her clown name.

Mom met many very nice people who were also studying clownology.  In July she hosted quite a few parties, where her clown classmates would converge on the scene and practice putting on make-up.  I was pulled into the group, where they practiced on me too.

I was the make-up guinea pig

I was 15 and had other things on my mind that didn't include hanging out with a bunch of older people who wanted to paint my face and teach me how to make balloon animals.  But I didn't have much choice in the matter. I got to know these folks and was impressed by the things they did in real life.  There were dentists, fire fighters, doctors, artists, and business majors. Their enthusiasm was endearing and contagious.  By the time the class graduated, I was a clown too.  And soon after I was pressed into clown service, my younger brother and sister were pulled into the life as well.

The clown students went on many field trips during the summer. We all went to the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus, specifically to watch the clown acts. The students marched in parades. They visited nursing homes and mental wards. They hung out in Balboa Park. People loved the crazy group. It seemed like there was always someone wanting a clown for their event back in those days.

The class made front page news. Angel is under the giraffe head

Mom spent a lot of time and money on her costume.  After a few false starts, she ended up with a square dancing-style dress and added petticoats, wings, and a halo.  There were lots of rules to learn if one wanted to be a proper clown. Some of them I remember were:  No smoking or getting drunk.  All body parts must be covered, either with makeup, wigs, hats, gloves, or clothing.  No bare hands allowed. One must never copy another clown's facial make-up.  And they all had to take a pie to the face. That was part of the final exam.

The Graduation ceremony was held on campus.  I remember that Walt Disney Studios was there to film some of it.  They planned to use some footage in a future Mickey Mouse Club episode.

Graduation Day

Angel with her diploma. There were lots of film crews there

Angel and her classmates, and me

Tammy, Poco, and Angel

In the end, Mom really didn't enjoy clowning too much. She took a few jobs here and there, but we three kids always had to accompany her and do most of the work.

Getting ready to get in the Clown camper to go to a job.  Sadsam, Sunbeam, Angel, Cherub, and one of our tiny Poodles

An inner city street fair

Oktoberfest 1976. Making balloon animals for the kids

We eventually figured out our costumes, make-up, and names. 

SadSam and Cherub

I became Cherub, Jeff was SadSam, and Tabatha was Sunbeam.  I had learned from Poco (the dentist) how to juggle.  I learned from Dr. All-Thumbs (the doctor) how to make balloon animals.  I did not have a pump to blow up balloons.  Back in the day, you had to use your lungs. Jeff learned a few magic tricks, and Tabatha could ride the unicycle really well. I also brought Poodles with me to some events.  We had a tiny blue Honda Civic with an 8 track tape player.  Mom had a tape of calliope circus music, and she blasted the stereo on our way to the gigs.  Kids would come running out of their houses because they thought it was the ice cream truck! They would instead see a tiny car with four clowns waving at them.

Tabatha, Cherub, and SadSam with Nephew Darwin David, and Nieces Samya and Jennifer.  I may be smiling, but I also had a horrible toothache that day and later had to have a molar pulled out.  

Within a few months, Mom was pretty much burned out. She figured out the clowning was not really much fun at all.  Her costume was heavy, thick and hot. It was exhausting work. You had to be upbeat, flexible, and willing to put up with crazy, screaming kids. You also had to be able to work through illness and pain. By the summer of 1977, Angel the Clown had retired and was sending Cherub, SadSam, and Sunbeam out to do the entertaining.

SadSam, Sunbeam, Angel, and Cherub (and Poodle) with nieces Sara and Becky

During the summers of 1977, 1978 and 1979, we worked with Vernon the Old Fashioned Clown (a retired Ronald McDonald) to provide entertainment at huge company picnics. These affairs took place at a Western-style venue in El Cajon called The Big Oak Ranch.  El Cajon in the summertime is miserably hot.  It usually exceeds 100 degrees.  And Saturdays and Sundays found us out there in full costume, make-up and wigs, sweating until our costumes were soaked. I did a juggling act, then inflated balloons and twisted them into animal shapes as quickly as possible for long lines of kids. Sunbeam unicycled to disco dance music on the stage,  and SadSam pulled off rudimentary magic tricks.  Vernon usually handed out candy. We would spend five sweaty hours dealing with hundreds of wild and sometimes bratty kids, watching everyone feasting on BBQ and wishing we could be having fun instead of having to work the party. Then it would finally be over and Vernon would drive us back home and hand us a check to give Mom. We would then spend the next couple of hours scrubbing all our greasepaint off. It was not a fun way to spend summer weekends. We kids truly hated it.

I still have Angel's clown badge 

I learned alot about hard work during our three years of clowning.  You must be patient and you need  to have a good sense of humor. You must be able to work through the worst of days. If you have a cold or, as I often did, a toothache, too bad--the show must go on.  If you are depressed and sad, you must nevertheless act happy. As much as I disliked it at the time,  I appreciate what clowning taught me.  The Eagle Street Clown Crew existed a mere three years, but the work ethic lessons that clowning taught me has lasted for a lifetime.