Apparently, today is the last day for the venerable Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. It’s doing its final performance tonight. I’m kinda sad and not sad that it’s ending. I always liked the circus when I was a kid (although I’ve always hated clowns) and have some good memories about circuses. I’ve never been a fan of mistreating animals, though.
Yesterday was the 13th anniversary of the death of my father so I want to share a circus memory involving him.
Almost 23 years ago (this coming July) I fell while trimming a tree and severely broke the end of the long bone of my right arm at the wrist. It was early in the morning of my father’s birthday and involved a trip to the emergency department, an elastic bandage (they didn’t cast it ‘cause I was going to need extensive surgery) and a few ibuprofen. Here’s the kicker: we had made these big plans to take my father to a fancy dinner and then downtown to see the circus that very night. He loved the circus and all he wanted for his birthday was tickets to the circus.
We went to dinner and went to the circus. About an hour into it, the ibuprofen wore off and I was in such pain. I didn’t even think to bring more. No one had any in their pockets or purses and I was dying. I finally had to excuse myself, leave the circus, miss the second half and suffer in the car in great pain. My father offered to leave to take me home and I told him I would be okeh. No way was I going to be responsible for him missing the circus!
That’s it. That’s the story. My dad had a fantastic time and then I had to have surgery. If you’re interested, you can read an old blog entry I did about that whole other part of the story here.