“In all of our spirits, we’ve been cozened.”
The athletic middle-aged woman leans into the crowd in a comfortable hotel conference room. She hasn’t lost the flat twang of the Midwest in her speech as she addresses the crowd sans microphone. She’s talking about funny business, but not being very funny. “We put on the war paint and baggy pants and believe it’s gonna be love at first sight, now and forever” she lectures her audience. She goes into a goofy little dance, then stops -- completely deadpan.
“It’s time to wake up and smell the creepy clowns” she warns.
The crowd is not that big -- a few dozen, mostly retired. But they hang on every word the energetic woman says. They nod as she expands on her warning and message. It’s the second day of a Clown Convention in Provo, Utah. Unaffiliated with the World Clown Association, the meeting has still drawn some big clown comedy guns. Such as the current speaker -- Michelle Thompson. Thompson worked with various Shrine circuses for twenty years as both a clown and wardrobe mistress. But now she’s on a mission.
She goes on to explain that mankind has a tangled relationship with clowns that goes back thousands of years, and is still relevant today -- what with a new version of both Bozo and Penny the Clown making the entertainment rounds. How do we feel about Ronald McDonald or Insane Clown Posse? People are becoming more and more afraid and suspicious of clowns -- why is this happening and what can be done about it? This particular clown convention was supposed to attract over three-thousand visitors -- but that estimate was way off. Only three hundred showed up for the event.
Guerilla advertising has taken a sick advantage of the public’s fascination with clowns, says Thomas. In recent months several news stories have appeared about scary clowns wielding knifes and swords along busy roadsides until they were picked up by police. It turns out they were local temps hired to scare up business for upcoming indie movies. And that’s sad.
Thompson opens things up for the naming of scary clowns -- a way to get the enemy in their sites, so to speak. The names that pop up include John Wayne Gacy and Penny the Clown and even the Joker from Batman. The room is buzzing with negative energy now. When the crowd runs out of names, Thompson begins her pep talk -- encouraging each attending clown, whether professional or amateur, to not give up the good fight for a good honest laugh.
“Never take work as a blood soaked clown in a haunted house!” she chants, almost like a mantra. “Don’t ever smoke or drink while in makeup! You can’t swear when you’re in your clown character! And for heaven’s sake, make sure you set high standards for your personal hygiene and stick to them -- also plan on dry cleaning and other expenses for your costumes. Even a hobo clown should smell like aftershave and his or her patches should be clean!”
After workshops and a dinner catered by the local locavore restaurant Good Thymes, which consisted mostly of squash themed dishes and beet salad, Thompson gave a closing thought to the assembled clowns.
“Clowns are not on their way out, like dinosaurs and rotary phones” she promised the crowd. “We are still relevant to society and have much to say in the laughter of our times and on our planet. So give of yourself with charity appearances and spread the gospel of giddiness with your own workshops in your own hometowns!”
I overheard one elderly lady, who wore a brooch pin reading “Clowns do it Better!”, say to her companion on their way out -- “I’m still not sure clowns are anything more than Halloween costumes anymore.”
I have a sinking feeling she’s right.
