Well hi there. It certainly has been a while, and that is all my fault. This is a blog. This is not an essay writing contest, a novel, a magazine, or even a final paper for a class. Yet, perhaps I have been treating it as such. While several ideas have gone through my mind to share over the last several months, the pressure I subtly place on myself to make my thoughts perfectly cohesive and/or inspiring made procrastination the most enticing choice. Dumb. I know. So to alleviate my self-induced pressure and use this forum as an appropriate form of simple expression, I will tell you a tale of some potentially notorious, Highland Park Clowns.
Earlier this evening, Jourdan, Kristen and I were driving through Highland Park back to our apartment in Dallas. For those of you not familiar with the Dallas area, Highland Park is what I like to call Fancyland. The homes are elaborate, the cars are shiny, and high-maintenance personal grooming is expected. Highland Park is about as diverse as Barbie, Ken, and their friends, minus the ethnic dolls. Honestly, it's an area of town I do not fully understand, but is fascinating nonetheless.
As we drove down Lovers Lane, chatting randomly, we somehow got on the topic of clowns and their cars and I can't exactly recall how, but the conversation took a delightfully silly turn and somehow morphed into a scheme. At one point in our clown convo, Kristen asked what we imagined when we thought of a clown car. The general consensus was an old model, VW bug type car, perhaps painted pink with all sorts of bright, flower decals. Jourdan made the point that the horn would probably honk a tune like the Entertainer or some other circusy sounding song. Kristen, said she imagined a red clown nose on the hood. I asked if we could upgrade our clown car to a clown van, and have an old, pink, flowery VW bus complete with silly honk noises and a squeaky red nose. They both agreed.
As we were laughing about clowns and wondering how the stereotypical clown in our minds became, in fact, the stereotypical clown (I mean, who decided huge red, clown shoes were funny, and why is it only socially acceptable for clowns to wear them?), somewhere between those thoughts, Jourdan piped in with a great idea. She said, "I keep laughing to myself, imagining the three of us dressed in full-on traditional clown gear while driving our VW clown van around Highland Park, making it our mission to bring some momentary joy through the squeak of our noses, a clever clown skit, or our multi-colored afro wigs." She went on to say, "I'm trying to think of ways that we could pull this off in Highland Park where the majority of folks there would most likely perceive "clowning" as disruptive to their orderly neighborhood, but because we were not breaking any laws, could do nothing about it."
So we began to laugh and plan ways to become the Notorious Highland Park Clowns. Much of this scheme included driving our clown van slowly down the manicured neighborhood streets, looking for someone who needed some "happy", and cheering folks up with the squeak of our noses, the clown songs we would sing from our pink, VW, clown bus with the windows down and our colorful, synthetic, afros blowing in the breeze, and the way we would get out and run around our bus, chasing each other at stoplights while wearing our bright, polka dotted baggy clown suits.
Although many in "Fancyland" may initially complain that we are disruptive and an eyesore and strive to send the clowns packing, we never break any laws, and consequently cannot be touched. Our days of clowning continue happily in the pink VW bus as we bring some color to the HP, and eventually the pretty folks there begin to warm to us and perhaps even like us!
If this whole plot were a movie however, of course there would have to be one character who is always trying to thwart our clown antics. A fancy older lady perhaps, who is mortified to hear that her three handsome sons are falling in love with the three refreshingly unusual, clown girls. But in the end, after the fancy mom tries to throw water on us, but to her frustration, realizes that only makes witches, not clowns, melt, the clown love prevails. The three handsome sons marry the three delightful clowns in a lovely joint wedding planned by Jourdan. And in true clown fashion, the bridal bouquets were actually decoys for our super-soakers because everybody knows flowers that squirt water are hilarious :)
Oh, and the fancy mom finally comes to her senses after a heartfelt moment with the clowns, when we take off our makeup, wigs, and costumes and reveal our true identities. She realizes that, in the end, she and the clown girls are not so different after all. And she also, has a plastic nose - just not the red, clowny kind - but plastic nonetheless.
So if you are ever driving through Highland Park, be on the lookout for a pink, VW clown bus with three afroed gals stopping every so often to clown on folks. It just might be those Notorious Highland Park Clowns...
I mean, what if?
"A cheerful look brings joy to the heart..."