Hanging with the Clown

I was never one of those kids who was afraid of clowns. Apparently, that’s one of those genes that skips a generation. If anything, some of my earliest, happiest memories are of being at the circus, watching clowns frolic around. I’m sure some of them were miming golf swings, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some of them in plainclothes here at the Slice of Heaven 24-Hour Pie Shop and Driving Range.

Yes, I’ve always liked clowns, even though my true circus love was the human canonball, and I suppose I am still looking for someone like him. But can you imagine it? What would we talk about? Science, I guess. Alan Shepard. Lunar landers. Parabolas and projectiles. The distinct steak-like aroma of space. Heaven.

Ah, well. Perhaps that will happen some day. Meanwhile, I will be content to enjoy my growing friendship with The Clown whom I met at the Hollywood Halloween Party, along with Nurse Crotchett and The Morning Guy’s delightful, but somewhat dull, Stepford Girlfriend. They are, all three, pretty good golfers, but The Clown is the best. After all, she has to play with giant crazy clubs that waffle around, and her spiked shoes are enormous. Surely her feet cannot be that big.

Some of the other players tend to go home early when The Clown is on the range. They get distracted by her honking and little dances, but I just love them. I noticed that lately she has added a little Izod logo to her lovely striped outfit, and she has a very nice new tam o’ shanter on her head. Her golf bag matches her outfit, as it should, and best of all, there’s always room for everyone in her golf cart.

What could be better than that?

And did I mention, that when she does hit one of her over-sized golf balls, it really does fly?

Granted, we’ve had a lot of clowns come here to play golf before, but she’s the best. I just wish she weren’t quite so fond of whipped cream pies.