You might shoot yourself if you spent every day with small, screaming children. No, strike that, I might shoot myself. I’d rather work with diseased farm animals than spend my days with spazzy kids and uptight parents.
Bozo the Clown? The dude loved his job and lived to be 83 years old.
I saw Bozo the Clown twice in my lifetime, which is amazing because it took eight years to get tickets for the second visit. (He was a popular guy in Chicago.) The first time was 1979, and I remember wearing a dress and throwing a temper tantrum (right in the middle of filming) when I wasn’t chosen to play Bozo Buckets.
It was righteous indignation, I tells ya! Even then, I knew that I was destined to be a media star.
We didn’t see Bozo again until 1987, and I was older but still excited about being on television. We had premium seats behind Bozo, and as he stood and spoke to the camera, my brother decided it would be H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S. to give Bozo the finger.
For reals. He flipped off the camera several times.
The show was taped to air at a later date and no one at WGN noticed the obscene gesture; however, my Mom noticed it. She has eagle eyes. When we sat down to watch the show at 7AM on its original air date, my mother — who is not a morning person — went APE SHIT.
Here’s my nine-year-old brother, in his Catholic school uniform shirt, giving the finger to the camera SEVERAL TIMES and laughing about it. (He. Was. Rolling.)
I’m not quite sure how my brother escaped this incident without being beaten to death, but he was forced to write a letter of apology to Bozo and the staff at WGN. It turns out that my mother never mailed the letter, and we found it about ten years ago in a pile of my Mom’s paperwork.
My poor mom. She never had a good Bozo experience of her own, and now the dude is dead. Viva Bozo!