u/MihkaelFournier

They get to eat what bugs them.

(Twang humor.)

(More tales coming soon.)

Happy Mother's Day!

(Photo: Ladybug and Ting)

Ting the Caribbean Clown

Happy Mother's Day!

Circa 2011? 2012?

(I'm missing because I took the photo.)

Something tells me I should maybe separate the photos from the stories, so all of this is just a little less confusing. So... here's a photo without a story.

Is a picture really worth 1,000 words?

​

After doing rounds one day, we decided to treat ourselves to a nice white mocha at a Starbucks where a friend of ours, Lori, worked evenings. She hadn’t seen us in clown yet, so this was to be a surprise visit.

Quietly, we walked in to see her wiping down the back line. Without saying anything, we stood in the lobby watching as Lori and her co-worker (who was in the middle of cleaning the cappuccino machine) scrub away. Suddenly, her co-worker caught us out of the corner of her eye.

The look on her face was priceless! She spun around and shouted back to Lori, “You have GOT to see these two clowns that just walked in!”

“Oh my God! You can’t say that about the customers!” Lori scolded her co-worker, her back still to us.

“But, she’s right! We are clowns!” Twang exclaimed, still in character.

Somehow, I don’t think that was the response Lori was expecting by the way she 180’d. She damn near jumped right out of her own skin when she saw us.

Oh, it took Twang and I a good while to stop laughing over that one. I thought we were going to pass out from the lack of oxygen. I mean, we lost all sound halfway through. We just couldn’t breathe!

Sometimes, it’s just the little things…

(Photo: Twang)

We were still in our first few months of clowning when we were invited to do rounds at an ALF (Assisted Living Facility) in their “Bite Ward.” This, of course, meant we had to do a bit of prep beforehand. As most of us were still Joeys at the time, that meant “restraint training,’ just in case one of the patients turned violent on us., We had to learn how to protect ourselves without injuring that patient. And, as the name “Bite Ward” suggests, there was a high likelihood that we would have to use this training at some point in our future. Dementia is unpredictable by nature.

Unfortunately, that training only covered what to do if they became unruly. No one gave us instructions on what to do if they became flirtatious.

Five out of our Alley went that day, including my mother (Ting), my wife (Twang), and myself. Our little group had clowned a few times together by then, so we were familiar with everyone else’s routines. We were booked for about an hour (which usually meant we’d be there for an hour and a half, because… you know, we’re clowns). But, nothing that day would go as planned. Once those double doors with the digital lock box closed behind us, all our plans went out through the vents. (It’s a Bite Ward. There weren’t any windows,)

As soon as the patients saw a small, assorted collection of clowns come in, they dropped everything and flocked towards us like seagulls spotting a kid with french fries.

Within seconds, we were separated. I was cornered right away by a few… let’s say, elderly women who had the damnedest time keeping their hands to themselves. But, it wasn’t long before I was rescued by Ting and Twang. You know, once they finished laughing.

It took a spell for things to calm down enough, but as soon as it did, we started to make our rounds. That’s when I met Nina, a former thespian from Europe, and quite the star in her day.

Nina spoke something like twelve languages. English was just one of them - and it wasn’t her native tongue. However, she spoke it with the fluency of a porn star. Similar vocabulary as well.

When Nina became excited, she would switch languages on us, expecting us to understand what she had said. The nurse following us around had to keep reminding her, “English, Nina. English.” We heard that phrase every five minutes or so.

When it came time to move on to the next patient, Nina tried to block the door to prevent me from leaving. I had to be rescued again.

At the end of our time, we all gathered for a group photo with the patients and staff. That was like a game of musical chairs, quite honestly. And, I was the first one without a seat. Sadly, this didn’t mean that I was left out of the photo. No. Of course not. This meant that there was only one place for me to go… and that was kneeling front and center, with Nina right behind me.

Slowly, I walked to my mark and began to bend down to make sure Nina could be seen in the shot. That’s when things went south… and, by “thing,” I mean Nina’s fingers.

It was a Joey mistake, for sure. I should have known better to put my butt anywhere within reach of a woman with the strong urge to pinch it. And, damn! What a grip!

But, the photo came out great. I was captured jumping up in the air with the biggest look of surprise on my face, Nina with an ear-to-ear grin, and everyone else around us laughing. From what I was told later, they framed it. It’s hanging on the wall right outside Nina’s room.

I had that bruise for a week.

(Photo: Ting & Twang)

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name's Mojo. Mojo the Wayward Magician. I was a volunteer with Hospice for a few years as a Caring Clown. Those days are long gone now, but the clown in me lives on.

If you'd like, I'd love to regale you all with some tales of my adventures with clowning, both from the days of old and from the pages we are still writing. I'll even throw in a sing-a-long or two.

Who would like to take a walk down Memory Lane with me? I might even buy you an ice cream cone when it's all done.