Last night, my folks and I took the girls to our local fairgrounds to see the visiting circus.
I've been to circuses big and small, from the spectacle of the Ringling Brothers and various Cirque de Soleil performace, to intimate Circus Vargas venues with mostly European acts.
Tonight's little circus rated a few "oh-how-sad" points below even Circus Vargas. Tent was big but in need of some patching. Sound system was decent. Three rings, no waiting.
Still, the performers seemed to be genuinely trying their best, most of which were doing things far from anything my old body could muster. I found myself clapping louder and cheering more to make up for the small crowds and lack of enthusiasm from the dozen or so that were sweating under the big top.
One thing I love about these small circuses is how the performers double as ticket takers, sno cone vendors, face painters, and animal handlers. It's like seeing Tom Cruise setting up a c-stand on a set.
The high heat and humidity in the 3-Ring tent didn't help spirits much. The humid conditions did make for some interesting viewing of my 5-year-old tackling a fluffly pink ball of cotton candy. The moist air was melting it faster than she could eat it. Still, she persevered and devoured the dyed sugar syrup and air with mucho gusto.
I usually try to support any circus that shows up in my area, even when I lived in So Cal. Perhaps it's the romantic traditions that these faithful few survivors of a bygone era of entertainment carry on, that brings me back for more.
Or maybe it's just the cotton candy.