This coming weekend the Zor Shrine Circus will be in town. The spectacle, which takes place at the Alliant Energy Center, promises tiger tricks, comical canines and aerialists who perform on "lengths of fabric hung high in the air." There will be synchronized motorcycle riding, performing camels and elephants, as well as Ivanov, "the crazy, cavorting clown."
I am also guessing there will be Shriners. And I can think of very little that is more entertaining than watching of a gaggle of grown men driving miniature fire trucks while sporting jaunty red fezzes.
From the sounds of things, one really could argue that the circus is "The Greatest Show on Earth" -- although that tagline belongs to the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey traveling show, which has no Wisconsin stop on its national tour. Not even in Baraboo, the enterprise's historic winter base and home of the Circus World Museum.
But I have no plans to take my kids to check out what's under the "Big Top" this year. Or any year, in fact. Because I really don't like the circus.
It may be because my cult film fanatic older brother introduced me to the 1932 horror movie "Freaks" at way too early of an age. Perhaps I am averse to the sensory overload that three simultaneous rings of trapezes, tightropewalkers, and human cannonballs can cause. And while I am absolutely fine with a little "guy liner" on an entertainer here and there, I find clown make-up and the men who wear it absolutely terrifying. I felt this way long before John Wayne Gacy and Stephen King's "IT'; Ronald is just one of many reasons I've never been a big fan of McDonald's.
I've never even taken the kids to see Cirque De Soleil when it's come through town at the Overture Center. I'm sure the Canadian performing arts extravaganza is every bit as breathtaking as I've been told. But I'm sorry, guys, you lost me at "Cirque."
Versions of this same parenting issue -- my children can't do it because I don't like it -- seem to creep up in other places in my life. My kids don't downhill ski because I have no interest in mastering a sports which requires balancing on long plastic feet and heading down a mountain (or I guess in Wisconsin, a large hill) as fast as possible. We don't take lake vacations because I'd rather head to a metropolitan area. And I've always felt a little guilty my kids didn't get to watch much Caillou when they were little; I am sure there were marvelous moral lessons to be learned from the PBS kids show. But there has always been something about that bald, sickly sweet Canadian cartoon kid that just completely weirds me out.
I know kids don't have an inalienable right to circuses, skiing or insipid television. But I do though feel kind of bad about depriving them of things that seem like amusement rites of passage just because they give their mother the heebie-jeebies.
How have you handled exposing your kids to events, activities and adventures that you have no interest in participating in? And perhaps more importantly, are there any clown lovers out there who want to take my kids to check out "Ivanov" this coming weekend? Because I'd rather be just about any place else -- even skiing. Although preferably not while watching Caillou.comments powered by Disqus
Is it just me or does each summer seem to go by quicker than the last? The end of summer is upon us and for many families this means the start of a new school year.
This past week, on the way to the grocery store, my daughter asked what I believed she thought would be a innocuous question, "Mom, when are we going back-to-school shopping?"
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This past week I gleefully accepted an offer for new job on the UW-Madison campus. My kids are getting are older and I guess I've felt for a while now that it was time to figure out what would be next for me on the professional front.
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All during childhood, we calmly tell our kids they don't need to be afraid of the dark, thunder or the monster under the bed. But it's pretty hard to keep your parental cool when your kid is about to embark on the one thing that terrifies you. I knew the problem wasn't really with him. It was with me.
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The first week of summer break at our place usually comes and goes without incident. At times, one could argue, it even verges on pleasant. I have no school lunches to pack and the kids have no 7 a.m. buses to catch.
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As soon as the door closed behind him, I poured myself a cup of the coffee he had made and took a moment to let the enormity of what just happened sink in. My son was ready that morning despite my inability to properly set an alarm clock. My kid was ready that morning without nudging, cajoling, or reminding. He was ready, even when I wasn't.
For the past 17 years or so (i.e., since I've had kids), I haven't made books the priority in my life I know they should be. It's not that I don't try. Just this past weekend I had the best of intentions of picking up, and even finishing, I am Malala, this year's UW-Madison's Go Big Read pick. But the copy still sits untouched on my nightstand.
The longest day of the year is upon us. For those of you keeping track, the sun will rise at 5:18 a.m. and set at 8:41 p.m. on Saturday, June 21. All that daylight, courtesy of the annual summer solstice, will provide the perfect backdrop for Make Music Madison, a daylong event featuring hours and hours of free performances in nearly every corner of the city.
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If you have aspiring authors in your house, this summer offers a fabulous opportunity for them refine their writing skills. For its second summer, the Greater Madison Writing Project, in partnership with Olbrich Botanical Gardens, is sponsoring two week-long camps in August for young writers entering grades 3-8.
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