Why I Hate Evil Clowns

DJ Myke is feeling nostalgic about birthdays in Memphis, so sit back and enjoy the honesty.

Back when we were growing up on Lynn Rd. in Memphis, birthdays were a big deal. You have to understand that we lived in a really tight suburb. Dozens of houses squeezed together meant dozens of neighborhood kids. Therefore, a public birthday party or gathering was definitely a highlight.

For some reason I never understood, my parents thought that birthday number thirteen was the big one, so I was afforded anything my little heart desired. Much to their dismay, I chose watermelons. But, that is not the gist of this story. This is about three years later, when it was my brother's turn at the then lucky number thirteen. He did Mom and Dad proud by asking to have a clown. Dad knew of a guy from a friend at work. Phone calls were made and the deal was set. My brother would have his clown on his birthday, which was June 15.

You know, back then the thought of getting references for a clown were simply not a priority, so it really should not have come as such a great surprise when Mr. Clown showed up under the influence of what had to be alcahol on June 14, by mistake. I had just turned the corner of our house as he was knocking on the door. When the door opened, it was by our younger female cousin who was staying with us for a week. She lived in the country, and I guess no one informed her that we were to have such a distinguished guest on the following day. She came face to face with her very first bona fide evil clown, and the whole neighborhood heard it.

She hit such a high shrill note that at least a dozen dogs were in full bark before she ended it. It was at this point that Mr. Clown's adrenaline must have overcome the barley and hops. He spun on a dime and proceed to run for the hills.... He did not make it. It seems that when Dad poured concrete the previous Summer, that the water hydrant had to have a new home, so, unfortunately for Mr. Clown, it was in the front yard, about two and half clown foot steps from his fleeing point... He should had jumped. He straddled the water hydrant. I don't know how much he felt it when it happened, but I am reasonably confident that he felt it for days after.

It was an ugly scene. She had learned to breathe again and was now giving us all a serenade, as was he. This guy was centered on this hydrant, and trying to push off, but all he manage to do was spin around, which we all know is a fairly reliable way to turn on a water faucet. In a matter of seconds his big clown suit began to fill with water. He became a veritable birhthday balloon. Eventually his weight and the weight of the water became to much for the primitive pipe, and it bowed enough for him to make to a all fours, and off he crawled. I don't know if he was embarassed or angry but he was saying things very unbecoming of a clown. However, his rage quickly rescinded as the results of having torn his clown suspenders from his clown pants became evident. He was now upright attempting to run, while his clown pants were still down at crawling height. I must tell you at this point that clowns do not have special clown underwear. Uhnnn...

Well, he escaped with his life, if not his dignity. I heard later that when he turned the corner that Tom, who drove the ice cream mobile tried to run him down in the street. I don't know if this was to protect the children or if Mr. Clown was perceived as competition and this was an act of turf war. I did not see it, so I cannot verify...

The next day the party was sort of anticlimactic. My brother was mad because he had been cheated out of his clown, my cousin went back home that morning, and in all the duress, Mom forgot all about the cake.

Those watermelons were the best ever......


Posted by DJ Myke


Feel free to visit DJ Myke at MySpace and subscribe to his blog.




The Time Machine



Thursday, September 28, 2006 at 9:10 PM

I remember Bob Costas had Julie Brown as a guest on his old late night show after Letterman on NBC. Julie was talking about a flick called "The Attack of The Killer Clowns". Bob stated how he hated clowns and added that his sister was a professional clown. Something I've always remembered and never got to share until now. Thanks for sharing your story.