Photographs of Janet’s parents visiting, July 1980, and of a United Action for Youth jam session led by Sonny, February 1980 ~

This was the last time I saw Janet’s parents, Warren and Irene Paige.  They came out to visit us in our new rental house on a farmstead three miles north of Tipton, Iowa.  Janet had a new internship in rural community development for her masters of social work.  Three weeks after these photographs Janet would tell me that she wanted out of our marriage so that she could pursue a relationship with her professor of marriage counseling, Craig Wunderlich. 

There are photos of my dog, Abner, the beagle.  I traded my childhood 20” Schwinn Tornado bicycle for the puppy.  He had a broken tail a few inches from its tip that pointed backwards when the tail was up.  It made him look like a bumper car.  His full name was Abner Mallity. 

Abner was a typical beagle puppy.  He chewed.  He barked.  He dug.  He was happy when you were happy.

Because Janet wanted out of the marriage I had no reason to remain in that farm house 20 miles from Iowa City and my graduate study of journalism.  I needed to move back to Iowa City and there was no way I could do it with a beagle puppy.  I was very unhappy to have to give him up.  I asked Janet to help since it was partly her concern too.

She found someone pretty quickly.  There was a clown in town.  Literally.  There was a circus that was going to be coming through in a month and this was its advance man.  He would talk with the service club (Lions? Rotary?) that was sponsoring the circus as a fund raiser about selling tickets and he would get out into the schools to drum up interest.  The clown, whose name I forget, was interested maybe in having a dog in his act.  He had had one before and was ready for another.  She set up a meeting.

Janet drove Abner and I out to Mechanicsville, Iowa, to meet the clown.  He was going to drive us back.  We met.  The clown was an affable guy in his early 30s.  He and another guy were traveling in a trailer from town to town.  I forget what other role the other guy had.  We chatted about the circus life.  It was a family act based out of Wisconsin.  Somebody brothers?  I forget.  The other guy was getting tired of being away from the general circus where his wife was.  The clown met with the locals and the other guy papered the town with posters.  The clown was impressed that I could juggle.  Balls.  Rings.  Pins, almost.  He said that he’d train Abner to be part of the act.  He liked Abner’s goofy look.  He said he’d work with what the dog was inclined to do naturally.  They seemed to be a good fit.  The clown was affectionate with Abner and Abner returned it. 

We went back to the trailer to drink beer and chat more about the circus.  The clown had gone to the Ringling Brothers’ clown academy.  He was gay.  He said that nearly every clown in every major circus was gay.  He wanted to know if I wanted a job.  I could go out on the road with the circus as the advance man.  I’d see a lot of the country.  I’d see a totally different side of reality.  It would be fun to tell everyone after they learned that Janet had dumped me that I had run off with the circus.

It was intriguing enough that we kept talking about it.  He kept drinking.  The other guy excused himself and went off to a different room in the trailer.  The clown asked me if I’d let him perform oral sex on me.  I said no.  He said that there was no anatomical difference between the mouth of a woman and of a man, and we would both enjoy the experience.  I said no.  I was not having sex with a mouth, I was having sex with a man and I wasn’t interested in having sex with a man.  I wondered whether I was unsafe.  I could leave the trailer, find somewhere to sleep, and find a way back to Iowa City.  The clown asked if I was sure.  I was sure.  He went to bed.

Early the next morning he drove me back to Iowa City without incident.  He told me that if I were gay, I could have any man I wanted.  I told him that I was not gay, and I could not have the woman I wanted, Janet.

He gave me a set of juggling pins.  He said that they were distinctively designed, that many clowns out on the circuit would recognize them as his.  A year later I fashioned two of them into hand-held rockets, to go with my Ronald Reagan costume in the Democrats’ entry to the homecoming parade.  I carried a sign, “Death Valley Days.”  The pins disappeared during the frequent moves of the next few years.

He called a week later, wanting to meet.  I told him that the relationship was going nowhere because we wanted different things.  I said we could meet on the steps of the Old Capital, a very public place, at 6:00 the next night.  He didn't show.

A month later he sent me a card.  I think I still have it somewhere.  He wanted me to know that he was always out there for me.