People who know me come in through our attached garage, rap hard on the door and wait for me to yell, “C’mon in!”
Recently the person who came in was a clown.
He lives on Big Fish Lake, near Ortonville. That’s the same lake son Jim and his wife Linda live on. Everybody knows everybody on that lake.
Linda had called to tell me she and a couple of girl friends were visitin at 10 Sunday morning and she had a surprise for me.
The knock on the door came at 10, and following my call, Pero walked in, in full clown regalia: tall black hat, multiple patches of multiple colors on his jacket, pants and shirt.
His hair was long and orange; his elephant size black shoes were on the wrong feet, and his nose rosy red and bulbuous.
His make up was of rosy red cheeks, large black eyebrows and he was carrying a small bag. His pants were way oversized.
I asked him to sit, and he did. He looked around my room and asked, ‘Maybe I’m at the wrong address.?
I gave him my address, ‘thirteeen something,? He said maybe it’s 14?”
Then I pointed to our my fireplace adorned with 19 stuffed clowns. Then the girls came in.
But, I want to tell you about my clowns. Brother-in-law Ronald Smith was into garage sales some years ago. He decided I needed some clowns in my house and he kept bringing them, plus adding some that weren’t stuffed. Love ’em all.
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Back to my visiting clown. He was on his way to the Shriners meeting near Detroit. He told me his name was Pero. He did one of his tricks, but loused it up, probably on purpose, putting a red bandana in his small sack, and after a couple tries, pulling out a blue bandana.
I think he was just “clowning around” on the first draw, because the blue bandana was pulled from the sack as he left my house.