Because Misery Loves Company
Except for the beautiful Cirque Du Soleil, which isn't really one at all, I've always hated the circus--the clowns, the freaky carnies, the smell of elephant shit. Not for me. I'd rather stay home and clean out the guinea pigs' cage.
Once, when I was visiting various churches, trying to find one I could tolerate, I went to the Unity Church in Atlanta. It was in a huge contemporary building (cedar, high ceiling, lots of exposed wood) that reminded me of my friend Josie's house when we were growing up. Everything was going okay (in spite of the slobbery old man stationed on the front steps whose job it was to hug the newcomers), until about halfway through the service, when they decided to promote their upcoming carnival. A flock of clowns descended from the balcony--my idea of Hell on earth, and I was out of there. Really, I should be safe from clowns at church.
I felt the same way tonight when I saw a unicyclist on the bike trails. I felt violated. It might as well have been a mime or a juggler.