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The Rodeo Clown Reunion is
held every other year. I
am the Chairman of the event and I take this responsibility
very seriously. I
just held my eighth
Reunion
at Pendleton Round Up. I
have the ‘business’ end of the
Reunion
down ‘pat’. HOWEVER,
the minute the event starts I seem to lose control . . . . . .
. . it’s like trying to herd cats.
One example is an incident that happened at the end of
the
Reunion
. Thirteen of the
honorees had flown in on commercial airlines to the airport at
Pasco
,
Washington
, an hour and a half away from Pendleton.
Four of the members of our
Reunion
had very early morning flight times;
6 AM, 6:30 AM
and
7 AM
on their return home
Sunday morning, after the close of the event.
With airline requirements that they arrive in ample
time to go through ‘intense scutiny’ prior to boarding I
decided I should take them to
Pasco
. I really
didn’t want to ask anyone to get up in the wee hours to do
this chore. The
night before I made arrangements with the four for a
3:45 AM
departure from our host hotel, Wildhorse Resort and Casino.
I went to bed early that night, anticipating a
3 AM
wake-up call. I
woke up, sometime in the middle of the night, looked at the
digital clock on the table by the bed and saw “
2:57
”. Aha!
I would beat the wake up call. I
got up, got dressed, brushed my teeth, put on my contact lens.
I then went back to my bed to put on my shoes.
I looked at the clock again, and it read “
1:07
”. I then
realized I had not seen the correct time “
12:57
” on my first glance and here I was all ready to go, TWO
HOURS EARLY.
I took out my contact lens, and did go back to sleep,
fully dressed. At
three o’clock
my wake-up call came. I
was dressed, teeth brushed, so I was ‘ahead of the game’.
I heard one of my riders in the lobby and told him to
stay put while I drove my Suburban to the back door of the
hotel, nearer the rooms of my other riders who were in need of
special attention. One
used a cane to walk, another just coming off chemotherapy was
having trouble breathing.
I arrived at the first senior-funnyman’s room, he was
dressed and ready to go. He
carries his black and brown
Chihuahua
, Buckaroo, inside
his shirt, and during the Reunion Buckaroo wears make-up, dons
a tiny cowboy hat and sports chaps.
Buckaroo was dressed, too.
The luggage was right at the door.
I reached for it to carry it to the car for him.
It was a dated suitcase, much like the owner.
I tried to lift it, it would not budge.
What was in the darn thing – weights?
His roommate offered to carry it to the car for him,
thank goodness. Meanwhile
I directed him to the car, telling him to sit in the second
seat of my Suburban, and I’d be right back.
I proceeded down the hall to the next couple’s room.
The wife was struggling to put three large baggies full
of medicine in an ‘all ready full’ bag.
I took over and managed to store it around the edges.
I looked around the room and saw another bag completely
full, with more to be packed..
I grabbed one suitcase, the retired rodeo clown who had
just finished chemo grabbed the other, he yelled at his wife,
“Come on!” and we hurried down the hall.
When we arrived at my car, sitting outside the back
door at
3:30 AM
, I had expected
the other clown and Buckaroo, to be sitting in the back seat
waiting for us. Instead
I found an unattended vehicle.
The rear hatch was wide open, as was the driver’s
door, my purse full of money sat on the floor board in plain
sight, and the back door was open, but no clown!
I yelled in to the night air – “Hey,
Anyone here? Hello?
Where did you go?” No
response.
We loaded the suitcases.
I got the couple in to the rear seat of the Suburban
and we drove around to the front of the hotel.
The’lost’ former arena cowboy-savers were leisurely
getting coffee from an urn in the lobby.
We loaded Buckaroo and his ‘bad boy’ owner, plua
the last clown who patiently waited in the lobby chattering
non-stop with the gals at the desk and we were on our way.
Herding cats couldn’t be any harder than getting
these retired rodeo clowns loaded.
The
4 AM
night sky was pitch black in northeastern
Oregon
. Not a star
twinkled at us as we zipped along the Interstate.
About ten miles from Pendleton the wife, from the back
seat, said, “Gail, I can’t find my purse.”
My heart sank. I
just knew it had been left in their room amidst the piles
needing to be packed. I
slowed down and pulled off on the shoulder of the Interstate.
We turned on all the interior lights.
They looked in and under their seats.
Finally the purse was FOUND under Buckaroo’s
traveling case. Thank
God! Had we been
forced to go back to the hotel someone would have missed their
flight.
The rest of the trip was filled with talk of memories
shared and stories from the past, in and out of the arena.
Buckaroo and I just listened.
How very special it is to hear these fearless funnymen
tell of their days in the arena.
Those days are long gone, and as they often say, “It
ain’t what it used to be!”
We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, much to my
amazement, unloaded
the luggage, and said our goodbyes.
I headed back to Pendleton, arriving just as the
sun was peaking over the horizon.
Mission
Accomplished.
My job as chairman always has some interesting aspects
to it. I love
every minute and every challenge that is handed to me. That
doesn’t mean I don’t wake up in the middle of the night
and worry about one of them, or something they are suppose to
do. But don’t
misunderstand I wouldn’t
give up my job as chairman or want it any other way.
These retired laugh-getters and cowboy-savers,
are a special breed. They
see humor in things when no one else can.
They invent comedy just by being themselves.
My rewards are tenfold when I see these characters, in
their unforgettable make-up and costumes, interacting with
their fans and kibbitzing with the spectators.
What they add to a rodeo is so unique and special I
don’t have words to describe it.
When they disappear at
3 AM
and are no where to be found I’m not surprised, after all
they are a bunch of rodeo clowns!
The
Rodeo Clown got great
coverage from The Oregonain. Click on title
to read articles.
Fearless funnymen recall their clowning
glories
Meet more clowns
Audio
interview with A.O. “Monk” Carden
Rodeo Clown from reunion.
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