Straws are no longer a necessary solution

While applying his makeup, the Husband asked Kid 2 to bring him some Sprite.

Kid 2 played a running away sound effect while I asked the Husband if he'd like a straw. We do have reuseable ones that I use in my water bottle. I haven't even considered packing them yet.

He said no.

I had a mild brain fart. The man is in clown and presumably would prefer to stay in clown because we're not leaving to do the party yet. Before parties when clown make-up has to remain pristine, straws are among the preferred thirst solutions.

"Because we do have straws," I remarked.

"No," responded the Husband. "I trust my make-up."

Would that we all had such confidence in our skills.

Clowns should always look this good.

Clouds, Clowns, & Light

Gig today.

I'd recently moved the lens from my original SLR camera to the DSLR. For some reason, it never occurred to me to just use the more awesome lens I already had when I got that camera in 2007. Luckily, 14 years later, inspiration (finally) struck and I could now play with the macro function without having to figure out where film is still being sold.

All day, I'd been telling The Husband how I wanted to take a portrait of him in clown. I hadn't taken a picture of him in clown without a smartphone in a long time. I really wanted a clown photo made up of many, many pixels.

Finally, 10 minutes before we have to leave, everything is ready, I can take my photo. The light is PERFECT. I'd be able to get all the colors right even with all the high contrasts of light and dark. We go outside. I order tell politely request that the Husband stand in a counterintuitive way on the steps. He immediately follows directions. (The Husband gets his picture taken all the time when he's in clown. He knows to mind at a moment's notice for a photo).

I put up the camera. I fix the settings on the lens so we can go macro. I am super excited. I open the aperture up wide and then...this happens.

I know. I know. 😳. I KNOW. This photo is so okay I could have taken it with a point and shoot camera. I've taken better pictures with my smartphone. Shoot, I've taken better pictures with obsolete smartphones.

Anyways, what happened is that upon snapping the shutter closed, a cloud had the audacity to pass just in front of the sun to ruin my perfect lighting. I looked at the microscopic image on the LCD screen in horror. "There's a cloud!" I howled.

My parents had just arrived to watch Kid 1 and Kid 2. They got to hear me howl. Both my parents and the Husband all hesitated in unison. (Did you know that people can hesitate all together? Because people can hesitate all together. It's an interesting phenomenon to witness). Before any of them could move on from hesitation I whirled around, glared up at the sky, and I gave it what for. Then, I made all three humans freeze and wait a few moments. I would have my clown portrait in good lighting, gosh darn it.

Clearly, my powers of persuasion were on point because the cloud then chose to move on. I moved fast. The Husband was still. I got my picture. 

Behold:

 Then I flew to put my camera away. We had an ornery 3 year old to entertain.

But that's another blog post.

Cheers!

Animating a Clown

 With the pandemic, we've done a few prerecorded virtual shows. For the latest one that I am editing, I thought it would be cool to end it with an animated version of the Husband's logo. I thought it would make a more interesting finale that just a still photo. Theoretically, I knew that it would have to be created like it was a flip book, but in a digital fashion. I had made a bouncing circle flip book early on in the pandemic, so I figured I could learn how to do it digitally without too much difficulty.

Where does this pandemic teacher go when she needs to learn a new digital skill? YouTube.

I found numerous examples of how to go about creating an animation with an iPad, laptop, or both. The best one I found demonstrates how to create an animation using the apps that Apple already includes on iPads and Macs. Since I just wanted it to be a final clip at the end of the virtual clown show, it was a bonus to learn how to turn it into an overlay. With this tutorial, I learned how to use the green screen effect in iMovie. This thrilled me because it means I won't have to pay for an extra app whenever I finally figure out how to light a green background evenly. I could also record a video of the Husband, adding a cartoon on top of it later on. All I'd have to change would be giving the animation a green background. There are a lot of possibilities!

For this project though, all I needed was a short clip to put at the end of the show. It took me a few tries to get the animation to export from Keynote the way I wanted it to. First, I exported it as a gif. The quality of the picture wasn't very good after I transferred the file to my laptop. Next, I exported it as a movie. This time it was better, but not quite what I wanted because the file was so large. Finally, I realized that I could choose the size of the gif file when I export it. The first time, I had just gone with the size that was automatically chosen. So I exported the file as a gif again, but this time I chose a much larger file size.

Here's what I ended up with:

Pretty fun, right? When I added the gif as a clip to the end of the movie, I adjusted the speed of the gif so that it runs almost twice as fast. With that extra speed, the ball falls into his hand much more gracefully than it does as shown above.

What other types of animation ideas do you guys have for clowning? I want to make another one, but I can't settle on an idea.

Cheers!

The Tragic Tale of the Mango Chile Ice Floes

 So, you've probably noticed that there was a 7 year gap between blog posts. What can I say? The Husband was booking tons of parties. I have a full time job. I got my master's degree. We had Kid 2. I guess I was a little bit busy.

I decided to take a trip down memory lane and see what I was writing about back then. It was kind of fun because there were some things that I hadn't thought about in forever, such as the Kazoo post. There were other posts that I do not remember happening at ALL. Reading Naked cracked me up! I have that feeling in me like I should remember that event, but I honestly do not. I'm really glad I had written it down.

Meanwhile, I come across a draft entitled, "The Tragic Tale of the Mango Chile Ice Floes."

*pause*

That's it. There's nothing in the draft. It was 7+ years ago. I have no idea. My best guess is that it involved popsicles. It could also have been about Chilean mountain glaciers preserving mangos for millennia, but somehow that doesn't seem realistic. I mean, the Andes mountains probably aren't the best climate for mangos, am I right?

*crickets chirp*

Suddenly, amidst that crazy stream of consciousness, I came to a realization. The Tragic Tale part of the title IS THE STORY. The tragic tale of the mango chile ice floes is that the actual tale has been tragically lost to posterity, with no hope for recovery. The story is the blank page sitting underneath an amazing title that will never be written.

Too much of a reach?

Cheers, y'all!

Yeah, how you know?

 This afternoon The Husband hangs up the phone. He'd clearly just been booking a gig of some kind. "What is Mansipation?"

Me: What?

Husband: Mansipation when the slaves got freed?

Me: You mean emancipation?

Husband: Yeah. What is that?

Me: Like liberty for the slaves.

Husband: Yeah that. I just got a call for this weekend to celebrate-

Me: JUNETEENTH?!

Husband: Yeah, how you know?

Me: Because it's June. Juneteenth is when the last slaves in the South were freed in Texas. It was a few years later and the slaveowners had refused to tell them they were free so the Union army had to go in to liberate them.

Husband: Yeah, yeah. That's it! So this weekend is an event at some street, 18th and-

Me: VINE?! 18th and Vine?

Husband (shocked expression): Yeah, how you know? It's a parade. There is a jazz mus-

Me: The Jazz Museum? The museums at 18th and Vine?

Husband: Yeah, how you know? There's also a Ne-

Me: The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and the Jazz Museum?!

Husband (astonished): Yeah, how you know?

Me (gushing): You're working at the Juneteenth event by the museums at 18th and Vine!!!!! That is so cool! 

Husband: Yeah, how you know?

Me: I grew up in Kansas City.

******************************************

I cannot believe I've never talked to him about these places. It's amazing what kinds of knowledge about your home you take for granted. The Husband has lived here so long that it's easy for me to forget about him being an immigrant that wouldn't know all those nuggets of Kansas City history. I'm also white so it's easier for me to overlook teaching him about Kansas City's Black history. I clearly need to do better. I mean I saw Buck O'Neil speak TWICE growing up. He was so cool! I'll never forget how he talked about not getting the job with the Cubs because he didn't have "that piece of paper." I loved his word choice. It was an excellent way to describe a diploma. It does seem like just a piece of paper sometimes, but it's a piece of paper with power. 

I'm off now. I have to go teach my kids about these things as well and they don't read my blog.

#KnowBetterDoBetter

Rats, Cats, and Bra Money

 "What? You guys did a party? There's a pandemic, did you know?"

The Husband is fully vaccinated. I am fully vaccinated. The Elder Son has had 1 dose. The kids stay with folks that are already in our circle. We carry sanitizer. We book outdoor parties. I wear a mask. The Husband wears a face shield. I'd prefer he wear a mask, but there's something about being a clown that requires makeup visibility. Ho hum.

Now that the snarky comment prevention has been done, we can get to the good part of the post! Our first party of 2021!

Location: Duplex home backyard. We've been there twice before to celebrate. To remind me which family it is, The Husband always says, "the Bra Money Party." There are some things that are unforgettable. One of those things is being paid cash straight from a sweaty bra in May. In Bra Money Mom's defense, it appears to have been a one time gaffe.

Plot Twist: weather forecast of heavy rain.

We arrive. After The Husband has dropped me and all our changarro off (parking spots were few), I proceed to find Bra Money Mom to ask which of the duplexes to set up in as it hasn't quite begun to rain and all attendees are still outside hanging out.

And I paraphrase:

Bra Money Mom: Inside? Do you really think that's necessary?

Me: It's your party. We'll do what you want. *pulls up weather app on phone*

Me: Ma'am? In 15 minutes, it's going to be pouring rain. I think you're going to want to move inside.

**************** 15 minutes later **********************

All set up, in a room with a scent implying a lack of hygiene, we begin. It's raining cats and dogs.

****************************************************

During balloons, I'm usually keeping one eye on my playlist while familiarizing myself with where we've stashed prizes, props, and tricks. I hear the song is ending so I leave the prizes to check which song is coming to make sure it works with the party's mood. As I step behind my table, a small, gray critter streaks out from under the tablecloth.

My brain immediately thinks of rats. Thankfully, I hold myself together. No one knows I'm FREAKING OUT, except for me. I am fully aware of the adrenaline situation I find myself in. I take a second look as the creature flees. It's a kitten. A very young, very gray, very rat-sized kitten.

Later, when we're packing up to leave I discover there is a full litter box under the cabinet next to where we had set up our table. Hence the smell; hence the rat cat.

It's always something at this home and I love it. It was such a fun party.

My Epitaph

I am amazing with bananas. No matter how little a stem our school district's food service leaves upon the bananas, I can still open them with my bare hands and without dirtying my fingernails. The first time I showed the 2nd and 3rd graders (I'm their Lunch Supervisor) how to accomplish this feat with an otherwise unyielding banana last year, I was awarded with the spontaneous applause of all 120 of them. I have since been known as the Fruit Ninja. Needless to say, this is among my proudest accomplishments. As I just opened a banana for the Son, I told the Husband how much I would like to have that on my tombstone. Yes, it will bewilder many a future genealogist, but what a great story for them to stumble upon! The Wife, Fruit Ninja of the Midwest! The Husband thinks I'm joking, but I am not. This expenditure is totally worth it because I will become a family LEGEND. My tombstone shall read, "The Wife, Amazing Wife, Mother, Teacher, & Fruit Ninja of the Midwest. Birthdate-Deathdate." Seriously, people. This shall be my legacy!

I may be making a How To Be a Fruit Ninja video on YouTube. Stay tuned.

$142!!!!

The school where I teach is an inner city school comprised of children whose families originally came from Mexico. As a shout out to the majority of our kids' heritage, the parent group at our school has a huge fundraiser in celebration of Mexican Independence Day. It's always a really fun event. Last year as well as this year my husband sold balloons (all proceeds going to the school of course!).  This year I kept all the tickets (see the picture below) so we could see exact numbers. He sold 142 balloons in under 2 hours!

Now let's hope all the people I had to turn away because the event was ending don't take it too hard. Let's also hope all the people I caught cutting in line and sent to the end also don't take it too hard. Clowning is a rough business and sometimes you need the Wife to stand up to overzealous customers. Now I'm off to make a "I'm the last person in line!" sign. (Although I've heard those don't always work. Sometimes people just keep handing it back to the next person to arrive at the line.)

Klutzy

I woke the Son up when I fell down the stairs (I fell LOUDly). He is back to bed and I do believe I only have rug burns, but it's hard to tell since I took an ibuprofen right away. When the Husband came home from the clown alley meeting, I told him what happened. His response, "Again?"
And people wonder why I don't even bother to learn how to do spinning plates...

Obsessions

I know a LOT about clowns now. I know different types of balloon twists. I can even tell you about the different styles of makeup. But does the Husband even know J.K. Rowling's name? No! What is wrong with this man? He is not a reader; I get that. He didn't grow up learning to love to read like I did. He never has and probably never will read Harry Potter. I'm not asking him to. What I am asking is that he know as much about my obsessions as I know about his because when I text him with "J.K. Rowling ghostwrote something!", he should not have to call me up and have me explain (he is however, allowed to not understand the word "ghostwrote" considering English is not his first language).

However, the Harry Potter movies are what will keep us together. (Thank you Warner Brothers). Happiness is when despite your husband's lack of J.K. Rowling name recognition, he still knows what a Golden Snitch is when you show him a picture of one. (Does he know what it's called? No, but he knows what it is.)

Egg Layers and Clown Tricks

The Husband asks the Son if he's (the Son) is wearing a diaper or underpants. "¡Calzón, Papá!" (Yeah, he's potty trained!)
Next thing I hear is a slap of elastic. The Husband exclaims, "Hiciste un huevo!" (You laid an egg!) Pitter patter. (I'm picking my battles. Sometimes making the Son wear socks just isn't worth it.)
"Mommy, Mommy!" The Son holds out a wooden egg. "This was inside of me and then it came out!"
Great. Now the Husband's clowning around has caused my child to think he's like a chicken. The Husband and the Son are now having a weird conversation about how that was a trick. I actually think the Son knew all along and was trying to mess with my head...

Transformers

The Son's been getting really into superheroes lately. During the previews for Captain America (yes I did too prep him for the scary parts!!!), there's an ad for the Transformers movie. He turns to me and asks, "Do you know how to say 'Transformers' in Papá's language?" Being naturally curious, I respond with, "No, how do you say 'transformer' in Papá's language?"
He looks at me very seriously and says "Transfoahma."

Anti Monkey Butt

Ever been to a clown alley white elephant gift exchange? If not, join a clown alley JUST SO YOU CAN GO TO THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. In this post, I'll only be talking about one of the clown alley's gift exchanges. I will tell about the other one in a later post.
This Clown Alley (we'll call it Alley Z) has particularly complex rules for the gift exchange, eg gifts can be stolen a maximum of twice, first person also goes last (I don't even know how to explain how the order of gift opening went down. It was insane!) Slowpoke brought a fake gift and a real gift that he let you exchange if you felt it necessary (he neglected to inform us about the false bottom filled with dollar bills in the fake gift before it was exchanged). Another person brought, among other things, Anti Monkey Butt. Check it out!

Wally is a Punny Clown

At a clown alley meeting this week, Wally brought his brain prop with him and was messing around. I was cracking up!

Holy Miscommunication Batman!

We have just arrived at a party. "Why is that clown so early, Mom?", I overhear. We're maybe 10 minutes early. That gives us set-up time. The Husband asks the family where he should set up; dad shows us where and the Husband shows the birthday boy that his red nose isn't real so he stops crying.
Then mom comes out. "What's your name?"
"The Husband."
"What about (insert Mexican friend clown name here)?"
"I'm his substitute," the Husband replies.
"What are you talking about?" she asks.
"He called me on Thursday. He said he needed me to do this party for him because he couldn't do it, he had talked to you about me coming in his stead." This is standard procedure for us. We've done this at least 3 times.
Apparently the Husband's buddy did NOT tell them someone else was coming. We'll see what happens.

Update: I have no memory of what happened.

Kazoo

The Husband is rearranging his trunk of clown equipment (stuffing in the prizes!) when the Son picks the bright red kazoo off the floor. He sticks it in his mouth and proceeds to be the musical prodigy that he is (WHO YOU CALLIN' BIASED?!). The Husband is completely astonished. "He can work that kazoo!"
"Why, can't you?" I ask.
"NO!" the Husband exclaims.
Holding in giggles, I request to try the kazoo. The Son promptly hands it to me and I try it out. It works fine.
"Try blowing in a different way," I suggest.
The second attempt is not fruitful. The Husband laughs and says, "I can't do it!"
We all laugh together. The man who can make Buzz Lightyear out of balloons is incapable of playing the kazoo.

Ringling Bros 2012

We went to the circus last night with one of the Husband's clown alleys. The Husband loved the clowns, the Son loved the horses and elephants, and I loved the clash between Bonkers and the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist. Yes, those are 2 of the clowns who came with us and no Bonkers isn't actually bonkers...but yes Crazy Conspiracy Theorist actually is a crazy conspiracy theorist.
At intermission, Bonkers bought a pastel latex clown wig to please his daughter. Of course, he put it on his head and started babbling about how cool it is that he finally has hair again (he's a bald clown, how could he resist that line?). The Crazy Conspiracy Theorist from 4 rows behind him, stands up, marches down the stairs, bends down to him and says in an urgent low voice, "Bonkers, you take that silly thing off you right now!"
Bonkers shrugs and turns to talk to his daughter. Then he turns around to ask me, "Is it me?" After I had assured him that he looked fabulous, Bonkers continued to play around with his daughter talking up how great he looks in pink and having a good time. Suddenly I hear the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist say, "Bonkers. I do not know you." I look at the Husband trying not to snicker at the irony of the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist being embarrassed about being seen in the presence of Bonkers. The Husband grins at me when all of a sudden, Bonkers stands up and turns around. He puts on an extremely winning grin, waves as enthusiastically as possible and shouts, "HI CRAZY CONSPIRACY THEORIST! It's nice to see you here!"
Awesome.

Quantity of a certain beverage makes an impression.

This is never what I want to see when I walk into an elementary kid's party. We just got here, so it's too early to tell, but pray for happy drunks! (One day I'll tell the story of the mean drunk...)

Decisions, Decisions

The Son is 3; he's in a highly impressionable age group. The Husband's at a magician's conference. He wants us to come see the final magic show.
"So what?" you're probably thinking. I'd be thinking that too, except it's a conference of Christian magicians who use magic to promote the gospel. The magic's so cool and good that it gets any kid's attention and mine will probably start believing whatever it is they tell him. For most people who live in our area, there's still no problem; yet for me, there is. The Son and I are Unitarian Universalists and I do NOT approve of theology being presented to him as an absolute truth. (The Husband and I have been married 9 years and I still don't know what his religious beliefs are, but then I don't think he does either.)
I'd like to go-there's good magic and really nice people there. I'm just trying to figure out if there's a way to prepare the Son for the magic show so he doesn't get indoctrinated.

Naked

It's the Husband's birthday. We're at a taqueria. The Son is having a good time eating a gordita and making faces like those of the actors in the novelas on the TV. Suddenly, I notice the Husband's gripping at nothing. I give him a funny look. "I don't have any magic tricks," he says.
"In your pockets?" I inquire.
"No, in my HANDS...I don't feel right without them."
I make a confused grunt.
"I don't have any magic tricks in my hands to mess around with."
"You mean, by not having magic tricks to obsessively play with you feel like you're walking around without any clothes on?"
"Yeah, that's right," he replies.
I just shake my head. Never try to get inside a clown's head.