I recall going to the circus as a child. In retrospect, I realize that it’s simply a miniaturized version of life. However glamorous, fantastic, or magical its spell, it’s life as you and I know it. Yes, there were those angry ones whose freedom had been caged, along with others of their kind who had acquiesced and reluctantly responded to the crack of the whip in exchange for a hunk of meat.

In contrast to the humorous clowns, there were exotic dancers who wanted to reveal more for a price. Down the way was a man who made his living by betting I couldn’t hit his targets, which were designed in his favor. Then there were the high-flying ones in their catch-as-catch-can game, who finally had to “come down to earth.” Of great interest were the dogs who did their thing with contagious joy and enthusiasm. On every side were enticing things, causing one to lose one’s way, and so many things going on at once that one could scarcely take them in. Finally, there were a host of relaxed ones who said in effect that it really wasn’t all that bad and that we might as well “Laugh, clown, laugh.” And, I did.