I have a number of good friends who are now or have been at one time professional clowns. I’ve spent a good deal of time the last several years traveling and hanging out with some amazingly funny people. In the past I’ve lived with clowns, worked with clowns, consulted with clowns, written about… you get the idea. In fact, had the world gone a little differently, I might have ended up one myself. I’ve certainly been offered the opportunity.
Needless to say, I have a deep love, admiration and respect for the artform. Thankfully, I’m not the only one and a few years ago, David Carlyon wrote a great piece for the Smithsonian Folklife Festival called American Clowns: Performance, History, and Cliché, which looks at all those different factors in the world of clowning.
Well, this week, Monki and I turned a collective 57 (or, on average, 28 1/2 each). Personally, I think get the better side of that since in reality I’ve just turned 53 (Holy shit that’s a big number) and she’s just turned 4 (which, in its own way, is also a really big number). 
Now, about four years into this whole fatherhood thing, I’m realizing something I only understood intellectually before – I don’t know shit. When talking to my friend 
I like 
I knew I needed something to kick my brain into gear so I thought I would take a page from 
About 6 weeks ago, we entered our apartment. And there, with the exception of a few forays to get food and necessary supplies, we stayed. And, in fact, it was pretty much only me going out, so Rasa and Monki, they really stayed. Monki hadn’t left the house since the 13th of March (remember, we 
While on lockdown and teaching from home this week, my Media Issues class discussed the idea of “canon” in literature and they asked me if I would give them a list of things I think should/could be canon. Immediately I said the only list I could really give them were my own thoughts and they said that was fine, so here we go. 
Last August, we figured it was time and signed up our relatively freshly minted three-year old for a public kindergarten (which is pre-school in America – the terms are flopped here). And so, on the second of September, when school started for everyone, Monki was ready. Off we went to her new school, dropped off a crying little one with her new teacher, and went about our business for the morning. 
So about 41 year ago, I was being bussed back and forth to sixth grade. This was some genius plan to move kids around and for a year, we all left our neighborhoods and went to “sixth grade centers.” I started late, because the first part of that school year, I was sent to a private Jewish school run out of the temple we attended. Not sure why I was yanked away from friends I had been going to school with for the previous two years (might have had something to do with the whole bussing situation) but it happened. And I hated it. 
Tuesday morning I was up bright and early. Lin once again made fried egg and bacon sandwiches and we joked about the reviews I would leave regarding her hospitality. Truth be told, she was an amazing host. She took absolutely great care of me and Cecil, her wonderful cat, even slept with me a couple of the nights (and the less said about the hardness of the fold out bed, the better). 
Monday was my last full day of this trip and there was still some shopping I wanted to do. To that end, I arranged to meet my friend Tim at 
Sunday was the one day I didn’t have any shows planned. We’d thought about trying to get tickets for something else, but the only things available for Sunday were outrageously (for us at least) expensive. This left us open for other endeavors and without any time constraints.
One of the nice things about visiting London is seeing friends. There are a number of folks I know on the Island and whenever I can, it’s always nice to see them. So once I knew the dates and schedules, I began making plans. 
Getting the Hang of Thursdays 