Elephant-less circus

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When I heard the circus was coming to our fair town, I jumped at the chance to buy tickets.

Memories of all those extravaganzas from when we lived back on Flamingo Street started to parade themselves through my head. Three rings under the Big Top filled with lions, tigers, dancing bears, trapeze artists flying high overhead, and an impossible number of clowns climbing out of a miniature car.

Little did I know how different this circus would be from those of Flamingo Street past.

I must admit, I thought it a little strange to have to purchase tickets for a circus three months before the Big Top was even up. Normally, I’d purchase tickets from the man on stilts holding the tent flap open.

Times they have changed, and I must change with them and be willing to try new things. At least that’s what The Wife keeps telling me. I bought tickets online.

On the day of the event, we left two hours before showtime. Didn’t want to miss the elephant parade. While driving, I asked The Wife if the Big Top was on the right or left side of the road and what color did she think it would be. After all, any “real” circus has a Big Top.

Her reply was anything but clear, “Yes, it’s a tent, but it’s not really a tent. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Then I asked if there would be any baby elephants. (I love baby elephants.) Her answer was just a smile.

We arrived in the middle of downtown Atlanta and parked in a six-story parking deck. Then we followed the throng of folks all heading, I hoped, to see the elephant parade. The crowd funneled us to a huge blue, yellow, and white striped Big Top set up on a sea of asphalt.

Sadly, there were no elephants — guess we missed them. We went inside anyway, and that’s when the “circus” really got strange.

Greeting us was no man on stilts holding the front flaps open. Instead we were greeted by a blast of cool air. Yes, the entire Big Top was air-conditioned!

Next up, or rather down, was the floor. The normal three inches of sawdust flooring had been replaced by wall-to-wall carpet. Guess I should say tent post-to-tent post.

The usher told us to follow him to our seats, and on the way we passed an entrance blocked by a red velvet rope and a guy in a tuxedo standing guard. The sign said “For VIP’s only.”

I asked our usher if that’s where all the very important pachyderms hung out before the show. He just looked at me funny. The Wife, she rolled her eyes and just kept walking.

The show was nothing short of amazing. No elephants, tigers, or bears, but there were other incredible acts. For the next two hours we were entertained by a dizzying array of acrobats, dancers, trapeze artists flying high over the entire audience, live rock music, and singers.

I didn’t understand a single word, and for good reason. At intermission I read the program and the entire show was in a made-up language. There was even a juggling giant lizard who delighted in stealing popcorn from the members of the audience — just like my brothers and me used to do when we went to the circus.

From time to time, there was a giant fish bowl on stage with a contortionist diving in and swimming around. Don’t ask me why, but it really went along with the storyline and the made-up language I didn’t understand. The diving, swimming contortionist was one of the stars of the show.

Who was the other star of this unique elephant-less circus? Why, none other than the popcorn-stealing, juggling giant lizard, of course. Yep, you guessed it. I liked him the best.

The Wife and me were home by 8, our kind of night out on the town. I would highly recommend the show and even though they kept all the elephants behind that red velvet rope in the VIP tent, the popcorn-stealing juggling giant lizard and swimming contortionist are worth the price of admission.

There’re a couple of things to remember before you go. First, make sure to buy your tickets online well in advance. They sell out early. Second, don’t look to buy them from the man standing on stilts holding the tent flap open. Along with the elephants, we didn’t see him either.

Most importantly – whatever you do, don’t spend extra money for front row tickets. I’m still trying to get a refund from that popcorn-stealing, juggling giant lizard.

[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, served as a firefighter for more than two decades and has been a weekly columnist since 2001. His email is storiesbyrick@gmail.com. His books are available at www.RickRyckeley.com.]