Carol B. and not the Carol B. from my childhood. My father abhored her, my mother enjoyed her show and so she was often on and I remember the ear-tug most of all when I think of her, just as I recall Conan's opening jump on all those old late-nights when there was too much alone, and not enough laughter.
Send in the Clowns is a song that I rehearsed a million and fifty times to audition for madrigals. On the day of auditions, I stayed home and suffered the rich suffering of one who just parted with any chance of having something she wanted terribly. I am half-mocking myself, except the desire for music (the piano I restored in my parent's garage, the lessons I asked to take and lamed out on in both piano and guitar, and the six years of vocal training...sigh, it was a Big Crush I had with music) continued. I ended up in accapella instead, me and a room full of talented Mormons, with a teacher who was himself a member of the Tabernacle Choir and I went on to be on literary staff and how could that be a bad thing. Still, this song, its backstory, the premise and the ways that we have to hold back, take risks and crumple sometimes, very intriguing to me just now. Thanks lovely Les-lou!