My Yearly Clown Trek...

The trek through my neighborhood...

Every year I visit Family House.  (Family House is a place families live, while their children are in treatment at UC San Francisco Children’s Hospital.  Mostly children with cancer).

Every year, I trek from my house, two and a half blocks through my busy neighborhood, to Family House.  I live in an area, with plenty of restaurants, small jewelry stores, coffee shops, farmer’s markets and florists.  It’s a slightly upscale area of San Francisco, near Golden Gate Park.  

As I walk, very few people look at me smile or say hello.  Always interesting, I mean, I am a clown, you can react in any way, I’ll take it.  You want to become invisible, become a clown.  

It was evening because I visit the kids after their Thanksgiving banquet.  Plenty of people coming home from work, more looking for a place to eat or coming back from the store with bags of groceries.  

Of course some people say hi, or smile.  Of the 75 people that saw me (yup, it’s a busy neighborhood), 3 or so acknowledged the clown walking down the street. 

I’m not a creepy clown, I always smile when I’m in make up, it just looks better.  I am carrying juggling clubs, my little pink case, I’ve got big shoes and a red nose.  

I think I’m pretty cute.  But then again, I always think I’m pretty cute, except when I get out of the shower and scream at my reflection.  

The kids and Family House loved me, I would say I “killed”  but that might not be funny dealing with sick kids.  

Then I walk home.  Sweaty and pretty full of my own success.  

Today I’m a sociologist.  Yesterday, I was a strange character walking down an Urban street.  

That’s the life of a clown.