The Circus

You've got to get out occasionally, or so I'm told... We took the wee one to the circus in Elizabeth City, our nearby metropolis. Elizabeth Town would be more accurate, but that was taken, and Elizabeth Large Town would be even more accurate, but is cumbersome. In addition to several auto dealerships, E City as it is affectionately know by outer bankers, sports a vintage (mildly decaying) National Guard Armory. This sleepy--gymnasium really--played host to the greatest show on earth last week. Now, it is possible that the Circus Pages Circus is not the greatest circus ever to be performed, but I am pretty comfortable arguing that pound for pound, it's pretty bad ass! Now, let's put aside our concerns for the strange lives of the circus performers and staff (mostly one and the same on this scale), and lets let the 300 LB animal welfare gorilla doze in the corner of the room, and let's--just for a moment--marvel. To not be impressed by this show you would have to be dead, or higher than a giraffe's buns. Let's do stats first. The Armory's open room had to be around 10,000-15,000 square feet (guessing). There are vacation homes with more space than that (big ones, granted). There were probably less than twelve professional performers, though they wore many hats, and about as many prop guys and poop--no excrement managers. There were: three lions, two elephants, ten or so ponies, a horse, two tigers, a globe of death with four, yes four motorcycles!, a trampoline act, an ariel acrobatics act, and something that was a cross between a bullfight and a wardrobe extravaganza (you gotta see that one to believe it). Perhaps most impressively, the lion tamer, the ticket girl, the face painter, the acrobat, the bikini clad lady in the globe of death, camel wrangler, and sometimes announcer were the same person! She wasn't the only one. One of the acrobats sold popcorn, funnel cakes, did crazy business on a trampoline, and then rode a motorcycle (upside down at least thirty percent of the time) in the globe of death. Oh yeah, and there were four trained camels. From what I understand they are ornery cusses so, there's that. The versatility, the ease of transition, and the complete lack of pretense (my kid was high as a kite on cotton candy and all over the place, no on once asked her to sit down or back away from the rail) were pretty stunning, but what was more compelling to me was the scale. I live a tiny life in a tiny town, and truth be told, I love our tiny E City. And here it was, a tiny circus in size only. Literally every trailer hauling all of this talent and animal grandeur was parallel parked in less than one city block. Elephants!! You get that? Elephants plural! Tiny footprint, huge show. I know I sound like a bit of a company mouthpiece here, but I payed full price (and then some) I assure you. It was truly like stepping back in time. We drove forty minutes and fifty years into the past. My daughter and I took an elephant ride. She rode a pony as well. We never once saw a release form! The whole show fit snuggly inside the Armory's walls, but it completely blew our minds. I hope the magic comes to a mini city near you. You can invite them if you would like.... http://www.circuspages.com