Whimsical Airbound Elephants

So, I know this week everyone's Blogging about the big news stories: life and death cases in the courtrooms, guns in the classrooms, and the eternal debate over which came first the Chick-Peep or the Cross. I however have decided to chuck all that and run away to the circus! This Monday morning as I was driving to work, I noticed around the bend of 62nd Blvd, where my view of the Oaks Mall usually appears, a red and orange tent instead. My first reaction, crazy as it sounds, was that the Mall was infected with termites - and by this I mean the little wood gnawing insects, not the normal patrons of said establishment even though I've described them as bug-like creatures in the past. I've become so accustom to seeing the fumigation tents around whole buildings here in Florida (er Dobieville) that it was my natural first response. That was until I saw the Cannon. Right outside the billowy canopy was an extraordinary large cannon, with flames painted on, pointing in the general direction of the Mall. Obviously, this was not a way one deals with bugs. It was in fact an impromptu stop of the Cole Bros. Circus and they were setting up shop right before my eyes. Of course, then I ended up having to lookit the road and worry about how I was gonna explain being late to work again. On my way back that afternoon, I saw that they had set up a row of booths outside the tent for games and whatnot, had several long white trucks parked in a semi-circle around the booths, and had taped a number of 8x10 red arrow print outs on the light posts leading to the show, as if the 3 story striped tent wasn't a dead giveaway. Liz and I decided that since this was definitely the closest a circus was ever gonna set up shop to us, we should go and check it out... Possibly Friday. The next day, on my way to work, I was craning my neck to see if I could spot a trapeze artist or a bearded lady having their morning coffee or something. Alas all I could see was the Tent, the Cannon, the Trucks, and a large man in a wifebeater eating a hoggie. That afternoon, I hadda stop by the Mall to pay a bill - I'm convinced one suit bought at Burdines is gonna be the lynch pin in my financial downfall. As I was walking across the parking lot I could hear people in the tent 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' followed by a muffled applause. I wondered if they had any animals. Wasn't too long ago that I was watching reruns of that elephant who escaped in Manila or someplace and killed a guy with it's trunk or something and it was almost eerie to think of one barreling down the blvd blocks away from my pad. Still my interest was peaked and I was even more excited about hittin' the gig. That night there was a pretty bad storm. I say pretty bad, because there were tornado warnings going on till dawn and we could hear persistent thunder rumbling throughout the night, but we only got a couple inches of rain. The next day, on my commute I was just as surprised to see the whole affair was gone, vanished. They just, as they say, pulled up stakes and left town. Now, as this is more than the obvious but expected procedure of a circus group I shouldn't have been surprised. However, our Friday date was now kaput. We wondered if they had moved to our local fairgrounds, where circus-types are more typical , and to give hope to that thought, at the end of 62nd were three of those red arrows turned around and taped up on a light post facing in to town! I thought I could just follow the arrows and I couldn't miss the big top. (Then again there was the work thing and the lateness). Today, I've found out that their schedule has brought them to Georgia, so I didn't have a lick of a chance to catch 'em anyway. Ah well, easy come easy go, and yet it was kinda fun to think for a moment that the random appearance of a circus could be swept into the air, elephants and all, by a passing tornado. Allowing me to think on more whimsical things.