I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Acrobatic Circus Performer.

One summer, as young men are wont to do, I ran away to join the circus. I wanted to see the world and earn my fortune. But after only a couple of hours my wife and kids tracked me down and dragged me back home. Walmart had called them and told them that I was hanging out in the camping section rambling on about circus tents being smaller than I'd imagined.
   So joining the circus was out. But that didn't mean I couldn't have my very own death defying acrobatic troupe in my very own back yard. I could perform feats of derring do for my friends and neighbors, for a small fee. I began to train tirelessly. And by train tirelessly I mean I put on a leotard  and did a couple of somersaults, and then stopped once I got tired. 
   I was ready for my first show. I sold tickets to my immediate family, for the inaugural show, but I shouldn't have priced them so high, because I had to loan them money so they could afford good seats, and by the time I scalped the tickets I was flat broke. But once word of show got out, I was sure I would make it all back. 
   I started off with some basic circus stuff. Juggling flaming knives, high diving into a kiddie pool, and wrangling dangerous animals. The audience wasn't pleased; they grew bored and resultless. I think the real reason is because today's circus going crowd is so cynical and hard to please, but they claimed it was because I had to make a three or four hour trip to the emergency room between each act. I was in danger of losing my audience so I pulled out all the stops and decided to finish with a grand finale that was so great it would make them puke. My world famous blind unicycle high wire act. 
   I climbed up on the roof with my unicycle and thanked my lucky stars for the cable that the city had so conveniently and thoughtfully, attached to my roof, knowing that I would someday become a world famous acrobat. I placed my blindfold over my eyes, grabbed my unicyle and launched myself off into my act, and I knew that I had finally succeeded in impressing my audience because I heard my wife scream in appreciation. Something about me being Electric, a real live wire.