(Interesting note) Coulrophobia is not defined in my Merriam-Webster dictionary.

According to Wikipedia: Coulrophobia is a fear of clowns.

(Sidebar) The term is of recent origin, probably dating from the 1980s, and according to one analyst, “has been coined more on the Internet than in printed form because it does not appear in any previously published, psychiatric, unabridged, or abridged dictionary,”

However the author later notes, “regardless of its less-than-verifiable etymology, coulrophobia exists in several lists”. The condition is a specific phobia (DSM-IV Code 300.29).

The prefix “coulro-” may be derived from the Ancient Greek word κωλοβαθριστής meaning “stilt-walker”, although the concept of a clown as a figure of fun was unknown in classical Greek culture. (Source Wikipedia)

Question: Wasn’t that fun?

If I were gonna take a stab at it, I believe I’d have to go with explaining the word, (coulrophobia) a word (coined) in a smoke filled room behind closed doors by a gathering of self-proclaimed nonpartisan politicians, and/or Clowns.

At the age tender of six, while residing in the (at the time,) predominately agricultural community of Oxnard California, an, (at the time) scheduled stop for the Barnum and Bailey Circus, I discovered the personal joy of being a clown. Albeit the experience leading up to my discovery was anything but joyful. Due to the fact that, (at the time) the predominate heroes of the hour were, ..Roy Rogers, ..Gene Autry and…


William Boyd, and/or “Hopalong Cassidy.” With Hopalong Cassidy leading the list.

Anyway, to inject a little (brevity) into what could otherwise easily become a “Epic Novel,” ..the morning of the circus’s arrival, was traditional, ..a parade through the center of town was scheduled to gather the townsfolk, ..and kick off what would hopefully be a profitable day for Barnum & Bailey, followed by a (Best Costume) contest.

Which of course I was bound and determined to avoid as one of my older brothers, (name withheld for privacy) and several of his friends had (all) decided to be “Hopalong Cassidy, ..and as there was only (one black hat) our house, ..there was no black hat available to me. Matter of fact, when the pickin’ was done, ..there was little to nothing available to me, ..and had I been left to my own devices, I would have been content to hate my brother and his friends from the curb.

Albeit sense my mother was one of (those) mothers that couldn’t leave well enough alone, ..she entered, (at the last possible moment) ..with a (borrowed costume), ..borrowed from a neighbor that I was at the time at odds with. Which was bad enough in itself, ..but then the costume, ..was a “Clown” costume, Bozo the clown. Talk about adding insult to injury, I was beside myself. No way could I be a clown in the midst of 200 Cowboys.


 Bozo the Clown

Returning to brevity; at the end of the parade, to include my brother and his friends, there were more than 200 Cowboys, with more than half emulating Hopalong Cassidy.

Question: How many clowns were there in the parade that day?

Answer: One.

Question: Who was the Grand Marshal of the parade that day?

Answer: Bozo the Clown.

Question: Who took the “Blue Ribbon” for (best costume) home that day?

Answer: Me.

Okay, I’m not accomplished when it comes to brevity.

Question: So what do clowns have to do in the theme of politics?

Barack Obama 

 Answer: Sadly, ..way to much!

Think about it, I’ll be back tomorrow

Crusader Rabbit…

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