February 25th
I had promised Django a day out during his half term break last week, However pressure of work and deadlines had reduced this to but a mere lunch trip on Thursday.
So today I attempt to make a mends and take him to the circus.
Zippos circus has been in residence at Brent Cross for the past week. We drove out through the drizzle and low and behold there were indeed tickets left for the final morning performance. We entered the entrance marquee where the damp air hung with the aroma of chip fat and popcorn.
We queued up for a box of the the over priced corn de pop and were served by a slender woman with far too much make up on. Only to later discover that when not serving kids and parents fizzy drinks and junk food, she was in fact Princess Lena the Rumanian queen of the high trapeze. Jeez these people work hard for the money.
Inside the small sawdust laden circus tent we took our seats ring side. Django was, for the most part, totally captivated. In a world of cyber entertainment, blue screen dare devils, cinematic trickery and risk free, health and safety conscious activities there was something genuinely shocking about seeing people close up risking, if not their lives, then serious permanent injury. In fact there were a few moments that I could barely watch. The stocky indian Princess from the family of knife throwers (who we had seen some 20 minutes previously juggling foot balls and burning tennis racquets and introduced as Czechoslovakia's finest) that was tied to a large spinning wheel and had real, sharp, large knives thrown at her, was a case in point. As for the insane south american troupe of high wire nutters who generally pissed about and tried to put each other whilst they balanced across a high wire some 100 ft up in the roof of the tent with no safety net, or safety wires! Well I watched that through the fingers of my hands. At one point the youngest member walked across to the middle and begun to juggle the hoops he had balanced precariously on one arm. He leaned over to catch a misplaced hoop and began to fall. My son was about to see a grown man die or become a paraplegic at the very least. But, ho ho, his shoes had been attached to the rope. How we laughed.
After lunch at somewhere just dreadful that no self respecting parent should ever take a child (don't tell mum!) we went back home.
Django was full of tales of the daring acts he had just witnessed. When asked what his favourite thing was, he said 'The budgies'. The aging ringmaster took the spotlight in the second half with-the kind of bird act that I haven't seen in over 30 years. A collection of budgies pull small carts and slide down slides. It was rubbish, anachronistic and in the word of he great bard, bleedin naff. Django loved it and kept laughing at the memory of the Budgie climbing up the ladder, running round the others and sliding down the slide when the ring master kept telling him off. Bless him, he's only 4 and a half.
'Mum! after that we had lunch at McDonalds'.
Never tell a 4 year old to keep a secret.
I had promised Django a day out during his half term break last week, However pressure of work and deadlines had reduced this to but a mere lunch trip on Thursday.
So today I attempt to make a mends and take him to the circus.
Zippos circus has been in residence at Brent Cross for the past week. We drove out through the drizzle and low and behold there were indeed tickets left for the final morning performance. We entered the entrance marquee where the damp air hung with the aroma of chip fat and popcorn.
We queued up for a box of the the over priced corn de pop and were served by a slender woman with far too much make up on. Only to later discover that when not serving kids and parents fizzy drinks and junk food, she was in fact Princess Lena the Rumanian queen of the high trapeze. Jeez these people work hard for the money.
Inside the small sawdust laden circus tent we took our seats ring side. Django was, for the most part, totally captivated. In a world of cyber entertainment, blue screen dare devils, cinematic trickery and risk free, health and safety conscious activities there was something genuinely shocking about seeing people close up risking, if not their lives, then serious permanent injury. In fact there were a few moments that I could barely watch. The stocky indian Princess from the family of knife throwers (who we had seen some 20 minutes previously juggling foot balls and burning tennis racquets and introduced as Czechoslovakia's finest) that was tied to a large spinning wheel and had real, sharp, large knives thrown at her, was a case in point. As for the insane south american troupe of high wire nutters who generally pissed about and tried to put each other whilst they balanced across a high wire some 100 ft up in the roof of the tent with no safety net, or safety wires! Well I watched that through the fingers of my hands. At one point the youngest member walked across to the middle and begun to juggle the hoops he had balanced precariously on one arm. He leaned over to catch a misplaced hoop and began to fall. My son was about to see a grown man die or become a paraplegic at the very least. But, ho ho, his shoes had been attached to the rope. How we laughed.
After lunch at somewhere just dreadful that no self respecting parent should ever take a child (don't tell mum!) we went back home.
Django was full of tales of the daring acts he had just witnessed. When asked what his favourite thing was, he said 'The budgies'. The aging ringmaster took the spotlight in the second half with-the kind of bird act that I haven't seen in over 30 years. A collection of budgies pull small carts and slide down slides. It was rubbish, anachronistic and in the word of he great bard, bleedin naff. Django loved it and kept laughing at the memory of the Budgie climbing up the ladder, running round the others and sliding down the slide when the ring master kept telling him off. Bless him, he's only 4 and a half.
'Mum! after that we had lunch at McDonalds'.
Never tell a 4 year old to keep a secret.
posted by Jakko's blog at 11:36 AM
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