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They cracked jokes while slathering a thick cake of white paint on their faces. Red accentuated lips and noses. Gray formed a five o’clock shadow.
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Buffy the clown reaches out to high-five some parade-goers Sunday during the Grande Parade down Broadway in Winona. (photo by Katie Derus/Winona Daily News) |
Outlandishly bright costumes, curly wigs and unusually large footwear complete their look. If anyone sneezed during the preparation, baby powder would be everywhere.
They are a bunch of clowns.
The comedians draw on buffoonery and antics in their large bag of tricks to get a laugh or two. Some do slapstick — pie throwing, falling down stumbling and physical humor. Some do pantomime — no talking in acting out a skit or story. Others tell jokes or use props. Now that Steamboat Days has arrived, it’s time to send in the clowns.
‘Stumpy’
A friendly hobo in character, Larry Clingman aka Stumpy has been a clown with the River City Rascals for 33 years. The Winona clown club originator talked him into it.
“I think I enjoy it as much as I ever did,” said the 70-year-old.
The club formed in 1975 by a group of Jaycees and today about 25 people between the ages of 18 and 88 are members. The clowns entertain at parades, company picnics, nursing homes and many other local events.
“Our mission has two parts: To distract people from their everyday woes and tribulations — even if it be for only a short time,” Stumpy said. “And to put a smile on the face of children of all ages any way we can.”
It’s not always funny being a clown. Children can get scared, teenagers aren’t always impressed, Stumpy said.
A silly string incident with a kid at Steamboat Days in 2002 got one local clown in trouble with the law. The club now advocates a ban on silly string.
The Winona clown club recently awarded Stumpy “Rascal of the Year.”
It makes sense. His wily grin and tiny hat cocked to the side of his u-shaped hairline are a gas.
Stumpy keeps a range of props handy in his routine.
A devil pitch fork connected to a plastic bat he calls “a bat out of hell.” The Pillsbury Dough Boy hooked to a toy rake he jokes is “raking in the doe.” He’s also got a business briefcase made with underwear.
“Part of our credence is we never want to grow up,” he said.
‘Rosie’
A bright pink curly wig, oversized blue-tinted and pink-framed sunglasses and a frilly collar outfit makes life rosy for Rosie the Clown. MaryAnn Moore, 66, began clowning in 1999 and she loves every minute of it.
“What’s fun is you’ll be at a parade and a kid will give you a big hug,” she said. “We have a lot of interesting experiences. In the different towns we go to, there’s always something new you see there, like a child’s first parade.”
Everybody puts on their makeup differently, she said. Elmo is slap and go, but some really have a lot of detail on their face and it takes an hour. How do you get it off?
“Sandpaper and peanut butter,” she quipped. “Well, you can never believe what a clown says.”
‘Peppermint Polly’
“I’m a pretty new clown, just a couple of years,” Jean Clingman said. “My husband has been a clown for 33 years. This came with the I do.”
The 66-year-old Peppermint Polly wears peppermint-themed jewelry, a bright red wig and blue checkered overalls. Her knees don’t allow her to do big parades, so she decorates the car and provides water and props for the other clowns. The license plates reads: “Clown-C.”
“I’m always amazed,” she said. “People wave back exactly how I wave. I’m not the royalty wave, I do the clown wave.”
Peppermint Polly giggled, waving her hands as if she was swimming doggy paddle style.
“You can say and do things you can never do regularly,” she said. “Some of us are clowns even without the makeup.”
‘Elmo’
Mike Shuda of Arcadia, Wis., has been Elmo the Clown for more than 20 years. The Winona Clown Club named him the best parade clown.
His favorite part of the job is hearing little kids giggling. Elmo wears a big hula-hoop to expand his stomach and a red plastic nose. He acts shy and bashful, but he’s got a squeaky handshake and gives a bear of a hug.
“Stumpy and his mothers kidnapped me and made me a clown,” he joked about his start.
His most memorable experience was working at a nursing home where the staff warned him to stay away from a grumpy lady. Turned out, the lady followed Elmo around the home pinching his butt.
‘Buffie’
Judi Frahm began clowning around as Buffie 20 years ago with her trademark sidekick, a tiny black poodle dressed in a tiny hat and dress.
The 54-year-old Winona resident remembers a clown routine during Steamboat Days, where a firecracker went off in a house on wheels and a clown came out pretending to pull up his pants. She thought it was hysterical and it prompted her to cross over to clown.
She loves clowning at the Special Olympics because the kids get excited about the little things in life and their expressions amaze her.
“I would love to experience life that way,” Frahm said.
Over the years, she said not much has changed. Some clowns keep business cards. The outfits get updated.
“I kind of know the ropes,” she said. “At first I was a little bit more timid and now I kind of be myself more or be more like a clown and let my hair down and be a kid.”
“When you put your hair on and makeup on, you’re not you anymore,” she said. “I turn from Judi to Buffie. It’s so much fun it’s like having a second childhood.”
Contact reporter Amber Dulek at amber.dulek@lee.net or 507-453-3513.
myopinion wrote on Jun 24, 2008 1:14 PM: