I dreamt about Bello again last night. The dreams are always very positive. This time I was backstage (which was Costco, of course) helping my friends from the Playmill get their act ready. They went on after the chinese acrobats. After I helped David get his large banner ready, I went out to the audience to sit in my usual place, the same place I sat with my mom in a previous clown dream. I was joined by various people, including my grandma. We were in just the right spot to watch a special horse act which took place on the bleachers of the balcony to our left. Then it was time for the entrance of the Playmill act, and I ran down to get in my position in one of the "revolving trapeze carriage cars," right behind Randy Boothe and Gayle Lockwood in theirs. Bello was there to help me and make me feel comfortable. He talked me through what would happen and how to be a good circus personality. As we circled the rings on the track, we would occasionaly catch each other's eye, and he would just give me a nod of encouragement. The act was quite a success.
****
**ADULT LANGUAGE WARNING**
I have tried to figure out why, in the midst of usually traumatic circus dreams, Bello is THE ONLY positive part. Ever. It may be because in my actual circus experience, he was, well, THE ONLY positive part. I can, and have, go on and on about circus society, and how it is VERY difficult to be accepted. I went into my job with people flat out telling me to my face (supervisors, colleagues) that they couldn't wait to see how soon I'd leave. It is a hard thing. Well, I did last longer than anyone before me in my position-- 4 months. And it was hard. Every day was hard, mostly on a social level. When you not only work with the same people, but live with them, it is beyond me how rude and cold people could be. I am, by nature, a very nice person. I am polite, I am willing to concede if it will keep the peace. Not always, but most of the time. Well, one person who was always polite, smiling, and just KIND was Bello. It is something that comes across when you see him perform-- the fact that he has a good heart, and a smiling soul. I was leaving the Red Unit in Indianapolis. That was to be my last city. One of the constant problems that I encountered was an intentional miscommunication as to where I was to park my trailer. I think it was a game that the guys played-- let's see how often we can make her move that damn trailer. In Indianapolis, we were at the Conseco Fieldhouse in the heart of downtown. The animal compound, in this particular venue, was across the street on the 3rd level of a parking structure. An oddly shaped, angular, parking structure. Well, since I arrived late, having spent the night alone in my trailer in a more than questionable area of Indianapolis between a few sets of traintracks (according to my given instructions, I might add), I had some difficulty trying to fit my huge camper into the very narrow spot left for me (seen here in quadrant 5 E-F, the triangle to the east of the Fieldhouse-- picture me and my camper and 10 others plus horses and elephants-- all in that little parking lot). I got it placed, and Sacha, my direct supervisor, came and told me that I had to turn the camper around the other way. This was, I am sure of it, all a part of "the game." But I conceded. And proceeded to attempt a 90-point turn in a 24 foot Four Winns 5000 in a 25-foot narrow corner of a parking lot. In the midst of a moment of supreme frustration, I heard someone knocking on my driver's side window. It was Bello. He asked what I was doing. He had been watching me from his trailer, and had come to my aid. I was tired and on the verge of tears of frustration. I tried to explain to him that I had been parked, and that Sacha had told me to move. "Who's Sacha?" he said. He of course knew who Sacha was... it was an understood "who does Sacha think he is" sort of thing. "Well, my boss for one thing." "Fuck Sacha," was his reply, as he opened my door, took my keys, and proceeded to park my trailer for me. Then noting that my trailer was dangerously angled, went to his own trailer and got levelling blocks so that I could live un-tipped for my last week with the circus. "Bello's Blocks" have become a symbol to me of simple service, the difference a smile can make, and the lasting dream-influence of a well said "Fuck Sacha."
No comments:
Post a Comment