Let us put by some hour of every day for holy things...

Think on th' eternal home,
The Saviour left for you;
Think on the Lord most holy, come
To dwell with hearts untrue:
So shall ye tread untired His pastoral ways,
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise.

--from Keble's The Christian Year, Thoughts in Verse



Tuesday, August 1, 2017

THEM!





Last week on facebook I posted a series of photo examples* of the many miserable monkey-themed torments which were routinely inflicted upon Baby Boomer-era kids. It's one of my theories as to why the world is the way it is today. It's difficult to undo that kind of psychological trauma and its long-term ramifications.

But worse, far worse, than the monkey madness was the damage wreaked by the diabolical child abuse torture known as clown cruelty. I can only surmise that, having endured the physical and emotional scars of World War II, our post-war parents unwittingly sought to dilute their own pain by deflecting some of it off on their offspring. It was a case of being born at the wrong time.

This insidious practice typically began in infancy.


There were clown baby bottles. So much more nurturing than a silly old-fashioned mother.




Crib blankets and nursery decor were rife with the hideous creatures.


There were clown rattles to hang in the crib. (Choking on one of the small parts was the only option to limit one's exposure.) 



www.etsy.com/listing/399779315/15-off-retro-creepy-rocking-bobble-clown


Sinister floppy clown toys were designed to leer alarmingly at baby during naptime. These were typically produced by the dozens for church and school bazaars by seemingly sweet grandmotherly types whose intentions remain unclear.







Even the nightlights and nursery lamps were clown-themed. (You'll notice how many of us are still afraid of the dark.)

But the torture didn't end in infancy.

Once we were on solid food, we ate with clowns.







Clown cereal for breakfast...




Served to us in clown dishes...


With, to keep us company in our high chair, yet another clown.

After breakfast, we were plopped in front of the television to watch the morning spate of kiddie programs.



From Romper Room...



...to Howdy Doody...
.
..to that nadir of ghastly boredom and grotesque dreariness, Bozo the Clown.

We kiddos were understandably cranky by that time, so Mom lulled us into an uneasy afternoon sleep by reading to us. About clowns.

www.etsy.com/listing/164763454/big-book-of-the-circus-1951-vintage

When we awoke, we were patted on the head and encouraged to play.







With clowns.

www.etsy.com/listing/399779315/15-off-retro-creepy-rocking-bobble-clown


www.etsy.com/listing/239027294/mid-century-clown-tin-tambourine-circus


www.etsy.com/listing/463244950/vintage-1940s-creepy-clown-ramp-walker

www.etsy.com/listing/533700066/mid-century-r-dakin-clown-felt-and-vinyl

Eventually, we were freed from our cocoon of clowndom and launched into the larger world of school. But even then, we were not quite free.



From the rude jolt of the clown alarm clock...

...to the lunchroom barrage of clown lunchboxes and thermoses...



...in lesson time and art class alike, we had clowns.

And then, when we finally returned home...


We got our afternoon snack: milk and cookies. Cookies--from a clown jar.


And for a special treat, we might be taken out in the evening for an exciting supper of hamburger and fries. 




Promoted  by a clown.




Needless to say, many of us baby boomers became raging alcoholics, forever attempting to escape the surreal images of our twisted childhood memories. Alas, I fear it is a forlorn hope.

www.etsy.com/listing/273431866/circus-liquor-neon-sign-photo-clown-art



So just hand over the obnoxious creepy chocolate dude and no one gets hurt.


http://www.citysweettooth.com/2011/11/14/chocolate-show-nyc-2011/




*https://www.facebook.com/SheerTrashRoadshow/posts/1471067202959411





1 comment :

  1. I love your blog! My husband and have talked about clowns and how we always despised them many times. And here you are giving us such a good laugh 😂😂😂. Your story is hilarious but it's true! I never even liked circuses. But then you have people like my daughter with a very dark sense of humor and someone who thinks clowns are really cool because they are scary. She is 33 years old! Thanks! Your blog made my day 🙏🤡👍

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