Monday, Indianapolis, Indiana

Of course it had to happen; no one lives forever. But this past weekend, fittingly during the Fourth of July holiday, a great icon of Americana passed over to the center ring in heaven. I’m sure there was a great gathering of deadly circus veteran in world history to give a “standing O” to one of the great O’s, BOZO the Clown.

For countless decades, BOZO was America’s clown. All you would have to say to someone is the name, BOZO, and the same picture appeared in their head as in yours. Every feature was recognizable and iconic; his voice instantly identifiable. BOZO brought joy to millions, and frightened many - although never intentionally. His image is so famous that it has become part of the English lexicon, often used derisively to describe someone who is frivolous. If someone calls you a BOZO, it is not a term of respect. But even though his name was bandied about to mock somebody, I don’t think BOZO was ever offended himself. Let’s face it, BOZO was secure. BOZO knew - and what - BOZO was.

Jerry Seinfeld used to make me laugh out loud with his short riff on Bozo. In his act he would ask “is it really necessary for BOZO to end the word ‘the clown?’ I mean is it really necessary to add that phrase? Is this so he wouldn’t be confused with BOZO the district attorney?” I know the legendary clown Barnum and Bailey CircusEmmett Kelly defined the identity of a clown for generations. But for baby boomers and below America’s clown was BOZO. Rest in peace.