Sunday, April 21st I had my first ever trapeze class. I should confess that I've always wanted to fly on the trapeze. When I was younger, I wanted nothing more to be in the circus. Twenty years later I work at a talent agency, it's more or less the same thing. Dreams really do come true. The allure of living on a train with carnies, wearing sparkly costumes and getting to participate in a weekly elephant parade really appealed to me. I don't know why.
From age six to ten I used to produce a backyard circus. I created the acts, strung together the music (it was the 90's so a good John Tesh or Yanni re-mix always worked well - - adding suspense to my dangerous circus stunts), my mom helped me make costumes, and I hired performers. By "hired performers" I mean I forced my brother and sister and cousins to be part of the show; and I didn't pay them. When you charge $2.50 for admission it's hard to turn a profit. Yes, I did charge admission for my own relatives. I would have charged for beverages if I could, but Maryland law suggested you had to be over sixteen years old to serve beer, so my plans for beverage service were scrapped.
Come to think of it, I've always wanted to run a business. I had a front yard candy store. A backyard carnival (complete with recycled coke bottle toss, balloon darts and a little red wagon rollercoaster) and of course amazing live magic shows - starring me. How sad that later in life I would wind up poor and unmotivated and my entrepreneurial skills would be traded in for a rolodex, a broken keyboard and a head set.
My brother wasn't quite as acrobatic as I was, so he was basically a stage hand/extra. I think I may have given him a hula hoop and just said, "work something out". My sister was always quite the gymnast, so I would make her hang on to my hands while i was dangling from a makeshift trapeze set. Yes, you read that correctly. A trapeze set---in my backyard. My father haphazardly constructed a playground set and turned it into a trapeze set. It was more or less a couple of wood planks nailed to one of those Home Depot "build your own" swing sets. I rigged a trapeze to both ends of the planks. In retrospect, it was incredibly dangerous and I could have broken my neck at any moment. My parents however, loved me deeply, so they just said, "go for it". I would perform all sorts of tricks - knee hangs, layouts, toe hangs and flips. I had been put in gymnastics at an early age and I knew my true calling was either trapeze or trampoline. For some reason my parents thought a 14 foot high rusty trapeze set would be WAY safer than an enclosed trampoline. I'm still scratching my head about that one.
I was of course the star and producer of my own backyard circus. I made my dad be the ringmaster. There were a lot of faults with his performance. First off, he wouldn't dress up as a ringmaster. No top hat. No sparkly red vest. Just his Tommy Bahama shirt, shorts and dockers. This was not the circus I envisioned in my head. I would get really mad anytime he went off-book, which, by the way, he did a lot. He would interrupt the script to go chug a beer or perhaps converse with my uncle about the price of plywood. He missed many cues and/or changed the lines. He also refused to say some of the act announcements. As if announcing, "Elliott will now perform a one toe hang from the back of the porch, blindfolded and suspended 18 feet above the ground without a net" would somehow make him look like an irresponsible parent. Dad, you set up the trapeze yourself just two months ago and nailed in a 4X4 plywood beam as a trapeze rigging extension. What could possibly be dangerous about this? Besides, I was a fully trained circus professional (in my head). A toe hang suspended from the second story deck is perfectly normal behavior for an eight year old. The fact that I'm not currently a meth head, paraplegic ex- stuntman is somewhat miraculous to me.
Anyway, I bought the trapeze class as a Groupon. Groupons are great, except I would say about eighty percent of them raise eyebrows. Lasik surgery sounds like a great deal for two hundred dollars right? Until you realize the doctor is unlicensed and the office is actually in Inglewood. What could possibly go wrong? So, I walked into a house in a residential neighborhood only to discover my trapeze class would literally be held in a man's backyard. This guy Richie Gaona runs the place, he used to train D-List celebrities on Circus Of The Stars. That's right, when Brooke Shields, Charlene Tilton and Tracy Scoggins signed up to do a crooked backflip and humiliate themselves on national television during the 80's, Richie was the man responsible. Awesome! As you can guess, I was feeling super confident by this point. Not to mention, if one sets up a trapeze in his or her backyard, does the state regulate the equipment? Has Tyresha from circus inspection been around with her clip board? I'm not so sure.
There were about 20 to 30 people taking class, so if I died, at least there would be an eye witness or two. I sat down at the backyard picnic table, signed my release forms, made funeral arrangements and opened my bible. I tried to remember the Lord's Prayer from Sunday school, but all I could remember was , "Our father who ranked in heaven, hollow be thy name. My kingdom come, thy will be done, with one nation invisible, with liberty and justice for all. Amen". That didn't seem right to me and I didn't want to offend any of the Catholics at the table so I quit praying and watched the students in the air. The good news was, the majority of people in class didn't seem like they were meant for an sort of aviation, except maybe via cargo plane. The clunky girls who had joined me at the table were busy deciding who was going to take the picture and what they would be ordering at the Cheesecake Factory for lunch. They couldn't have been less interested in actually doing a trick. So I decided I would give it a whirl. At least there was a net. In reality the whole set-up was probably one-thousand times safer than my jimmy-rigged backyard trapeze/fort playground combo. So there I went, up the ladder, and perched myself on the beam.
And I grabbed the bar. I let go, and I flew.The most amazing experience of my adult life. I haven't felt that feeling of complete joy and freedom since the credits rolled 18 fuckin' hours later at the end of The Tree Of Life.
Richie Gaona turned out to be a great trainer, it turns out Brooke Shields backflip probably wasn't crooked due his lackluster training, but more so due to her flamingo style torso. I absolutely loved the class and Richie was great. I will be back for more, provided I can somehow figure out how to price out selling my body in order to afford the sixty-five dollar per class price. So ready, set, hup. *hup is German for, "don't die, we don't have insurance"*
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