The Greatest Show on Earth?

At 4:57pm yesterday I got a text from my wife exclaiming, "We're going to the circus tonight!"

I didn't know how to react. Our house itself can be somewhat like a circus considering the behavior of our children and the noise level that accompanies it. That's no indictment of my kids either; I know that's just how kids are. But what the hell was my wife talking about? If the circus were being used as a metaphor for our house and our life, then we technically wouldn't be going anywhere. I knew that there was a three-year-old's birthday party coming up and that the kid's mom was promoting it with a circus theme. But I doubted that it would be on a Thursday night.

Could there really be a circus in town and, if so, could we really be going?

Yes and yes.

As exhausted and generally crappy as I'd felt all week up until that point, I didn't greet this news with overwhelming enthusiasm. We were headed to what was sure to be a crowded, load and flamboyant event, packed with children who were sure to be armed with boundless energy and overpriced and annoying souvenir toys. But in the spirit of being a good father and husband, I certainly wasn't going to turn my back on this. And it helped that we'd been hooked up with free tickets for the whole family.

So we were off to the so-called "Greatest Show on Earth." How bad could it be? "The Greatest Show on Turf" was pretty entertaining about ten years ago, with the likes of Kurt Warner, Marshall Faulk and Isaac Bruce leading a high-powered St. Louis Rams attack. Wait a minute, though, I hated that fucking team.

The first hurdle to clear, after simply trying to get the kids appropriately prepared and packed into the car for our outing, was parking. That's always an adventure when attending a large event such as this one, especially one when it's being held at a downtown arena. And, of course, it can be pricey. So imagine my surprise when I pulled into a multi-level garage just three blocks from the Sprint Center and was asked to only pay $2. The logical conclusion is that the folks at Standard Parking feel sorry for those headed to the circus. The attendant actually asked me where we were going before telling me how much I owed. What if I'd responded that I was meeting friends at one of the bars at the Power & Light District, probably the most popular social scene in the city? Would that have cost me $10? That's what I was prepared to pay last night. I'm pretty sure that's what it cost to park in the same garage for the two other events I'd attended at the Sprint Center, to wholly different events -- a Coldplay concert and a college basketball game -- but the same kind of large-scale entertainment. But, trust me, I wasn't about to argue.

It's too bad, though, that this apparent event-based pricing didn't carry over into the arena. Beer still cost $6.00 and $7.50, and I actually paid $7.00 for a big box of popcorn. Of course, I was the asshole for that in the eyes of my children because they had to share the box. Sorry, fellas, I'm not dropping $14 for something I could make at home for mere cents. Consider yourselves lucky for even pulling the one.

The circus itself, predictably, was a fucking circus: elephants, tigers and lots of man-on-man homoerotic acrobatics. I actually don't remember ever having attended a circus before, so I didn't know exactly what to expect as far as its format. It ended up playing out much like a musical. It was a story, albeit a very lame one (the ringmaster trying to get his hat back from a retardly annoying clown), with daring acts and song and dance peppered throughout. Honestly, I did find parts of it somewhat interesting. I think it's kind of cool that people can get elephants and tigers to stand up on their back legs and wave their front legs like begging dogs. Having seven motorcyclists speeding simultaneously through a steel globe was pretty freaking insane, and I'm still amazed that I didn't witness multiple fatalities during that display.

But the kids made it all worth it. Each one of them clearly enjoyed the circus a great deal, and that includes 21-month-old Lukas, who spent must of the time staring in wide-eyed wonderment. Plus, I made it out without having to buy souvenirs. So even with the ridiculous price tag of the popcorn, the whole event cost us just $9.00. If you want to get really specific, you can add another $2.31 for gas. That's what a gallon costs around here these days, and the roundtrip (24 miles is my guess, since that's what my back-and-forth to work is each day) was probably good to burn exactly that.

The Greatest Show on Earth? I'd say not. But for $11.31 for a family of five, it worked out pretty damn well.