Column Chronicles: The life and times of a rodeo clown, part eight

The life and times of a rodeo clown, part eight

Frank Cotolo
March 3, 2016

My job as a rodeo clown working for The Rootin' Tootin' Wildcat Rope & Revolver Rodeo made me experience many periods of depression which were followed by periods of elation. Neither could be explained but after a while I realized there was no inbetween. I was either very up or very down.

Then I met Hilda. She was a champion rider that the rodeo hired somewhere between our shows in West Virginia and Illinois, which would narrow the location down to Tennessee, Kentucky, Missouri, Arkansas or Kansas to the north or Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi or Arkansas to the south (yes, Arkansas gets on both lists; check a map to verify).

Hilda became a sort of guru, which in the case of being female could be called a guruette [sic], I think? Anyway, she was wise beyond her years, though I always thought the expression was "wise beyond her ears." I didn't even know how many years she had to her life, I mean I didn't know her age when I met her. She was ageless in the true sense of that phrase, which means that she could be young and old and naieve and wise and calm and riotous and wicked and angelic. She was one strange broad.

Hilda was the talk of the rodeo when she joined. She said she didn't like clowns but she liked me as long as I didn't wear my clown makeup when we went swimming. I told her I couldn't swim and she said she would teach me. I said I didn't want to be taught to swim but I was really turned on by her beauty and she pointed out that she never wore makeup, that her beauty was natural and I said, "Damn, that's good."

After her first few shows we sat in the railroad yard and talked. I told her I had no feelings that weren't extreme and she asked me how I felt when I was with her and I told her I felt very well and she smiled and when she smiled I felt calm like I hadn’t since I noticed that my feelings were extreme.

"You have a great affect upon me," I said to Hilda.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," I said. "But I don't want to fall in love with you because that is an extreme feeling."

"No it is not. Love should not be an extreme feeling."

I sat there thinking about what she said and I realized that she was correct. Love should be comforting and make a person feel at peace. I told her she had opened my eyes to that explanation of love.

"Good," she said, "now let's have sex."

After we had sex, Hilda got onto her trusty steed and said, "I call my horse Giddy Yap." As soon as she said that, the horse galloped away. I never saw Hilda again.

Frank Cotolo can be found hosting the talk and interview programme Cotolo Chronicles. You can send him an e-mail at this address: frank@148.ca.