Now Entering the Bozone

Despite my aversion to clowns, clown noses have become a part of the family culture.

I bought Ken his first red nose many years ago from a little magic shop in Petoskey. He used it to amuse family and friends (but mostly himself) until it quite literally fell apart. Since then there have been many more red foam clown noses in our lives (and the black ones Ken calls his "formal" noses).

It seems like no visit is truly complete until someone dons a clown nose. Ben spotted one in the basket on the counter; add a formal nose for Daddy and Grandma runs for the camera.

Side note:

Sue Holmes, another known coulrophobe, is none the less a particular fan of Ken's clown noses. Knowing this, Ken packed clown noses for all when we went to Key West with Sue and Steve; one night we dressed for dinner and walked along the streets of Key West wearing them: three black noses and one red one.

As we walked to the restaurant, we passed a couple of homeless guys sitting on a curb. One of them leaned over and said to the other:

"Look at those clowns."