The Cold and Rainy Wharf Rats

Plotnik forgot to mention to NotThat that the new Cirque du Soleil "Ovo" was indeed held in the parking lot of Braindead Caribbean Stadium, however it was inside a very cozy tent. Before the show Plot and Duck posed with the new Braindead catcher, Buster Stilts.



The trick is to get to the stadium early enough to park for free out on Terry Francois Boulevard. The problem is that the show starts at 8pm sharp, so you can't sit in your car past 7:40 or so at the latest, because there are lots of lines to get through heading into the tent. However, before 10pm you are only allowed to park for two hour stretches.

So, add it up. You have to leave your car twenty minutes before the last moment the parking violations bureau could come by to mark your tire with chalk. But if they do that, they still have to come back before ten o'clock to give you a very expensive ticket.

The city is broke, you'd think they just might do it. The circus doesn't let out until after 10:30.

But they seldom, if ever do. The only creatures the Plotniks saw when they exited the Big Top did bear a resemblance to Parking Violations Meter Persons, but they had four legs and very long tails -- two enormous wharf rats. One ducked into the storm drain but the other ambled slowly and confidently across Terry Francois in front of Jelly's Cafe. "Dose is wharf rats," one homeless guy said as we all stopped to stare at the sheer size of that impressive rodent. "Come in on boats. Bigger den cats," his friend said and that was no exaggeration.

The Great PlotnikMobile was soaked and dripping on the outside, but there had been no rain. It made Plotnik remember that, man or rat, being homeless down near the wharf in December can't be any picnic.

Another thing Plot and Duck were talking about on the short drive home was the life of circus performers. Ask The Great WantsANewName.Nik. Her son Will, who is as gifted an acrobat and circus performer as you'd ever want to see, is probably already at the age when his ankles and knees and shoulders are feeling a strain that is telling him he can't do this forever. And there are probably only a few good gigs in the world, Cirque de Soleil being perhaps the most prestigious and, hopefully, best paid.

But the Cirque website doesn't even bother to list the performers' names -- only their characters -- ant, spider, cricket. It's as if the individuals don't even count, only their roles. This, to The Great Plotnik, is astonishingly callous. They can have all the bombastic theatrics that they want but they still need the guy who can balance on one arm while riding a unicycle on a high wire.

Who are these performers? Where are they from? (Asia and Eastern Europe principally, it appeared to Plotnik and Ducknik, but who knows?)

Can you imagine how many years it takes to hone these crafts? And their professional lives must be about as long as pro football players, and they'll never make that kind of money unless they filch it.

Yes, we writers understand that part of it. But at least we can write until we're so old even we don't want to read our own Facebook page.