Partway through day two in the tent, a co-worker got on the walkie with a very important announcement:
“Oh, my God, a clown just dropped his pants.”
I’d been huddled in a corner with my head down, trying to find a bit of air that wasn’t full of dust, but when I looked up, there it was:
One of the clowns with his pants around his ankles and his polka dot boxer shorts swaying in the breeze.
I guess he just felt the need to air it out.
I normally have my camera in a pouch on my tool belt, but when it gets really hot said tool belt gives me an awful case of the flop sweat (we’re taking Niagara Falls here) so Friday I left it in my bag and just jammed my gloves in my pockets.
So when I saw clown undies, I dove for my bag, desperately scrabbling for the camera so I could have evidence that once in my life I had seen a pantless clown and lived to tell about it.
I found the camera, turned it on and raised it up to frame a shot – just after the clown pulled his pants up.
Damn, damn, damn.
Note to self: Next time, staple camera to face so I don’t miss any more shots like this.
In a way, Southern California’s fire season has worked in the crew’s favor – we were supposed to shoot the dusty location four days straight, but since we had a fire delay we have the weekend to recover before doing two more days in the tent.
I took advantage of the two days off and sat in the steam room at the gym for an hour yesterday and an hour today.
I’m still coughing, but I don’t taste dust any longer, so I’m calling it a victory.