It's time to embrace bozo-hood — and each other

Sandpoint is full of bozos. I don't mean jerks — I mean, instead of getting mad at each other, people here used to try not to take things so seriously — like clowns. We made fun of other people (and ourselves.) but we weren't mean. Then everybody laughed.

Remember when we got the police to arrest one of the spelling bee contestants because she was an “illegal alien?” (She spoke a half-dozen foreign languages and could outspell all of us. No fair.) Did you know the gal whose friend went to Antarctica and the gal made a video of herself taking all of the money out of her friend's bank account and giving it to local charities? The bank was in on the gag. Her friend laughed. What else could she do? She was in Antarctica.

Then there was that day in church when the choir was coming down the aisle, and just as the last choir member passed the third row of pews, an old lady who had Alzheimer's said very loudly, "He's too fat." It was almost impossible no to laugh out loud, but nobody did, even the choir member. I never saw everybody in church smile at the same time before.

Were you here when a county commissioner let people throw pies in his face for donations to a charity? He raised a ton of money.

There's a picture in the ladies' room at Eichardt's of all those real estate agents naked on the stage of the Panida. And then there's another photo taken from the rear of a line of pantless and shirtless gents we know and love. Naked people in inoffensive photos posted in public places are really funny. You can't take yourself seriously when you aren't wearing clothes.

And the Tervan. And the Follies. OMG. Did you see the Big Boy Ballet perform Swan Lake in wool plaid shirts and pink tutus?

Sandpoint inspires me to aspire to bozohood, because bozos don't get mad when they don't get their way. They're more grown-up than most of us humans. But there are now two people new to the area that I don't talk to. I wish I were enough of a bozo to just make fun of them without being mean. If only we could talk to them like they were real bozos. If we could make fun of them before they had time to start counting their money and blaming us because we don't like to see them change Sandpoint so much, just to suit their own needs.

The only thing I really need to be happy is for more people to be bozos here, and not take themselves so seriously. If only they would join in the funnin', instead of shooting down bozos. That's so pointless — everybody knows you can't keep a good bozo down.

NANCY GERTH

Sagle