The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Professional clowning during pandemic is serious business
— Before the coronavirus outbreak, professional clown Guilford Adams could do a half-dozen shows over a long weekend and earn as much as $1,000. On the first Monday in June, a gig at a Glendale day-care center would be only his third in three months.
“I have a mortgage. I need to start paying bills,” said Adams, who has a wife and 3-year-old twin boys. “I need to figure out what it’s like to work in a sort of a COVID world now. We’re all trying to navigate it.”
Losing work is just one of the challenges that party clowns are having to deal with — learning how to perform in the new normal, with masks and social distancing, is another.
Adams, 46, has been clowning a long time, but he’s never experienced anything like the coronavirus outbreak, which has not only stopped him from working but is altering the way he will have to work going forward.
“I’ve had to adapt my show,” said Adams, who estimates he has done nearly 4,000 performances since his first clown show when he was in the seventh grade. But none, before now, were done wearing personal protective equipment, standing at least 6 feet from his audience and sterilizing everything he touches, including balloon animals.
“To be completely honest, I don’t know how to fix my messaging. I’ve been doing this for 20 years and I don’t know what I’m walking into.”
But doing it the old way is unacceptable as long as the virus lingers. So Adams wears a mask and gloves and encourages the adults around him to do the same thing. If nothing else, it sets a good example for the children.
“I see us trying to have to mold into what is a new thing,” he said. “But the reality is if I was asymptomatic and I contributed to hurting somebody, I’d be devastated.”
He admits he may have jumped the gun a bit on coming back before L.A. County had completely opened up. But then, which health official do you call to find out when it’s safe to be a clown again?
“There’s something very arm’slength about it, which is contrary to what clowns do,” he said. “Clowns kind of get into your space a little bit. “
At the Glendale day-care center, it was painfully clear his initial attempts to make a connection with the kids weren’t working. But when he stumbled through a purposely inept attempt at juggling, one girl began to laugh. Soon others joined in and Adams quickly found his stride.
By the time the 45-minute show ended, a teacher had to intervene to keep the kids in their seats.
He left to the cheers of a clown.