The Answer, My Friend, Is Blowin' In the Wind

Let's take a stroll down memory lane as well as listening to some new stories for you.


Not too long ago I told you a rather amusing story about a booking I had in Illinois that was temporarily postponed by a tornado. Click HERE if you don't believe me.


What made this story so funny was how chronologically close this freak occurrence happened to my home being destroyed by a microburst (a straight-line, tornado-force wind). Once again, a LINK for your amusement.


I've lived in the Midwest all of my life until recently. I'm no stranger to tornadoes and other strong winds & storms. In fact, I have had my show interrupted by a tornado twice in my lifetime.


The first time happened in Benton, Illinois around 1995. I was on the road with a small traveling circus and having a rather awful string of bad luck. The trip started with my car dying and didn't improve much from there. I recall at least three vehicular breakdowns on that trip.


There has always been discussion around my family of a "Martello Curse". See, some time ago one of my family members did something dreadful like feeding a neighbor his own cat for dinner or something like that and apparently, in the Italian immigrant community, that is a curse-worthy offense. What is it with Martellos and cats anyway?


I have never given much credence to such things as curses. I would choose to use it as a convenient excuse for bad things happening. Sometimes you just need an explanation, ya know?


Since I didn't believe much in curses I would also upon occasion just take the more sensible approach to adverse things landing on my life. I just assumed that God hated me. Hell, I don't much believe in God so why not lump Him in with my convenient excuses for all the shit, right?



On the day in Benton my car broke down again on the way to the gig. While talking on the phone to my God-fearing girlfriend at the time I'd mentioned the curse and how I was certain that God hated me. This sparked a rather unnecessary heated discussion about how I can't think that way and so on.


Later that day I managed to get to the show on time and set up for a big day of merry-making and more importantly, money-making in the form of balloon sales during intermission. I made lot of gas - car repair money on the show from the balloon sales. The day promised to be PACKED with circus-goers and indeed we had a HUGE crowd. My plate-spinning act was the last act before intermission.


I was getting the audience whipped into a frenzy. That act never fails to get them going if done properly. I was breaking plates to add to the suspense, nearing the conclusion of the act and then breaking a few more - it was one of the best performances I'd ever given. A wild crowd right before intermission almost guarantees big dollars.


I had just finished spinning the 6th of 10 plates when some stranger stormed into the circus ring and grabbed the microphone. It wasn't a freak circus fan or an Andy Martello stalker. It was the town's Fire Marshall. Apparently there was a tornado sighting 8 miles out of town and he insisted on ending the show IMMEDIATELY!


"Sorry folks, the show has to stop. There was a tornado sighting and you all must get in your cars and go home right now!"


My act was cancelled by a tornado. My intermission money was never made and the crowd left in a most unorganized hurry.

He went on a few more times, presumably to increase the panic, if not just create some for no good reason. The funny thing was, we were in a high school gymnasium. We were actually in one of the safest places in the whole damn town and he sent some 450 people outside into their cars to drive in the storm. That gymnasium was actually the town's storm and bomb shelter and he felt it necessary to put people in harm's way.

Later that night I joked with my God-fearing girlfriend that it would be difficult to argue with me when I say God hated me. After all, if He sent a tornado to put an end to my act and my earning potential, that has to carry some validity.

Sound like too much to believe - this odd series of "coincidences" regarding tornadoes and storms? Is this just another "Number 32" kind of thing for old Andy? Well, if you've come this far you may as well hear the rest of the story.



Here is a clip from a local Marengo, Illinois newspaper (Presumably the Beacon News or the Republican, later merged into the Beacon-Republican and then completely dismantled altogether.). This was about 1979-1980 and I was in the 5th grade. We were all given a writing assignment about things we're afraid of and why. At the time we thought it was for a classroom grade. Instead it was for a feature piece the paper wanted to do a on childhood fears. Those who told the best stories of fears ended up being interviewed & photographed I'll just let the picture and caption speak for itself.


I remembered this when the microburst happened and had hoped I could get my mother to send me a scan of the story.


I still am not convinced of the existence of God or the power of curses, but I can certainly say that some things just happen to certain people for a reason. Until I truly get to enjoy my new life in Vegas I am being hesitant to call my storm "The Curse-Breaker". However I can be a bit taken aback by the continuing presence of things like the number 32 and freak storms in my life.

Ringling Bros. Has My Number

This is the kind of crap that makes numerologists cream their jeans.

Many people have been telling April and me about how this move to Vegas is somehow "meant to be". Everything from the microburst destroying our apartment to the availability of a home in Las Vegas was in the cards for us. I don't doubt them for the most part.

Interesting thing about how we came to live here. In order to keep everyone I know up to date as the apartment disaster events unfolded, I tried to maintain this blog as well as make a few posts on some of the newsgroups I visit online. Among those groups is the Ringling Bros. Clown College Alumni newsgroup.

The home we are now residing in belongs to Katie and David Costello, two former Ringling clowns, like myself. Katie and I were in the same Clown College class in 1988 and haven't seen each other since then.

She read the post I made and dropped me an e-mail to make sure I was safe. After reading my blog and knowing that April and I had a trip to Vegas planned, Katie mentioned she and her hubby were selling their house in Vegas. Not knowing that April and I had ever wanted to relocate she mentioned that if we'd ever consider leaving the Chicago area we could rent the house for a short time to get established out here. This would serve a couple of purposes. Their mortgage on the place would be covered and we'd have a place to stay. NICE!

Now here's where I consider it most interesting.

• The apartment was destroyed on 3/31.
• The street number of our house is 32 (the number after 31 ya know).
• The week April and I were here to visit Vegas and check out this house was the week of April's 32nd birthday.
  

This home is owned by one of my Clown College classmates. During our graduation show, essentially an audition before the high and mighty Kenneth Feld for a chance to go on the road with the show, all of the clowns were made to wear a number on our wardrobe at all times. This made identifying the clowns that Mr. Feld wanted on the show much easier. After all, he didn't know any of us by name of anything like that. 10 1/2 weeks of intense training and we were all essentially reduced to a single identifying number.

I've kept many things from my Ringling days. I still have all of the makeup, the shoes and outfits, and other mementos. One most important thing I have from my time with Ringling is the little cloth disc with my I.D. number on it. I've had this in the bottom of my makeup box ever since the graduation show ended in October of 1988. The number?
You can also have fun with the fact that the news about the disaster hit the world on 4/1 (April Fools Day). I am April's husband and many would consider me to be April's Fool. It is also one of my favorite days of the year and it certainly is an appropriate day for a former circus clown.

If you add 4 & 1 you get 5. If you take the numbers 3 & 2 and add them you also get 5.

I could go on and on with stupid number coincidences. But that would be just silly.