Here Come the Sockquistadors
Where the peaceful farming clowns combat the armed invaders.
As Loonisee, we were developing shows that were an oblique commentary on political, social and environmental concerns. In the hospital Robo was adding a joyful touch to the care for sick children. Clowning had unexpected depth and breadth.
In last week’s story Minnie gave Pierrot the dancing sock from her sock garden and made Pierrot happy. But just then, the Sockquistadors arrived from the Land of Cold Feet to conquer the Land of Warm Toes. It was particularly scary when they put Pierrot in a wooden laundry rack – a Sockade - and Rockbert stood as guard. Minnie accused him of soxual abuse. Don’t worry, Minnie had a way to put things right.
The Sockquistadors
Hello my name is Agnes.
Pierrot and I work with Minnie in the garden on the Sock Farm. We grow all kinds of socks. Pierrot is often sad because she can’t talk, but Minnie likes to talk all the time. We all get along well together.
One day in late summer when we were harvesting baby socks in the garden because they don’t take as long to grow as the other socks, we heard singing. It sounded like, “We’re from the Land of Cold Feet and we’re going to find the Land of Warm Toes.” As we looked up, we saw two strange creatures coming towards us. Pierrot, Minnie and I ran and hid behind the raspberry bushes.
“Look at this,” said the one with the big nose, “The Land of Warm Toes at last. Put up our flag!”
“Yes sir!” said the other.
“I declare this garden to belong to the Land of Cold Feet! Sing the National Anthem!”
And they began singing again.
Pierrot, Minnie and I stared out from behind the bushes. Suddenly Minnie jumped out.
“This is my garden!” she shouted.
“No, it is not! Not now!” answered one of the Creatures.
The Creature looked familiar to Minnie. She looked hard at his nose. It was Pierrot’s grouchy neighbour called Mister with a Christmas tree stand on his head. The other was Rockbert, who loved to sing, with a waste basket on his head.
Minnie had an idea. She smiled and tried to look friendly.
“Why don’t you try one on? Here’s a warm woolly one.”
She quickly slipped the sock on Mister’s bare foot before he could say no. It was the Itchy Sock.
Mister started to scratch all over himself. He scratched so hard his helmet fell off.
“Take this thing off of me!” he yelled.
Minnie grabbed his foot and he fell over. She pulled the sock off and before he could move, she put the Laughing Sock on him. Everyone knew Mister never laughed. He started to laugh and he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even stand up. “Help me, help me,” he chortled.
Rockbert was about to help him but Pierrot tackled him and Minnie slid the hot pink Singing Sock on his foot. Rockbert started to sing “Sock! In the Name of Love” and “Sockin’ Time”. He was very happy. He loved to sing. He didn’t even notice that Mister was still laughing helplessly.
“Take the sock off!” Mister guffawed, “I’ll do anything!”
Minnie saw her chance. “Will you leave my garden and farm alone?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, anything!” he snortled.
Finally, Minnie pulled the sock off and Mister caught his breath while Rockbert sang the “Sock Blues”. Pierrot shook her head as Minnie freed her.
“Why did you raid our garden?” demanded Minnie.
“I just had such cold feet!” exclaimed Mister.
Minnie pulled two red wool socks off of the line.
“Here,” she said, “These are Warm Fuzzy Socks. Your feet will never get cold!”
Mister took the socks from Minnie and looked at her. Should he trust her?
I think he did, because he put them on and kept them on. Did he look happy? Well, no. He was chasing Rockbert down the lane because Rockbert wouldn’t stop singing. I could hear the strains of, “These Socks are Made for Running” as they disappeared in the distance.
I helped Pierrot and Minnie clean up the garden and finish harvesting the baby socks. Pierrot looked at Minnie with open admiration. She mimed to me that Minnie was smart, strong and a good talker. I did agree!
Popcorn Philosophy - Clowning for Connection
From personal interview with Karen Ridd, October 2011. (Cont’d.)
“One of the hardest things for the children was when I had to leave—we’d had this wonderful time, but now I have to leave. It’s tough to leave. I incorporated leaving as part of the time in the room, and so I would never just leave, I would have difficulty leaving, and that would look like a lot of things. It would look like walking into the wall. It would look like trying to open the door—but I, of course, my foot is holding it, and I’m hauling on it, but my own foot is in the way, or I’m pushing instead of pulling.
Hospital rooms usually have a bathroom in the room with a door. One of the things I was always doing was waving goodbye—a big production—“I have to go, so sorry,” and then I march into the bathroom. Everyone knows I have to come right back out again, because there’s nowhere to go. There is no way out. You can really play that. So the bathroom, then, is funny.
I would frequently do a shtick of “I’m in the bathroom and now I’m locked in the bathroom.” So, now I’m pounding on the door and I’m trying to get out of the bathroom, then you hear the toilet flush. So, I flush the toilet and that sends Robo into a paroxysm of fear. “What’s this noise?” So people inside are hearing the toilet flush and Robo pounding. (Laughs) Very funny.
Finally I burst out, and now I’m trying to find the door again. The child sends me back into the bathroom, “Oh, the door’s over there.” “Oh, it’s over there, thank you.” And I go into the bathroom, lock the door and flush the toilet. There is repeated toilet flushing. There’s just so much to play with—you come out and you’re shaking a foot because it’s “wet” from the toilet. That was really fun.
There’s always a bedpan. Now bedpans are always clean. If they are sitting around, they’re clean. The moment they’re not clean, they’re taken away. They are cleaner than anything. They’re cleaner than the dishes that you have in your cupboard, but they’re a bedpan. So, I know that I’m not at any risk, and no-one is at any risk by my touching and playing with the bedpan, but we all know that the bedpan is where you poo.
The bedpan becomes a hat, the bedpan becomes a Frisbee, and the bedpan becomes all those things. So, there’s all this laughter around, “Oh, don’t put that on your head!” The play is really funny and perfectly safe.”
References
Proctor, Sue. The Archetypal Role of the Clown as a Catalyst for Individual and Societal Transformation. https://spectrum.library.concordia.ca/id/eprint/977096/