TANGENTS By John Saccenti Our children remind us of the thrill of seeing the circus for the first time.
I’m not really one for the circus.
Acrobats? Seen ’em.
Trained poodles? No thanks.
Overpriced snacks and "must have" souvenirs for the kid? Ugh, not again.
So, when I was faced with the prospect of actually going this year, I was at first dismissive.
"The circus? Geez. I’ve seen it. It’s boring," I had said to my mostly agreeing wife just a few weeks ago.
But then I saw the circus’ advertisements and realized that this year was going to be different. This year, there was going to be an attraction that I’ll likely never see again in a big top setting Spider-Man.
I have no idea why, but when I heard that the Web Slinger and his partner in Marvel superheroics, the Incredible Hulk, would be on hand, the event suddenly became a must see. I wanted to see Spider-Man.
After all, how often does one actually get to see real life superheroes? In South Brunswick? Without leaving town or being mugged in New York?
Seriously, how often?
So, with that as my motivation, the Saccentis packed their bags, piled into the Camry and headed over to Crossroads South Sunday to see the Cole Bros. Circus.
Sponsored by the South Brunswick Lions Club, the circus plants its stakes in South Brunswick annually, bringing to this normally quiet town attractions from the four corners of the earth, including acrobats, daredevils on motorcycles and dancers.
But, with the exception of a new attraction called the human Slinky, and, of course, Spider-Man and the Incredible Hulk, it’s all pretty standard fare if you’ve been to a circus, or if you remember your last visit to a circus.
I went in ready to be bored, hoping that I would at least get to have a family picture taken with Spider-Man, you know, something goofy to send out as a Christmas card next year.
But, a funny thing happened on the way to the intermission.
My daughter, 5, fell in love.
She clapped. She cheered. She danced. She explained to me why some of the things were dangerous and why others weren’t and that some of the performers were really people in costumes.
In short, she was amazed.
And then a funny thing happened to me. I became amazed as well.
I had a front row seat at the circus, watching all the same, tired routines through the eyes of someone seeing it as though for the first time.
Thanks to her, I once again thrilled as the daring young man (and woman) on the flying trapeze reached hopefully for his partner, marveled at the acrobats as they climbed effortlessly up sheer, straight poles and winced as a cannon blasted a brave woman from its chamber.
Suddenly, Spider-Man became an afterthought, a well-placed commercial designed to sell some kind of weird, battery operated circus glow toy.
He wasn’t real. These people, the ones I was watching, they were real. They were thumbing their nose at death, defying gravity and doing everything we all longed to do when we were children.
I soaked it in. There was the big top, bright yellow and blue. There were bleachers filled with kids, cotton candy and clowns, and there was my daughter’s shirt and face, both stained with something red and sweet and bought only moments earlier.
And there was me and my wife, having a great time, all thanks to my daughter, who, despite having been to the same circus last year, was thrilling for the first time to the myth and splendor of the big top.
Apparently, "children of all ages" isn’t just a slogan. It’s a truth.
John Saccenti is news editor for the South Brunswick Post and The Cranbury Press. He can be reached via e-mail at [email protected].

