So a Lesbian Clown and a 40-Something Magician Go On a Date
Some people don't like clowns. I happen to have married one. My husband was a birthday clown for about four years in the early 2000s, a history that endeared me to the premise of Kristen Arnett's latest, 'Stop Me if You've Heard This One.'
Set in Central Florida, the novel follows Cherry Hendricks as she attempts to navigate the vicissitudes of late-stage capitalism. What does that look like? It means she spends her days working at Aquarium Select III, a dimly lit fish and reptile store, while pursuing, in her time off, her true calling: clowning.
Cherry's clown persona is Bunko, a rhinestone-clad cowboy afraid of horses. She mainly books children's birthday gigs, but she's desperate to leave that grind for more full-time clown work. Luckily, there is a big audition for a traveling summer showcase. Cherry believes if she books the tour, it would allow her to 'network with half the clowns in Florida' and help her reach the big time.
Then she meets Margot the Magnificent, 'one of the most well-respected magicians in the greater Orlando area,' through a dating app. Margot is older and toys with Cherry's heart, but she may have the professional connections to secure Cherry's future. Madcap adventures ensue, with a laid-back picaresque pace that still contains the plot elements you're hoping for: the dangling lure of the big audition, conflict with disapproving family, money problems and some pretty hot lesbian sex.
Throughout the novel, clowns are framed as a way to explore queer identity and gender expression. Bunko is after all a cowboy and is referred to with male pronouns, though Cherry is a woman and referred to with female pronouns. But the way that clowns are reviled by the public at large is also explicitly compared with the queer experience: 'Clowning requires a kind of steeliness that I associate with my coming-out process: the knowledge that there will always be people in life who will hate you for who and what you love.'
Clowns have always provided social commentary, whether by making kings laugh at their courts, or by reflecting back to the crowds at the circus their own self-serious posturing. But Cherry is not the scheming, hyper-intelligent court jester figure of Dumas's 'Chicot the Jester,' nor is she meant to be a dark political symbol like Heinrich Böll's Hans in 'The Clown.' If anything, she is closer to The Dude in 'The Big Lebowski': hapless yet lovable, the protagonist while never fully becoming the hero.
Though Cherry has emotional motivations for becoming a clown (she's grieving a dead older brother who was always the life of the party and their mother's favorite), she is also interested in the philosophical underpinnings of clowning. Her musing leads to some of the most interesting lines in the book: 'To clown well, you must embrace the light smile and the dark heart.' Though her conceptual preoccupation sometimes slows the pace, the nerd in me longed for these passages to go even deeper and provide more technical and historical insight. Clowns are curiously underrepresented in literature, and this is rich terrain.
Like Bunko, Cherry bumbles. A lot. If at times I yearned for her to simply have a better plan, or have a better act, or a better insight, I could also keenly imagine Arnett flopping down on my couch, cracking a beer and saying, 'She's not a heroine, she's a clown, you dork!' Part of the book's social commentary is a rejection of success as framed narrowly by capitalism, which also means dispensing with traditional narrative expectations of what the 'hero prevailing' might look like.
What Arnett does best, besides set up scenes so cinematic the book is practically begging for adaptation, is ground Cherry in emotional reality. This is ultimately a book about not being loved enough by your mom, and the psychological accuracy of the scenes where Cherry grapples with that deficit ultimately carries the novel.
At one point, Cherry is visiting one of the book's most lovable peripheral characters, an elder clown and purveyor of clowning accessories named Miri, who is certain that dolls have souls and that how we treat dolls determines how we come back in another life. 'I don't want to come back as something no one loves,' Miri says, a thought that haunts Cherry. If all characters are dolls to some extent, then it is clear Arnett has nothing to worry about: She loves Cherry very much, and by the end of 'Stop Me if You've Heard This One,' readers will love Cherry too.
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Indianapolis Star
3 days ago
- Indianapolis Star
Doyel: Jim Irsay loved his daughters, his Colts and his music. And Indianapolis
INDIANAPOLIS – They're telling Jim Irsay stories at his funeral service on Monday, and you don't know whether to laugh or cry. In the sanctuary of St. Luke's United Methodist Church, people are doing both. We're laughing to hear about Jim Irsay, owner of the Indianapolis Colts, power lifter of weights, being the Irsay family chef on Christmas morning, making omelets. His secret? Feta cheese. And laughing he'd get on the blender and make the best homemade chocolate shake anyone ever had. His secret? French vanilla creamer. Laughing, because when he was a boy in Winnetka, Illinois, he'd get permission to invite a friend — one friend — for a sleepover. As that kid was knocking on the front door, greeting Jim's parents, a handful of others would be sneaking around back and sneaking in through Jim's window. 'Late Night Action,' Irsay called those secret missions. Laughing, because when he became a father he'd sketch out happy little pictures for his girls. Irsay knew he wasn't much of an artist, so he'd include sticky notes on the pictures with arrows pointing out details like: 'This is a mountain!' Laughing, because he watched 'The Big Lebowski' and 'The Martian' so often he had them memorized. Laughing, because he was the same with musical lyrics. No, he was even better with lyrics, and had a knack for coming up with the perfect lyric for any situation. He'd encourage his three daughters — Carlie, Casey and Kalen — to learn the songs of his beloved Beatles like this: When a Beatles song started playing, the first girl to come up with the title and singer got a Tic Tac. Laughing, because so many speakers at the funeral can do a passable imitation of Irsay's slowly crooning voice, including some of his favorite catchphrases: 'Fire up,' he'd say to motivate someone. 'Really? Oh wow,' he'd say when he was told something of great importance, like McDonald's introducing its all-day breakfast menu. Laughing, because the house where he and Meg raised their girls — not far from St. Luke's, where the family walked to services — had an intercom, and you know Jim Irsay. He loved a microphone, didn't he? Any excuse to get on that intercom was sufficient. At the first sign of snow outside, even a single flake, the house filled up with his deep, gravelly, excited voice: 'Girls, no school tomorrow!' Crying, because every story comes with an unspoken afterward. Crying, because he's gone. Doyel obituary: Jim Irsay died and we're less for it; Indianapolis, the Colts, all of us Hey Jude, don't make it bad Take a sad song and make it better Those are the first lyrics from the first song on the Jim Irsay funeral playlist — 'Hey Jude,' by The Beatles — as guests are being seated and family photos are playing across a giant video screen. Here's one of Jim and Peyton Manning at Pebble Beach. Now he's holding the Super Bowl XLI trophy alongside coach Tony Dungy. Here he is, hoisting that same trophy after receiving it from NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. Pictures with Colts chief operating officer and dear friend of decades, Pete Ward — 'We're like Lennon and McCartney,' Irsay would tell Ward, who'd respond: 'More like Lennon and Ringo' — and John Madden, and Jerry Jones, and George Bush at the White House. Did you know Jim Irsay liked to play kickball? Or wear Rudolph's red nose? Or pull up his sleeves and growl as he compared biceps with his daughters? So many pictures, more than any other kind, of Jim with his favorite people on Earth: his three daughters, and his 10 grandchildren Ten people spoke, all of whom have known Jim for decades, with one admitting they'd been considering this eulogy for 20 years because, as most knew, 'He's had some brushes with death.' We are also told how Jim Irsay took a sad song and made it better, how he befriended players on his dad's Baltimore Colts as a teenager, lifting weights with them, defending them to his alcohol-fueled, rage-filled father and being watched over in return by those 1970s NFL players, 'Because they knew growing up was hell for Jim.' The crowd was the eclectic group you'd expect of a man who befriended rockers and poets and people experiencing homelessness. There were Colts past and present, quarterbacks and kickers, punters and tight ends, more. Every one of the Colts' past 25 years of coaches: Tony Dungy, Jim Caldwell, Chuck Pagano, Frank Reich and Shane Steichen. Every front-office leader too: Bill Polian, Ryan Grigson, Chris Ballard. An eclectic mix that included high-ranking members of IMPD and Pacers executives and a handful of media: local and national, print and television. One speaker introduced himself as having met Irsay 'at a meeting.' He doesn't say what kind of meeting, then invites the crowd to join him in the 'Serenity Prayer' and calls Irsay 'a calming voice offering hope, comfort and support' at meetings. People gravitated toward him afterward, the speaker told the crowd, and Jim stuck around, giving others 'the courage to keep going.' Jim built some clubs that would hold meetings and renovated others — new carpet, nice chairs, like that — so attendees of these meetings would have a place 'where they were could feel like home.' Jim Irsay was an addict, as he talked about freely. Were there occasional headlines? Yes. It happens. The disease is cruel, and it does not discriminate. The Eastern Star Church choir is here to sing two songs, and its first selection is the 1929 hymn 'I'll Fly Away.' It starts like this: Some glad morning when this night is o'er I will fly away I will be free one day Jim Irsay is free now. Just yesterday morning they let us know you were gone… That's the third song on the pre-service playlist, that 1970 piece by James Taylor about life and death, addiction and fame. The crowd that files into the sanctuary walks past pictures of Irsay and his girls, Irsay and his grandkids, Irsay and his dog, a Maltese-Shih Tzu mix named Drake. The casket is near the pastor's pulpit, the lid a strong Colts blue, surrounded by nearly a dozen guitars and more pictures of Irsay and his family and a wreath of flowers shaped into a horseshoe. Another song: 'I am the Walrus' by The Beatles (1967). Another: 'What's Going On" by Marvin Gaye (1971). Another: 'Tired of Being Alone' by Al Green (1971). The songs are telling the story of Jim Irsay, a romantic and an optimist and a dreamer. And a realist who'd tell people, 'It's lonely at the top.' Soon John Mellencamp is playing, but not over the loudspeakers. He's right up there — next to the casket, in front of Irsay's prized drum set once played by The Beatles — having entered the sanctuary through a side door. Irsay was 24 when they met, shortly after the Colts came here from Baltimore in early 1984. Mellencamp was 32, and Irsay called him his 'big brother.' 'He was a dreamer,' Mellencamp says before he plays his first song. 'We all need to be dreamers. And he did that so well.' Mellencamp says he wrote the song he's about to play first, 'Longest Days,' for his mom. 'She lived to be 100,' he says. 'Wish I could say the same for Jimmy.' Then he's playing 'Pink Houses,' and if you're getting chills as you read those words, you're not the only one. All over St. Luke's, people in mourning are tapping their feet. Leather shoes, wing tips, high heels — they're keeping the beat. Irsay would've liked that. And this was a moment that Irsay, who talked about death quite a bit, had discussed with Mellencamp. 'He asked for this song to be played,' Mellencamp says. Doyel in 2014: Discovering Jim Irsay's private side — a heart of gold Doyel in 2022: Scars of Irsay family's mental health issues run deep. They share to heal, help. There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens: A time to be born and a time to die… Those are the first three lines from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, a scripture the family asked Dungy to read. As the nearly two-hour service unfolded, speakers kept describing the misunderstood essence of Jim Irsay in bursts of one or two sentences. No need to identify the speakers; this wasn't a news conference. This was further illumination of this city's biggest champion: 'A proud student of the school of life.' 'I'm going to miss his innocent and loving eccentricities.' 'He loved the Colts, he loved the state, and boy did he love people.' 'He was wonderfully, perfectly imperfect.' 'He'd speak to a homeless person in New York like he'd speak to one of his fellow (NFL) owners.' 'He believed in God, he believed in angels who were looking after him, and he believed that one day those angels would lead him into the arms of God.' 'I wish I could've seen it last week when he met his beloved John Lennon: 'What's up, brother!'' 'If you wanted to get on his bad side, talk down to somebody in the (Colts) building. He hated that.' 'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud Those are the first two lines of 'Shelter in the Storm,' a 1975 song by Bob Dylan, another of Irsay's beloveds. The crowd is treated to audio of Irsay introducing that song at a club in Nashville, before he sings it in a passable rendition — better than that; the man had real talent — of Dylan himself. 'Three, two, one,' Irsay says, warming up before getting started on his introduction. 'Sometimes we can be trapped in this wilderness we call the world here…' Irsay continues in that gravelly smoker's voice of his, and while there is no video, you can hear him speaking around a smile. Then he is singing, and this is the end of the service. Jim Irsay is having the last word at the Jim Irsay funeral, and guests are holding candles as several of Irsay's grandchildren walk from row to row, lighting each candle at the edge of the row, the fire being passed from mourner to mourner until there are 1,000 or more flickering lights while Irsay sings to mourners in what the ceremony program calls a 'message from Jim in heaven.' He was a fascinating man, Jim Irsay, an intellectual who studied the lives of Teddy Roosevelt and George Halas, JFK and MLK. He was the Colts' No. 1 fan, celebrating with family the team's home victories — every one of them, for years — with takeout from Hollyhock Hill restaurant on the northside. He was a girl dad, writing the song 'Lily White' about the joy of watching his babies sleep. A grainy home video of Irsay singing that song played Monday at St. Luke's, with Irsay strumming his guitar and singing over audible conversations all over the room. Someone behind camera keeps giggling as he describes his girls, these future owners of the Indianapolis Colts, in hues of white and pink. He was a romantic, Jim Irsay. A man of music, a man of dreams. 'As we all go on,' Mellencamp had said before walking out the way he came in, 'think of Jimmy from time to time and what he did for this community. And let's hope his dreams come true.' Find IndyStar columnist Gregg Doyel on Threads, or on BlueSky and Twitter at @GreggDoyelStar, or at Subscribe to the free weekly Doyel on Demand newsletter.
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Yahoo
Don Cherry Doubles Down on Stanley Cup Final Winner Pick
Don Cherry Doubles Down on Stanley Cup Final Winner Pick originally appeared on Athlon Sports. The 2025 Stanley Cup Final features a rematch between the Florida Panthers and the Edmonton Oilers, one year after Florida defeated Edmonton in seven games to win its first championship. Advertisement The NHL hasn't seen a finals rematch since 2009, when the Pittsburgh Penguins avenged their loss to the Detroit Red Wings from the season before. While not everyone is expecting history to repeat itself, legendary NHL coach and broadcaster Don Cherry thinks we'll see another revenge fulfilled. Cherry is staying firm on his prediction from earlier this spring, and he made that clear while speaking on Episode 310 of the "Don Cherry Grapevine Podcast." Florida Panthers center Sam Bennett (9) and Edmonton Oilers center Connor McDavid (97) get into a scrum in the 2024 Stanley Cup Belski-Imagn Images "I'm still sticking with Edmonton," Cherry said without hesitation when his son, Tim, asked to revisit his pick for the potential finals winner. The Oilers dropped both regular-season games against the Panthers this year. Still, Cherry isn't backing away from his original pick, even though he faced a tough question from Tim regarding the upcoming goaltending battle. Advertisement Tim Cherry suggested he'd take the Panthers' Sergei Bobrovsky over the Oilers' Stuart Skinner in a long series, to which Don Cherry responded directly. Edmonton Oilers goaltender Stuart Skinner (74) and center Connor McDavid (97) celebrate a win in the 2024 Stanley Cup Final at Rogers Belski-USA TODAY Sports via Imagn Images "Skinner's playing just as good," Cherry said about the Oilers netminder compared to Bobrovsky's postseason run. "Whether he'll do it in the finals ... we'll see." Tim Cherry, however, agreed with his father that Florida won't be able to push Edmonton around the way they did the Toronto Maple Leafs and Carolina Hurricanes, siding with his elder and backing up the Oilers on that front. Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Final is set for puck-drop at Rogers Place on Wednesday at 8 p.m. ET. Advertisement Related: Don Cherry's Big Stanley Cup Final Concern About Oilers' Stuart Skinner Related: NHL Insider Adds Fuel to Connor McDavid-Maple Leafs Speculation This story was originally reported by Athlon Sports on Jun 2, 2025, where it first appeared.
Tom's Guide
6 days ago
- Tom's Guide
3 best new Netflix movies you (probably) missed this month
Netflix adds a lot of new movies every single month, and naturally, when dozens of new additions flood the streaming service's library, some will get lost in the shuffle. May 2025 has been a slow month for new Netflix original movies, and the few that did arrive, like 'Nonnas,' went straight to No. 1, so they enjoyed plenty of attention. However, Netflix also added a bunch of older library titles this month, and a few of these didn't quite receive the interest that I had expected. So, if you think you've exhausted the 'new arrivals' section, here are three new movies added to Netflix this month that you (probably) haven't watched yet. I was a little surprised that 'Hanna' didn't make more of an impression on Netflix subscribers this month. Netflix viewers seem to gobble up action-thrillers with glee (even the bad ones, like the awful 'Midnight in the Switchgrass' which went to No. 1), and yet this 2011 assassin thriller didn't even manage to rank in the top 10 list. That's a real shame, as it's a well-crafted globe-trotting ride that packs a breakthrough performance from a young Saoirse Ronan. The eponymous Hanna (Ronan) is a 15-year-old with extraordinarily lethal skills after a childhood of training under the watch of her stern father, Erik Heller (Eric Bana), an ex-C.I.A. operative. Hanna's upbringing has shaped her into a lethal assassin, but she is forced to question everything she knows when she's dispatched to eliminate a target with ties to Erik's past, Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett). What follows is a deadly cat-and-mouse game, and as Hanna gets closer to some hidden truths about her past, her primary objective begins to shift. Watch "Hanna' on Netflix now The enigmatic Coen Brothers are most fondly known for their work on movies like 'The Big Lebowski,' 'Fargo' and 'No Country for Old Men.' Those are all fantastic flicks and have earned deserved plaudits, but for my money, 'Burn After Reading' is the directing duo's most overlooked film. This black comedy packs an all-star cast with George Clooney, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, John Malkovich and Brad Pitt all in the mix. Plus, it boasts a charmingly irreverent tone and the Coens' usual habit of writing laser-sharp scripts. It's a real hoot and a half. Osbourne Cox (Malkovich) is a retired CIA analyst who decides to write his memoir. Meanwhile, his wife (Swinton) is having an affair with U.S. Marshal Harry (Clooney). When a CD with Osbourne's first memoir draft is left behind in a gym locker room and found by two bumbling employees (Pitt and McDormand), the pair think they've found the perfect get-rich-quick scheme. They plan to blackmail Osbourne for the return of what they believe to be classified government information. It all leads to a messy knot of hilarious mix-ups, melodrama and unexpected consequences for all parties involved. Watch "Burn After Reading' on Netflix now 'Train to Busan' is another case where I'm more than a little surprised that the movie didn't make a real impact on the Netflix top 10 list. Perhaps it's the fact that this is a Korean movie, so it does require watching with subtitles, but that's a tiny barrier that shouldn't deny anybody entry. For those who have watched, they'll know it's a titan of the zombie genre for good reason, delivering past-faced thrills and a frighteningly plausible vision of the apocalypse. The 2016 movie sees Soek-Woo (Gong Yoo) board a high-speed train from Seoul to Busan with his daughter. As they make their way to their destination, an apocalyptic event breaks out, and flesh-eating zombies emerge. The train journey becomes a non-stop nightmare as passengers face a battle for survival against threats both inside and outside the train. Rarely dropping the intensity levels for a moment, 'Train to Busan' is a first-class action-horror. Watch "Train to Busan' on Netflix now
