Homeless in Vancouver: The scary old clown in the cute old house

Months ago I photographed the cutest little house—the kind you just want to hug. I didn’t realize at the time it was also home to one of the great former talents of our age.

I found the sight of the great clown-comedian—little more than skin and bones—almost shocking. The years had not been kind.

Relaxing on his veranda, surrounded by some of his famous props, he looked more like a macabre Halloween display than a former star of stage and screen.

Advice to young clowns—don’t grow old

He’s all but forgotten now, having retired decades ago. But despite a life of hard-drinking, carousing and skydiving, he lives on.

“The joke was on me. I outlived my @%**#& audience for @%& sakes,” he wheezed.

The world may have forgotten his triumphs but the comic thespian hasn’t. Most days he just sits on his front porch reliving his glory days.

And when he dozes off he dreams he’s back on the big stages of the world performing to sold out houses—such hits as his comic Hamlet.

“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of…”

He can’t finish before giving in to fit of coughing laughter as he remembers the gag bits that follow.

“That Shakespeare guy, he stole some of his best stuff from me”, he says, delivering a line that always got a laugh out of the talk show audiences.

“Ah it @%**#&! sucks to grow old,” he tells me.

I agreed and before taking my leave I complimented him on already having his Christmas lights up.

“That’s a laugh”, he said. “I never take them down”.