Class Clown

~ Geoff Stamper

As a student, my identity was based on my major (which was selected to best avoid 8:00am classes). As an employee, my occupation defined me even though Administrative Coordinator seemed meaningless. Labels oversimplify but can be useful. Retirement introduced “what I used to be.” Sometimes I choose “famous Blogger,” tempting doubters to visit and view my posts. Class Clown is my default self-descriptor. It outlives being a student and hints at what I am not: jock, artist, intellectual, technology nerd, ladies man. And claiming “Class Clown” validates the assertion.

At a party hosted by a Renaissance Man (doctor/winemaker/author/sculptor) I have known since high school, I introduced myself to a couple who knew him when the husbands worked together as doctors and socialized as hunters. I mentioned that our host was Student Body President when I was Class Clown and praised him for remembering the little people as he climbed the ladder of success. The host rotated into our group and his doctor friend repeated my words without my witty inflections. Renaissance Man denied I was Class Clown and named the person who was in a hushed tone that suggested it was not an honor. He may have been teaching me a lesson about fishing for compliments with self deprecation because he did not offer anything “more” that I was. So I graciously and apologetically conceded to being merely a Wannabe Class Clown. Our mini-group quickly dispersed.

I learned survivors tell the stories when I once referred to being class Salutatorian to a distinguished fellow alum who did not recognize it as an outrageous joke. I also had no idea who our Salutatorian was, so if I can outlive enough people, one day I may even become Student Body President. I will appoint my best friend Class Clown.

77 thoughts on “Class Clown”

    3. A long time ago I learned that whenever there’s in doubt, it’s best to take what was said as a compliment. Even if it’s a infinitesimal sliver of a doubt, it’s better to err on the side of a compliment 😁 Makes me happier …

      But on a more serious note, you’re bringing up an intriguing point about labels in general and how much they define us, giving others power over us?

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  2. Labels can be dangerous. As a single older woman who lives with cats, I’m sure my neighbors refer to me as the “Crazy Cat Lady”. They won’t dare do it to my face, because I am also a “Bitch” who claps back. But to me I am a caring soul who seeks to love and be loved without condition.

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  3. “I doesn’t hurt me to remember you at all, man, ’cause it makes me think of cool cars, pretty girls, and parties driven by that quadraphonic stereo.” Quadraphonic stereo is an oxymoron, I believe. In high school there was an incident where I was bounced from the football team for a game, for reasons I originally lied about that only later became known to a few. As a result of the innuendo cascade I was voted, by a bunch of future doctors, lawyers, lesbians who became both, Indian Chiefs, oil magnates and Stepford wives as most likely to become “vice” president. Since I walked college and the whole scene surrounding my youth and yet did not end up in a cardboard condo under a freeway overpass I, as mentioned before, refer to myself in garden party situations as being a “corporate musician” which sends the “oh, dear that’s too… different” crowd scampering to bolster the punch and saves me a lot of talk I couldn’t make in front of squares anyway. However, I have gotten off two Valedictorian jabs in my latest serial. Just because your daddy owns the compound across the street from the country club doesn’t make you smart. Or does it?

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  5. Thank you for inspiring me to do a post on different types of classmates. I heard of Renaissance Man several times before, but didn’t bother to look it up due to the hard-to-spell first word. I assumed it is a person like Da Vinci who could do science, art, literature etc. Now I looked it up and it means almost the same as I thought. Since I have been tricked by English words too many times, I am usually quite diffident in my guessing capabilities, but this time I was right. Now you piqued my interest. Who’s the class clown acknowledged by others? And what did he do to make him fall from being honored? I have to say you are an expert teaser who always hints at something more interesting hidden behind what you explicitly write.

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    1. I think the term Renaissance Man may have been coined to describe Da Vinci but I am too lazy to look that up. Restricting myself to 300 word essays does cause some of my teasing and hinting because I often cut quite a bit to get my final draft under the limit. I like how you get everything interesting into your posts.

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      1. I remember your previous posts about the “300 word limit”. I think you also mentioned that you had very interesting teachers in your school. Your fans (like me for example) are interested to know your stories…

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  6. I was catapulted from anonymous dweeb to cool kid after my family moved from OR to KS the year I would have passed from Junior to High School. That’s Sophomore, BTW.
    Somehow, I managed to use the caché and the resources saved from no longer having to avoid getting stuffed in lockers from that move to strategically place myself third in my class’ academic rankings, shrewdly avoiding public speaking obligations with that accomplishment.
    So while I cannot say I was Valedic or Saluda anything, I can say “third”…even though that move also changed my class size from hundreds to dozens. The reality of the scenario is that I was one of three in my class to graduate in the top 10%! I am the Thirdatorian.

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    1. A bronze medal is always a great accomplishment because 4th place gets you nothing. My three sons were 11-16 years old when I moved them from WA to KS. They still hate me for it. But the youngest was elected Student Body President, so how bad could it have been?

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  8. Now that I retired, I am a consultant. Nobody can argue with me or claim I am overpaid (even tho I don’t get paid AT ALL!😪), but it leaves everyone at the party wishing they had my job. 😁

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  10. I was a diligent student in Art and English, less in History, half class clown half bored back (desk) seat passenger in pretty much everything else bar Maths. There, full on class clown, ’cause I couldn’t make sense of a damn fool word the Maths Bas- Master said. Or sprayed. Or bellowed. My art teacher was a hero, my Maths teacher, who shall remain nameless, the lowest level of zero possible. (No hard feelings after all this time, Mr Filer, you old misery? Oops!)

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  14. I also consider myself the self-appointed class clown. I am able to keep the title by avoiding hanging out with anyone who might call such a claim into question. And in my mind, such a title is quite an honor…

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  16. Isn’t there some kind of Academy Award for “Wannabe Class Clowns?”

    I’m reminded of the line from Dumb and Dumber. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”🤣

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  19. In high school I felt like an invisible man. Cool enough to have friends in every clique but quiet enough to not be noticed in general. Going to one of my reunions I was actually asked if I was at the right reunion (I put that on aging gracefully where as my classmates tanned, smoked and drank their way quicker into looking older than they are)

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  20. I have always been intrigued by how some people cling onto their given or even self-appointed titles for dear life while others could care less how they are categorized by and to others. I hovered somewhere in the middle when I was younger, but as I got older and acquired more life experiences I realized those who latched onto descriptive roles were usually the people you didn’t care much for anyway.

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  21. When I think of clowns, I think of John Wayne Gacy. So does that mean a Class Clown is a Class Gacy? or perhaps a Class Serial Killer? Speaking of class, what does class have to do with it anyway? “That’s a Gacy question bro” – Bryce Harper

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  23. I was the class clown at both school and college too. It was the way to survive back then. Years later l would be diagnosed with Aspergers and then come to realise that being class clown was to have people laugh at me for my funny antics rather than laugh at me for my strangeways of being a human.

    People are more overrated at times than labels which are overrated anyway, but people over complicate the simplicity in life and then create and criticise the simples.

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  24. It sounds like you were the victim of a stolen election for class clown long before such a thing became fashionable in either 2016 or 2020, depending on your politics.

    You also remind me that there are too many people who lack a sense of humor. My grandmother once referred to a pleasant relative who never did much of anything as “a gentleman”. Maybe that could be of use for the humor impaired.

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