I never had to be asked twice what I wanted to do. As a little girl on the sidelines watching my father, I knew from a very young age that’s what I wanted to do. Not following my father’s footsteps, obviously he wore really big shoes, but to go up in the air at some point in my life, and I did. My father was with Ringling for over 60 years. He made his mark there. But his face and his clown makeup that he created is not just known in America but around the world. But more so than just his face, when he performed, he was an inventive comedian. He had the motorized little car, which is on display at the Ringling Museum. There’s a replica there if you want to try to get in it yourself. He had a motorized baby buggy, motorized bathtub, motorized hospital bed and all his vehicles went around the hippodrome track. Every year or so, he would create a new gag for Ringling Brothers. One year he had a little pup from the pound, her name was Knucklehead. He put little rabbit ears on her and he went a-hunting. That gag warmed the hearts of all the kids. He even performed at Madison Square Garden when he was at the very top of his fame. I remember a story he told. He was coming home on the train, without his makeup obviously, and sitting next to a family. The father was saying to the son, “What was your favorite part?”  The son says, “Oh, it was when that big clown got out of that little car.” And they didn’t know he was sitting right next to them. You don’t realize until you get older the impact that your parents have on your life. I feel fortunate about the parents that I had and the exposure that I was given. People often ask me why I didn’t become a clown. Well, you have to find what’s deep inside you, that fire of desire that you have. Mine was to be the girl on the flying trapeze. I learned from my father by watching him, watching how he performed. As soon as he went through the curtain, he was on.