He wasn't just a Bozo but the biggest Bozo of 'em all

Bozo is dead. We got the bad news on Thursday when it was cofirmed that Larry Harmon -- who turned Bozo the Clown into a TV star and American icon -- had succumbed to congestive heart failure at age 83. It's a sad day for Bozo lovers the world over.

And naturally, I happen to have a personal story about Harmon I feel compelled to share.

I think it was back sometime in the early '80s when the "No Bozos!" campaign was unveiled and quickly became a catchphrase complete with its own logo -- a picture of a cartoon Bozo with a slash through it. Nobody wanted to be a Bozo in those days, it seemed. The truth, however, is that I was concerned -- honestly concerned -- that Harmon, the only Bozo who ever really mattered, might be offended by all of this "No Bozos!" blasphemy.

Then it occurred to me that Harmon wasn't just Bozo but a businessman who had licensed the Bozo likeness; ergo, "No Bozos!" couldn't possibly be happening without his enthusiastic support or it'd be in violation of all sorts of copyrights and all of that. It happened that I was correct. Harmon was in fact behind this entire marketing effort, which struck me as more than a little bit curious. I mean, wasn't the point of this to tell people not to be like him?

My curiosity piqued, and given that I was a reporter for the Los Angeles Daily News at the time, I rang up Harmon to get the scoop straight from the Bozo's mouth.

Me: "But aren't you in fact saying with 'No Bozos!' that it's bad to be like you, that people shouldn't want you around, that acting like Bozo is something to be avoided at all costs?"

Harmon: "No! No! No! I'm not telling people not to be like the Bozo, I'm just telling them not to be a Bozo. You see the difference?"

Me: "Actually, no, I'm afraid I really don't. How would being a Bozo be different from being you? If I'm a jerk, and you're named Jerk the Clown, and there was suddenly a campaign that said 'No Jerks!', I'd assume that was a warning against acting in a jerky fashion and that you were in fact the chief ringleader of that behavior."

Harmon grew increasingly exasperated, convinced I just wasn't getting it.

Harmon: "Look, all we're saying here is that Bozos are bad, but Bozo is good. There's only one Bozo, OK? That's me. I'm telling everyone not to be a Bozo, that's all. It's really simple."

Me: "But that's my point! How can you be a positive role model yet still insist that those who behave in a Bozo-like fashion are in fact being negative and annoying?"

This little dance went on for quite some time, and my paper wound up running the piece as a Q&A. I honestly wasn't trying to humiliate the man, simply have a bit of fun at his expense. And I mean, he was making tons of money off of this; I was merely pointing up the strangeness of his having it both ways.

Oddly, I seemed to be the only one who picked up on this particular dispcrepancy, indicating I clearly had far too much time on my hands. And in the end, Harmon was a good sport. He called me up after the piece ran to tell me he thought it was pretty funny after all and that, in fact, I made a pretty good point. That, I thought, took some self-awareness that impressed me way more than the nightmare orange hair, the colored grease paint and the bulbous red nose.

So rest in peace, Bozo. You were indeed a clown among clowns.

Comments

[...tom...]

...
Bozo is dead. Long live Bozo.

I miss him already.

...tom...
.