Does winter have you down, my friend?

Turn that frown upside down, buckaroo, because in just 57 days, the circus comes to the Family Arena in St. Charles Who doesn't love the circus? I mean, besides me.

I have a couple of issues when it comes to circuses (circi?). When the kids were smaller and brought home free circus tickets from school, the Lil Missus and I were ecstatic even though it wasn't a name-brand circus (I think it was something along the lines of "Ed's Amazing Circus — Now Featuring Mostly Live Animals!").

But once we paid the equivalent of a month's car payment to park a half-mile away, and bought some questionable popcorn that may or may not have been brought to St. Charles from the previous night's show in Des Moines, the free circus was no longer free.

Halfway through the first act they brought out some adorable petting zoo animals and announced over the speakers: "Kids, ask your parents for $5 and come down and pet our furry friends!"

Really? I realize it's a business and they have to make money, but enlisting kids to be your henchmen?

My bigger issue with the circus is a personal one. As a child I attended a circus and had the privilege of riding an elephant. My parents thought it would be a good experience for me to hop atop the saggy baggy behemoth for a guided circular tour. The elephant handlers would cram as many kids as they could on top of the elephant and lead it around a small circle a few times. Instead of riding on the elephant's back, it was so crowded that I was actually straddling the poor elephant's neck. I was therefore the closest kid to the elephant's mouth, a fact which was not lost on me.

I could tell the elephant wasn't happy and was probably thinking, "Why did they stick this lanky big-headed kid on my neck? I may eat him!"

Since then, I've always cast a suspicious eye when in the presence of elephants. I know Elephant Nation is planning a big revenge stampede against the neck-riding boy. At some point when I'm with the family enjoying a circus, all heck is going to break out and I'm going to have to push down old ladies and small children to get out of the arena before I'm trampled.

Then a television reporter will corner me in the parking lot and ask, "Sir, what happened in there?"

And I'll say, "I knew those sneaky elephants were plotting their revenge all along! They spotted me in the crowd and the big female lost her mind and said, 'Look! Up there in Section 301, row B, seat 5! Let's get that pain in the neck, girls!' And then all those elephants went berserk and well, that's when I left rather expeditiously."

Then the reporter will say, "Sir, what about your family?"

I'll say, "My who?" And then I'll remember my family, but they will act like they don't know me when I go back inside the arena to get them.

Can you blame them?

Scott Beck of St. Charles is a Web page specialist for a health foundation in St. Louis. He writes a semimonthly column for the Journal.