On April 7, 2018 I had the experience of a lifetime. My clown alter-ego, Alfonzo the Conjuring Fool, was blessed with the opportunity to sing A Simple Song from Leonard Bernstein’s Mass in memory of Kay Jorgensen, Co-Founder of the Faithful Fools Street Ministry in San Francisco. Kay had transitioned from this life on January 15, and the song was a tribute to Kay and her extraordinary ministry. A Simple Song was Kay’s personal favorite, so I wore a foolscap that once belonged to her.

Personally, the song presented certain artistic challenges. Bernstein was composing a Mass, and in 1971, patriarchal language and the “Lord” language of kingship was more acceptable than it is today among progressive people of faith. The mystical panentheism of my own Christian identity is entirely incompatible with images of god that evoke male powers and principalities. Yet the responsibility of singers in any era is to respect the artistic and cultural sensibilities of composers, along with the unchallenged assumptions of their time. So I did my best to let the piece speak for itself and channel the beauty of the disjunctive melody, the jazzy harmonies, and the polymetric spice. If it was Kay’s favorite, that was good enough for me.

Fools Melissa Fafarman, Alfonzo, and Ade Kroll take a moment before the program begins.

The assembled artists, choristers, poets, playwrights, actors, soloists, and justice advocates at the Unitarian Universalist Church of San Francisco (UUSF) truly delivered a night to remember. The gathered community of fools made it easy and fun for Alf. At the Faithful Fools, heart wisdom, expression, and celebration are much more important than competition or celebrity. Bill Ganz on piano and Cricket Rothrum on flute made it magical. The makeup artistry of Esmé Rodriguez—one of the greatest drag queens in this world or any other—manifested my inner clown as never before.

Trina, Esmé, and an emergent Alf after the makeup session.

Mark Sumner organized the music program with elegance and grace, and Hy Carrell juggled the logistical pieces as only a good stage manager can.

As Meg Whitaker-Greene said in her own clown persona, Entonces: “Kay is still walking that high tightrope, gazing down on us to see what we’ll all do next.” As Kay herself would often say, “There is plenty of work to be done before we can dissolve these illusory walls of separation.”

So we set ourselves to the task of learning (and relearning) the art of falling down spectacularly and getting up with a smile. Of such is the work of fools and clowns everywhere.

Requiesce in pace.