Forever Youngstown

Rust Belt. That is what they call the swath of onetime manufacturing hubs in the Midwest: Detroit, Cleveland, Akron, Pittsburgh. These cities certainly have an edge of rust to them, as once bustling city centers collect dust, dilapidation, and depression. Factories have closed, yet they still waste a lot of space, like big hulking tombstones bearing homage to bygone good years. People flee the cities for the suburbs, and who can blame them? So, while the Rust Belt burghs have tried hard to shake off the rust, it has been easier said than done.

Nowhere is that more apparent than Youngstown, Ohio, a former steel-producing giant that may be the buckle of the Rust Belt between Cleveland and Pittsburgh. This past weekend I walked about Youngstown for the first time in years, in town for the Cirque de Soleil, which took place at the Chevrolet Center. It felt like I walked into the Twilight Zone. It was a Saturday afternoon, and yet the downtown was deserted. Shops were closed, and the streets were bare. There may as well have been tumbleweed blowing among the ashen buildings and dead streets. I could have streaked the city pantless and nobody would have batted an eye...there was no one there to appreciate such art.

Actually, there were some art afficionados in town, but they were there for the Cirque de Soleil, as was I. So I left the eerie avenues of Youngstown behind and took in the circus. Wow, what an experience. It was as colorful as Youngstown was colorless, with leaping, wheeling, dancing bodies garbed in all the colors of the rainbow wowing the crowd to the accompaniment of surreal tunes. In my younger, stupider days, I used to belittle dancers as sissies and wussies. Ah, no more - any one of these performers could have kicked my ass...and looked good doing so. The tricks and stunts they pulled were tremendous, and my big mouth was open nearly the entire time. It was a sublime mindfuck that was definitely worth the trip.

So I left the circus arm in arm with my favorite clown, Joy, and we walked into the bored yawn that is Youngstown. Strange, but it didn't seem such a downer anymore. If it was dead, it was also at peace. And so were we, as we walked off into the gray night, visions of the circus dancing in our heads, whispering our silent farewells to the silent town, while the clowncars sped off to their next performance.