has its producing clowns—the idea men—trainers and critics who pass on the merits of an act before it is offered to the public.
Myron "Buck" Baker at the Wheel of His Famous Flivver That Runs on Its Hind Wheels, Chases Him and Performs Other Tricks Developed from a Thorough Knowledge of Auto Mechanics
Long before he joined the circus, Baker was a trick bicycle rider. He discovered that unexpected mechanical feats brought thrills as well as laughs. When the automobile came along, he seized upon it, altered its normal working parts, disguised it and otherwise changed it until he had developed it into a star circus performer. one of the most effective on the entire lists, not excepting the trained animals and the acrobats. Henry Ford once told him that he "was the only man he knew who could get more out of a Ford car than was put into it."
Baker stages seven acts with his trick autos. They fall apart, explode, apparently obey commands without a human driver as well as with one, and do other amazing stunts, but everyone of them is based on mechanical processes that Baker has carefully worked out, tested and improved in his "laugh laboratory" at Sarasota, Fla., where the circus has its winter quarters. While animal trainers are rehearsing and caring for their pets, Baker looks after his squad of trick automobiles. He has invented more than a score of special attachments and several devices for general use, not associated with the circus. One of these is a lifting rack for garages, an idea he worked out from his experiments with automobile tricks.
"Why do people laugh at the cars?" Baker replied while tuning up for a recent performance. "I've wondered about that myself sometimes and I'm not sure I know.
"Laughter is a mystery, I guess. I sometimes work out an elaborate stunt that I think is funny, but it doesn't go across half as well, may be, as a simple little thing like an unexpected back fire. I figure this is because the more complex stunts are hard to follow, people are busy watching other things, and then a lot of them have had experience with balky cars. When they see me in trouble with mine, it tickles them. They laugh at me and not at the car. Of course, they know that I am making the car back-fire on purpose. but the stunt seems to recall unpleasant experiences of their own and they're glad they don't have to worry about the car that won't run."
