The circus was playing Detroit and Joe Gold was there to advance the show when the shit hit the Cadillac.
“My two best stories have to do with manure. And we were the talk of the town both times,” Joe says of his years as regional marketing director for Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey.
It was the early 80s. Joe had been in Detroit for a while, living the hotel life and driving a Cadillac, both trade deals, while he built up momentum for the circus. Now it was showtime.
“You’d do the animal walk on Tuesday and the show would either open Tuesday night or Wednesday,” he recalls. “I knew certain performers would get there Monday. How can we take advantage of that?”
One of the acts that came in on Monday this time was Wally Naughton’s bear act.
That Monday, he had Wally walk one of the bears, Tuffy, into the hotel, approach the front desk and have the bear register with his paw print, all possible in that pre-computer age. The press was invited to witness this, of course, and the next day, Tuesday, Tuffy “checking in” was on the front page of the Detroit Free Press.
For a publicist like Joe, it was a dream come true. The pay-off was immediate. Joe got a call that morning from TV’s Kelly and Company, a show with a 47-share rating, meaning 47 percent of the people watching TV were watching Kelly when the show was on.
“Can we book the bear on Thursday’s show?”
“No problem.”
“Great, but we don’t have a car for a bear.”
“No problem, use mine. He’ll be there in a big red Cadillac.”
It was October. It was cold in Detroit, which can also be a dangerous city. The Cadillac windows were rolled up to keep everyone cozy and safe.
When the bear and handler/publicist came back to the arena, where the show was about to start, Joe asked how it went.
“Great. Just one problem. The bear shit in the back of your car.”
“Did the trainer clean it up?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
At 10:30 that night, the show ended and Joe went out to his car.
“The smell was disgusting. I had to open all four windows in downtown Detroit. When I got to the hotel, the doorman said, ‘Joe, welcome back.’ I gave him the keys. He just looked at me. ‘Hey, a bear shit in my car.’”
The second story revolves around a manure giveaway — and takes us all the way to Ben Bradlee, the legendary editor of the Washington Post.
The free gift was Pachyderm Poo. Zoos do Zoo Doo to this day. The promotion always included an elaborate set-up, with media drops of the ingredients – bread, vegetables, water and straw — needed to make your cucumbers the size of watermelons, radishes the size of tomatoes. The only thing missing is the elephant to process this so your garden would be bountiful.
Ringling was in Washington, D.C., on April Fool’s Day, so Joe decided to add a new element to the promotion this time. The poo was packaged in silver Ringling Bros. bags. The giveaway was publicized for noon.
“But I made sure we put the bags out at 11 a.m. I knew some people would come out early and take them. Then I called the D.C. police and reported a crime.”
“What’s the value of the stolen merchandise?”
“Nothing.”
“So why are you calling me?”
“Because people are going to show up at noon and wonder where it is. It’s been stolen.”
The stunt made the news everywhere. It was the biggest crime in Washington. Joe is from Washington, and his parents lived there. He was interviewed on Channel 7 News and called his parents to watch Joe Gold, Manure Expert, being interviewed. Johnny Carson talked about it that night on TV’s “Tonight Show.”
And he was interviewed by the Washington Post. When Joe asked the reporter when it would be published, she said, “Tomorrow.”
The next day he called again: same answer.
The third day, the answer changed. It wasn’t going to run.
“Ben Bradlee said the Washington Post doesn’t write about shit.”
Those were some fun times for Joe Gold, who is a publicity guru with his Gold Group today. The front page of the Detroit Free Press meant something when everybody read the paper. When you’re on the news in Washington, D.C., on every station and they’re talking about manure theft, it was all sort of Barnum-esque. “We do it differently now, but then, with the circus, you could do anything.”
“My wife and I joined the Corinthian Yacht Club years ago here in Massachusetts. We went to the cocktail reception to meet the people, where you find out whether you’re worthy or not. I said to our sponsor, ‘Is circus a plus or minus with this crowd?’ She said, ‘I have no idea.’ Turned into a huge plus because it’s a conversation starter.” — Based on a true story as told to Linda Deckard
PHOTO: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey marketing team in the Eighties and Nineties included, from left, Scott Smith, Bill Powell, Mike Franks (behind), Ken Wachter, Joe Gold, Performer Gunther Gebel Williams, Allen Bloom, Art Ricker and Richard Adler. Courtesy of Bill Powell
[Editor’s Note: Joe Gold was among a legion of Advance Professionals inducted into the Circus Ring of Fame in Sarasota, Fla., in February 2022. For more circus stories, stay tuned here and check out the May-June issue of Venue Pro, the International Association of Assembly Manager’s bimonthly magazine.]
Next up, Ken Wachter.