lowning around: Crissy Melnitzke, a newcomer to the world of clown arts, earns Clown of the Year

WINTER HAVEN — Crissy Melnitzke has spent the better part of 10 years perfecting her alter ego — Miz Daisy — a perpetually smiling clown with a mop of hot-pink hair who sings silly songs and strums a ukulele.

Although still a work in progress, Melnitzke’s shtick is polished enough to warrant the title of Clowns of America International’s 2017 Clown of the Year.

It’s a notable accomplishment for the Winter Haven woman, a relative newcomer to the world of clown arts who juggles her clowning while holding a part-time job as hairdresser, and being a wife and mom to an 11-year-old.

“I would have thought you’d have to be clowning for years” to reach Clown of the Year status, said Melnitzke, who turns 47 on Tuesday. “It’s an honor. They see me as an example, (someone) who puts the makeup on and does it right for the right reasons. It’s not about you, it’s about smiles, love and laughter.”

The title carries more than just bragging rights and a cover photo on COAI’s January-February issue of The New Calliope magazine; it’s evidence of having reached the pinnacle of the profession, said Albin “Big Al” Pelski, co-founder of Toby the Clown Foundation Inc., which operates a school and museum in Lake Placid dedicated to perpetuating the art of clowning.

“That’s a once in a lifetime (award),” he said. “That’s very rare. It goes beyond just working hard. She has endless energy. I’ve never met anybody like her.”

An Ohio native and former Air Force pharmacy technician, Melnitzke discovered a love for clowning some 10 years ago on a whim. After some research, she visited a thrift store and pieced together a rudimentary costume, complete with a green wig. She made her own pants and experimented with makeup.

Mostly as a lark, Melnitzke agreed to entertain at a party of pet owners and their dogs. She brought along a bag of balloons, twisting them into animal shapes. And she held a magical dog leash strapped to an invisible pooch. As she recalls, she had a blast.

“It was so silly,” she said.

The job led to a birthday party for a young girl and her friends. This time, Melnitzke brought along enough makeup to paint faces. As she accepted more and more jobs, she discovered how liberating it can be to clown around in disguise.

Melnitzke’s passion blossomed at the Lake Placid clown school named for co-founder Keith “Toby” Stokes, 94, a former Shriners clown and the recipient of a lifetime achievement award from COAI, its highest honor.

Stokes said Melnitzke was one of his more gifted students. “She’s like a sponge, “ he said. “If you teach her something she remembers it, and she improves upon it. She has a natural ability. I’m so pleased with her.”

After graduating Stokes’ 24-hour course, Melnitzke continued fine-tuning her clown persona, building skits and adding simple, silly magic tricks. She said she’s not much of a juggler, but she plays a mean ukulele. On occasion she’ll dress up as other characters, including Ida Know, a sassy, grandmotherly clown.

Having accumulated dozens of awards in COAI-sponsored competitions, including 2014 Best of Clown award at the organization’s annual convention, Melnitzke’s Miz Daisy attracted the attention of peers.

“Crissy has gone above and beyond the norm in promoting clowning and COAI,” the organization said in a news release.

According to Stokes, Melnitzke exemplifies the motto of his foundation: Smiles, love and laughter, that’s what we’re after.

“She’s got a lot of responsibility at home, too, you’ve got to admire a person like that,” he said. “Clowning is an art that you have to learn, you can’t just put on a silly face and try to be funny. She learned it so easily.”

Melnitzke hopes to work more and more at clowning, and give up styling hair altogether. She spends some of her free time honing her skits, writing songs and staying plugged in to the profession through conventions and internet conferences.

“I can be an extrovert for a while,” she said. “I love it, hearing the giggles of the kids, and when they rush to you and (hug) your legs. I love little people and old people. As adults, we just don’t laugh as much.”

Eric Pera can be reached at eric.pera@theledger.com or 863-802-7528.