Whether he is in a tutu-clad fat suit, dancing in front of happy rodeo fans, or cracking jokes while cowboys get ready, rodeo clown JJ Harrison is always hoping to bring a smile to the faces of bull-riding fans.

The Walla Walla, Wash. resident, who has been a full-time rodeo clown since walking away from teaching in 2008, recently was invited to the 2012 Wrangler National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas this December.

The event, which runs from Dec. 6 to Dec. 15, invites the United States’ top 15 cowboys to compete in several rodeo events. 

Harrison was invited thanks to the rodeo announcers, barrel men and bullfighters of America. They voted for him, and he is happy for the opportunity.

“I look at it as a huge compliment,” Harrison said. “It’s the highest-paying rodeo for contestants. Not for me. I mean, I don’t do bad, but it isn’t the highest paying for me.”

The friendly, kid-loving Harrison spends the majority of the touring season in Montana, but travels year-round and has quickly become one of the most well-known rodeo clowns in the country.

And it’s an unlikely story how he got there.

Harrison received a call from a desperate friend who needed a clown for a rodeo show.

“I kind of thought clowns were stupid, I had no interest in doing it,” Harrison said. 

   Then his friend offered to pay him $50. That was more convincing.

A natural entertainer, Harrison was surprised by how much he enjoyed dancing around in the arena.

“I had a lot of fun,” he said. “It was in my wheelhouse just being goofy in front of fans.”

Harrison, 37, walked away from his teaching career in Walla Walla in 2008. He taught middle school social studies, and says he might return to it someday.

“There are guys who do this job into their 60s, and not to put them down, but I’m too smart for that,” he said. “This is a job where you have to be physically active. You have to be able to run and jump.”

“I don’t ever want to not be good at this job.”

A constant presence at large rodeos in Kennewick, Wash., Billings, and Sisters, Ore., Harrison said he prefers smaller communities where he builds connections. Libby is one of these.

Harrison has become a hot commodity on the rodeo circuit for his antics and quick wit, and has the ability to make more money than he currently does. But he claims he turns down around three rodeos a year just to make a trip to Libby.

Even though he gave up teaching, Harrison has a deep connection to children, and still wants to be a good role model for the kids that see him at shows.

The Coors Brewing Co. pays rodeo clowns to use a barrel that looks like a Coors can. It can be a nice sum that supplements a non-guaranteed income. Harrison has resisted the temptation on principle.

“Rodeo is a tough-guy, drinking, chewing image,” he said. “I try to buck that. I want to be a positive role model. Any media a kid sees, there is something negative.”

Harrison is married to Melissa Harrison and has a 4-year-old son, Huckleberry “Huck” Harrison, so family and children have become even more important. 

But despite the joy he gets from his job and the kids he makes smile, he does deal with pressure.

“I still get extremely nervous,” Harrison said. “I rely on my wit to make things funny. There’s no question, I’m funnier some days than others.” 

One of his most popular bits is the fat-suit, an inflatable body suit that always draws giggles from the stands. He saw the suits at Kmart and knew he had to make a buy. 

But the real humor of his show comes from improvisation. 

Harrison tells a story from when he was in Libby and a rider taking a victory lap fell on his rump. 

“The more I can push on that macho cowboy image that guys give off, the funnier it is,” he said. “Not everyone is a cowboy, but everyone knows what it is like to be entertained.”

Part of his love of Libby comes from the Andreessen family at Timberline Auto and Dusti Thompson, the rodeo organizer.

But Las Vegas isn’t Libby, and 19,000 fans will expect to be entertained for 10 days by JJ in the Thomas & Mack Center.

He isn’t worried.

“It’s a big building, but a very small arena,” he said. “They really cut down on the role of the rodeo clown. I’m just honored to be there.”