SIDE STREETS: Welcome to the Greatest Neighborhood on Earth!

Think your neighbor’s a clown? You’ve got nothing on Paul Lanquist and Mike Murphy. Their neighbors are a real bunch of clowns.

Not the kind of guys who run chainsaws at dawn. Or play basketball outside your bedroom at midnight.

We’re talking pie-in-your-face, seltzer-water-down-your-pants, “Greatest Show on Earth” clowns.

Paul and Mike are among the 300 or so staff and performers who live on the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus train.

How cool is that? (See them on my blog)

“I love it,” said Paul, 59, a former zebra handler who now works as a porter. “It’s a great life.”

And not an HOA in sight! (If they had one, I'm guessing the lion tamer would run it.)

For a week every year, the circus train is the most unique neighborhood in town. (Not exactly a side street. More of a side rail.)

From their arrival Tuesday until they pulled out after Sunday’s final performance, the 30 silver coach cars where Paul, Mike and the rest live were parked along Monument Valley Park.

There are 21 others cars for animals and equipment.

The “neighborhood” stretched a half-mile from the I-25 pedestrian bridge north to Uintah Street near Coaltrain Wine & Liquor.

(Clowns being clowns, I’m guessing Coaltrain gets quite a windfall during the week. Maybe it ought to change its name to Circus Train Wine & Liquor when Ringling Bros. is in town.)

Mike, 41, works in transportation. He said each coach houses 14 living quarters, the size of small college dorm rooms. They come with a bed, table, closet, and microwave oven.

Most staff, like Mike and Paul, bring TVs. Some even have satellite dishes attached to the side of the train. Computers are common in the coaches.

Newcomers to the circus get small rooms in the “low end” of the train, Mike said. Those who have been with the circus longer — Paul and Mike have 10 years each with Ringling Bros. — get larger quarters.

They pay about $1 a day for housing. There are community bathrooms and a “pie car” for dining.

Some in the circus drive their own cars and camp alongside it. Some hop off the train and stay in motels.

Many bring bicycles (you were expecting unicycles?) to explore the 40 or so cities the circus visits every year.

Walking along the train, there were children’s bikes and toys visible, like any other neighborhood.

During the day, the trains emptied as folks got out and about. After the show, most returned to the train.

“There’s barbecues at night and people get together,” Mike said. “But generally the performers and dancers tend to stick together. There are other cliques.”

Then there’s those clowns.

“They are off the wall,” Paul said. “They like pranks. You never know what the clowns are planning.

“Don’t let them know your birthday. They like birthday parties.

“You’ve heard of the pie in the face? You’ll get one!”

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