Recollections

I've had the great pleasure of performing in three different venues in September this year. (It would have been five, but two were rained out. Drat.) I thought you'd like to hear about some of the lovely things that happened to me on these gigs.

Hanover Chili Cook-Off
A great community-building event: local restaurants, community groups, and whomever else, set up tents on a fairground and cook up their favorite chili recipes. For a small fee, visitors are given a small plastic cup of chili at each tent, then given a ballot to vote for their favorite. To wash down the chili, visitors can also purchase a large plastic cup of beer.

Hmmm.... small plastic cup of chili. Large plastic cup of beer. Yup, sounds like a good time to me!

My first assignment was to put on a show in front of the music stage while Band #1 took down their sound equipment and Band #2 set up theirs. I spent the first 5 or 10 minutes of the show trying to convince my audience that juggling three yellow balls (or "spheroids of death," as I called them) was far more dangerous than juggling three machetes. And if they really wanted to see something special and something extremely dangerous, they should demand that I put away the machetes and juggle the balls. (The audience remained unconvinced of my argument, and insisted I juggle the machetes. Big surprise there.) It's an old bit, but one I had never done before, and I liked the audience response. So I think this bit of silliness may become a permanent part of my outdoor performing repertoire!

I spent the next two hours doing walk-around performing -- and having a great time. (Deb was kind enough to come along and make sure I didn't do anything too foolish. She brought a cooler of bottles of water and Ensure Liquid Instant Meals to keep me going.)

One young man (maybe mid-20's), who had not been eating enough chili to keep up with his beer consumption, became fascinated with my diabolo play. After watching for a while, he started gathering a bigger audience for me, grabbing passers-by and saying: "You gotta stay and watch this guy! He's incredible!"

He insisted on tipping me, despite my protests: "Hey, I'm getting paid well for this gig, please keep your money." And as I collected his money under duress, others decided they needed to contribute to the cause. I honestly didn't want the cash, but accepted it as a "thanks for helping make my day" from the passers-by.

After several routines with various juggling props, he and I parted company, as I left to entertain elsewhere on the fairgrounds.

When I saw him again, he was surrounded by a group of friends. By his demeanor and speech, it seemed his beer-to-chili consumption ratio was headed in the wrong direction. He grabbed me by the shoulder and proclaimed to his friends: "You have got to see the incredible tricks this guy can do! He has spent the last three years... on acid... practicing up for today." And, then to me, "Go ahead, do something incredible!"

I've often been accused of using magnets, velcro, and hidden strings to make my tricks work. (And grateful that the accuser, because he or she obviously thought that my trick was too good to be true!) But this was the first time I'd ever been accused of using psychotropic substances...


Homestead Village
Most really nice retirement facilities, like this one, have a special outdoor day in the fall when residents, families, and neighborhood folks come to walk around the grounds, eat lunch, and listen to and watch the entertainment. In this case, the entertainment was a brass band sponsored by the local fire department, several other smaller musical groups and a juggler. A juggler doing double duty by making balloon animals. That would be me.

Deb and I were late getting on-site, and I had forgotten several important props that I normally use in a "stage" type show. My sponsoring person was a bit anxious that I showed up later than I had promised, and our shared anxiety meant that I started going through my collection of props too quickly. Bottom line: I had promised to do an hour-long show and I was running out of stuff to do after 40 minutes.

Now, I can fill 20 minutes with a series of plate spinning tricks -- if I can get several people from the audience to participate. This is never a problem in an elementary school, but always a problem at a retirement home. (At retirement homes, I usually dragoon some staff members to participate.) As I neared the end of my inventory-of-props-I-did-bring, I kept scanning the audience for some kids, or staff members or anyone that might be willing to spin a plate with me.

I put down my last useful prop and took a quick look at my watch. Much too much time left over... Then I looked up from my prop table and into the audience just as two teenage girls finished positioning two wheelchair-bound residents into the front row of the show. (I think the girls were volunteers from the local high school.) And much to my surprise and relief, they both were perfectly agreeable to participating in my show. Then two other kids (one boy, one girl) showed up immediately afterwards. And the four of them saved the day for me. (Seriously now, would you rather see a 62-year-old man spin plates or four handsome and enthusiastic kids from the local area? Learning cool stuff and grinning from ear-to-ear?)

It was one of those moments when you felt that someone or something in the Great Beyond was toying gently with me -- and coming to my rescue at the last possible moment.

The rest of the show went fine, and finished almost exactly one hour after it started.

I was scheduled then to do walk-around for the next three hours -- giving mini-performances and lessons as well as making balloon animals.

My sponsoring person had asked me to walk through the building as well as the event grounds to see if there were people who would like to see a show. I couldn't find any residents, but I did find a cleaning lady who had her two small kids in tow. I asked the older of the two (he was maybe five) if he would like a balloon doggie, and he said he would. So I twisted up one for him, and he was quite pleased. His younger brother (maybe two) started squirming in Mommy's arms and making noises. His older brother interpreted that he, too, would like a balloon doggie.

I complied in making the dog, and also making sure that Mommy and Older Brother understood that the youngster should not be allowed to place the balloon anywhere near his mouth, which they both understood.

The look on the little guy's face that made the event special. You would have thought I had offered the Key to Universal Peace and Understanding to him. His face lit up and just glowed and glowed and glowed.


Wings 'n' Water
The Wetlands Institute just outside of Stone Harbor holds an annual fund-raising event every year to support their work in maintaining the pristine condition of the wetlands that still exist down near the southernmost point of New Jersey. There is artwork for sale, as well as clothing, books, binoculars, DVD's and so forth. Everything a nature-lover could want.

My job here was to set up a "learn-to-juggle" area with diabolos and flower sticks and absorb some of the excess energy that some of the kids brought with them to the event. Let Mom and Dad relax a little bit.

Almost every kid who stopped in my area learned something, but one young lady -- maybe 12 or 14 -- spent almost the entire day with me, learning the diabolo. Her determination, persistence, and aptitude for the prop were wonderful. She had never seen a diabolo before that day, but after an hour or so, she was giving lessons to other kids.

And every half hour or so, she would come over to me and ask for a new trick to learn.

Mom could not have been more grateful for all the time I was spending with her daughter. And there were serious conversations between Mom and kid as to exactly when she (the kid) was going to receive her own diabolo -- birthday? Christmas? just because I've been good?

As they were leaving, Mom thanked me once again, and said that the only reason that her daughter was doing so well with the prop was because of all the time that I had spent with her.

Which gave me the chance to respond that, if it weren't for the natural talent that the young lady brought with her, there was little I could do.

Mom looked at kid and beamed. Kid looked at Mom and smiled. They held hands and walked off towards the parking lot together.


The Amazing Part
This is the part that always astonishes me: People invite me to such wonderful places, and then pay me to show off and to share.