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<P><CENTER><STRONG><FONT SIZE="+1">My first juggling
gig</FONT></STRONG></CENTER></P>
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<P>This was my first juggling gig. It was at a different
college with a new crowd and no money on the line so I had
nothing to lose. It was a really no worry deal for me,
excepting that I might screw up in public and drop and a
rolled newspaper on my face, with one end laced with flaming
Sterno.</P>
<P><IMG SRC="http://summersault.com/mark/images/small_clown_juggle.jpg" WIDTH=202
HEIGHT=150 ALIGN=left hspace="10">I spent the afternoon in
anticipation, planning, and practice. I had decided that I
would wear my clown outfit consisting of: basic black and
white Chuck Taylor sneakers, tye-dye socks, huge blue jeans,
red ribbed 70's button up shirt, red and white plaid suit
jacket, and a shiny green tie. And, of course, my blue afro
wig. By dinner time I was already into the get-up and out in
the street in front my house trying out some new club tricks
while riding my skateboard. I was thinking for a finale
trick I might to juggle a basketball, a machete, and a torch
will riding my skateboard across the stage. Scratch the
b-ball, that might be too hard. Two machetes and a torch.
After dinner, I continued to practice by passing clubs with
juggler Jesse and checking out his amazing 5 club moves (he
is is my mentor. The machetes actually belong to him). In
the mean time, I was thinking of how I might put my act
together. I got the idea that I could juggle a roll of
toilet paper, pulling it out of my pocket after I dropped
something else, yell "Oh, shit!" and keep going. Jesse
recommanded the old rubber egg stunt.</P>
<P>I picked up a couple of apples in the cafeteria. I was
thinking I could either dice them with the machete or
perhaps eat one as I juggled. I worked on juggling some
listening to "We're the Punks" by Slapstick on my ska
compilation CD, thinking I might start of my routine
juggling to that. It's fast and had a good beat and switched
it up fairly often. I liked those qualities.</P>
<P>The time to leave was nearing, and I was about to make
myself late because I was juggling in a dorm lobby. I rushed
back to my house, grabbed some pumpkin bread, threw
everything I thought I might want to use during the show,
donned my blue fro and took off for the distant campus.</P>
<P>I had trouble finding the theatre but it wasn't my
fault-- I only knew that it was called "the theatre" and I
figured on a small campus it would be easy to find. It took
me three tries. The event happening was the "Horace
Cabaret", a variety show in honor of Horace Mann, the
founder of Antioch. It was being hosted by my friend Jordan
and co-hosted by a woman named Shanda. At Jordan's
suggestion, they had given themselves the persona of
Southern revivalist preachers.</P>
<P>"Good Evening Brothers and Sisters, welcome to our
church. We got a great show for you tonight. Can I get an
Amen out there?"</P>
<P>Some of the college kids had found the costume shop, so I
wasn't the only one with a wig one, although the other crazy
wig wearers had old man gray wigs and they didn't seem quite
as fun. I got a few props on my outfit from the stage crew.
</P>
<P>The stage wasn't what I had imagined. It was on ground
level with the audience rising up from there. It was big
enought for me to roll around on my skateboard, and I was
stoked on that. I checked in with Jordan and found out I was
slated to go on as the 9th out of 12 acts. I inquired if
he'd gotten the camping gasoline as I had asked him to. They
were on a tight budget, so he'd gotten Sterno instead.
Sterno is not like gas. Sterno is purple and lumpy, perhaps
reminding you of napalm. I had only juggled fire twice in
the past, both times with gasoline (not recommended) and
both times with homemade torches of newspaper and hospital
tape (not recommended either). They were already a little
shorter and misshapen from these previous uses. I was
worried the chunky Sterno might fly off the torch as I
juggled, either sticking to my face or finding it's way into
the audience and leaving permanent burn scars. That would be
bad.</P>
<P>Jordan suggested I try them out back stage before I go
on. I thought it was good idea and mentioned a water bucket
might also be a good idea. When the water bucket arrived, I
dipped a torch in Sterno, lit it and proceeded to flip it
over casually several times it my hand, for the benefit of
the Theatre Manager who had now arrived. Each of the first 3
tosses I dropped the torch on the floor.</P>
<P>"I do better with 3" I explained to the onlookers.
Happily, the Sterno didn't fly off in flaming chunks and I
trusted that it wouldn't happen during the show either.</P>
<P>I wanted to do some kind of finale trick riding my
skateboard, although I had never tried to ride it while
juggling machetes or flaming torches.</P>
<P>There was a large backstage and I practiced riding around
backstage juggling 3 machetes with satisfactory results.
Good enough to do in the performance, I thought. As for the
3 torches, I wouldn't get to practice with them it until I
was actually on stage.</P>
<P>I had brought my CD to play, but Jordan had bungled the
CD player. However, there was a kind of house band
consisting of a pianist and a guitar player that was willing
to back me up. Cool.</P>
<P>So, I had some time to kill before I went on stage. As
nonchalantly as a blue afro wearing, plaid suit sporting kid
could be, I made my way to the back row of the audience to
watch the first few acts. I still didn't have anything
specific to made up to do for my routine, but I felt chill
about it, just kickin' back and watching the first few acts.
They happened to be a pianist, an opera singer, and a poet.
During the 3rd act, I was getting jittery about my routine.
Between acts, I slipped backstage to see how far away I was
from going on. I practiced some more.</P>
<P>I didn't pay much attention to the other acts until I
went on myself. I familiarized myself with the innards of
the theatre, finding the all the hanger outers, including
the drunk musicians corner, the dark pot smokers den, which
was emitting sounds reminiscent of paint being huffed from a
bag, although it was probably just a special bong, because
when the happy stoners later emerged, they had none of the
tale tale signs of paint smudges around their mouth and
nose. I also found the pot smoking chillin' NYC hip hop
boys, seeming too cool and hang with anybody else, or maybe
just not knowing anybody else, or maybe just wanting to get
away to smoke their weed. Realizing my attire, I didn't try
return their hard bloodshot stares, but smiled my best clown
smile and juggled as I walked by.</P>
<P>One of the women backstage wanted me to teach her how to
juggle. She's trying to pick up the juggling clown I
reasoned. "Sure I'll show you". I gave her the five minute
tour of how to juggle, which is never enough for anybody to
learn, unless they are phenomenal. She starts to grasp the
essentials, but soon returns my hacky sacks I had loaned
her.</P>
<P><IMG SRC="http://summersault.com/mark/images/fractal_juggle2.jpg" WIDTH=150
HEIGHT=288 ALIGN=left hspace="10">I'm nervous about the
show, and go over to my gig bag and lay out what I think
I'll use and what I think I won't. I copped out on the
rubber egg gag. There were one or two acts left, and I went
back to audience to check them out, not being able to walk
around nervous anymore. Jordan finally announced me, in his
increasingly realistic drunken southern revivalist preacher
persona. The intro was: "And next we've got some circus
craziness. straight from Barnum and Bailey, he got kicked
out for being a drunken clown--MARK STOSBERG". That was not
true.</P>
<P>So now that I'm finally up, I'm in the audience instead
of backstage. So I unstylishly emerge my blue from the crowd
cross the stage to backstage, holding up my hand in the
universal "1 minute" sign. I had to get my gig bag. Some
southern revivalist co-host was following me backstage
telling me</P>
<P>"your on, your on". Like I didn't already know.</P>
<P>I grab the bag, stride to center stage and set it down. I
talk to the musicians and ask them to start. A jazz rift
appears.</P>
<P>I wave my hands up. "A little faster.", "Faster".</P>
<P>"Oh, so you want a punk rift", the early thirties guitar
player says.</P>
<P>"Yeah, that'd be great".</P>
<P>He starts in and the piano player joins. It's fairly
fast, it's got a beat, and it's repetitive. Good for
juggling.</P>
<P>One reason I didn't rehearse lines and witty comments was
because then I'd have to try and remember them, which I
wouldn't. I'd stumble over my obviously rehearsed lines. So
I just went with whatever would come naturally to me. I knew
it wouldn't be much.</P>
<P>"I've got some spontaneous juggling for you tonight".
That was my opener and about all I ever said, except for
"Thank you" at the end. The rest was nonverbal pointing,
gesturing and expressions.</P>
<P>I grabbed my 3 stage balls out of a plaid coat pocket and
went to work. Forget a buildup, I just jumped it with the
craziest shit I could do, crossing my arms back and forth
all the time, and trying to throw in ever trick I could
remember (that I could pull off on most tries). As I
predicted, I dropped a ball a few times and forgot the
tricks I thought would forget. Applause for the crazy cross
armed stuff and juggling under the leg.</P>
<P>I dropped a ball once more and didn't bother to chase it.
I was keeping up this fun, confident, laid back stage
persona, and I liked it a lot. No nervousness now.</P>
<P>I rummaged through my back quickly for my next stunt. I
pulled out a small basketball and threw that in the pattern
to replace the one I dropped. I didn't have any real
basketball tricks worked out, so soon I tossed it over my
shoulder and went back to bag. minor applause. Rubber egg?
no. Bouncy balls? no. Apple? ok. I hadn't even thought about
doing the eat-the-apple trick on stage. I went right into
it, starting to take bites out of the apple. Apple under the
leg. another bite...Ok! next trick. Apple down. Applause for
the apple.</P>
<P>I grabbed the clubs. Nice big shiny. I started working
them. double spins, triple spins, floaters, under the arm, a
few chops back and forth. None of the craziest stuff I could
do, cause I wanted to keep it smooth.</P>
<P>Looking down, "oh shit!", I still had the toilet paper in
my other pocket. I meant to throw it in with the balls, but
this would have to do. drop a club and pull out the TP and
let in fly. Wahoo! It unravels everywhere the air. I throw
it high, keeping it going until I can't see for the paper.
I'm feeling a good vibe from the crowd.</P>
<P>Keeping the pace up, I toss the toilet paper and go back
to the depleted bag. Machete time! I pull out the 3 big army
surplus knives each in their own sheath. I pull one out.
murmurs in the crowd. I pull out the other two and smash/rub
them together. "SHINGGG, SHINGGG". they make that loud
metallic knife sound. It feels good. Gasps from the crowd. I
hold two in one hand, one in the other. I shake the one,
nervously, toss it once over in my hand. I give a small
pause and exhale, as I if where a tennis layer before the
serve. toss. toss. toss.</P>
<P>I'm in the pattern. These are real machetes, not shaped
or weighted for juggling and they kept spinning awkwardly,
making each catch uncertain. 10 or so tosses and I finish
flawlessly. Applause.</P>
<P>Again, I give the "one minute symbol". I disappear
backstage, this time with the drunken revivalist co-host
yelling "fire! fire!" at me. I don't respond. I grab my
skateboard from behind the curtain and bring it out, showing
it to the audience. They understand. "ohhh" they collective
respond. I move the mat off the stage and kick off some
residual peanut shells from a previous act. I take the
machetes and the skateboard to one side. murmurs in the
audience.</P>
<P>There is no turning back here. I push off and start
juggling the machetes. I float across the stage. on the far
side, I stop my skateboard, catch the machetes, turn to the
audience and bow. Big applause. Yeah.</P>
<P>Back to the bag. Out come the torches. Noise in the
audience. the punk riff continues. It's speed gives an
urgent feel to my movements. Jordan appears on stage. "hey
man, get the Sterno and matches now", I say.</P>
<P>He disappears and I tell the audience "1 minute" again
with my finger as I wait for Jordan to get back.</P>
<P>My decaying newspaper torches look pitifully homemade,
although very real. They are made of rolled up newspaper
with an extra layer for 4 inches on one end. They have been
completely wrapped in hospital tape (it was what was handy)
and the bulb on end on each one is burned down, each a
little differently, from the 2 times I had tried this stunt
before.</P>
<P>Jordan arrives with Sterno and matches and dips each
torch for me, lights them and hands them back. Sterno makes
lousy flames. The flames were small and they were
overpowered by the lights on the stage. That was all ok, the
better for me to see them.</P>
<P>I could almost see the anticipating smiles of the
audience through the lights as I held two torches in one
hand, one in the other, and contemplated my fate. I have
never burnt myself with these, but I DID have to drive a
stick shift home.</P>
<P>Smiling, my stage persona, I start the pattern. nothing
fancy. straight shit. I feeling like I need a finale, like
just straight juggling fire ain't enough. I decide to try a
double spin. this is an easy trick with clubs, but
definitely harder with funky torches, because the spin is
less accurate AND faster, and the importance of catching the
right end of the club must be emphasized. I go for it. SHOO,
SHOO. the flame gushes as it spins twice through the air.
SMACK! The handle hits my hand hard and I continue a single
spin pattern. Relief. I catch two torches in one hand blow
them out and take a bow. Great applause.</P>
<P>I gather my bag and skateboard, and head off stage left,
gathering my thrown basketball on the way.</P>
<P>It's over. I did it. My first juggling gig. Nothing mind
blowing, but I did good stuff and got good applause. Yeah.
Good feeling. I spent the next act back stage chilling and
then went back to the audience for the last acts. They end
and I return home, alone, as every clown must.</P>
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