11/15/04’s illustrious band:

Air Traffic

Brought to you by the mysterious workings of the Tao.

Did I ever tell you how I came to be called Jugglernaut? No? Well, it's no big mystery, really. You just have to know the word is a combination of "juggler" and "juggernaut," which means "unstoppable force." If it were a real word, "jugglernaut" would mean "unstoppable juggling force." I'm not really an unstoppable juggling force -- I leave that feat to Magic -- but I am a juggler of sorts, and I can't force myself to stop playing with words.

During the time when I was working as a night shift proofreader and was therefore rather strange (see Executive Perks), I also had a weekend job at a juggling equipment store called Air Traffic. I stumbled into that one quite by accident. I went into the store one day to shop for some better juggling clubs than the cheap extruded plastic ones I had and spotted a registration sheet for a juggling class. Knowing that I was, in fact, getting strange on the night shift and that I needed more and better human society, I signed up.

The teacher of the class was Magic, the manager of the store. Since I was the only adult student, the two of us shared a few grown-up jokes that went over the heads of my preteen classmates. Under his patient coaching, I made significant progress in my juggling, reaching the point where I could handle up to four balls at once or pass clubs with a partner without dropping too many times in a row. (It's one of those skills I love to brag about but seldom find an opportunity to slip into conversation.)

Eventually Magic asked me if I had a car. Why? Because he wanted to offer me a job in the store, and I'd need a car to get to work. I could juggle, I could count out change, and I was looking for a way to make a few extra bucks, so I accepted. I worked weekend mornings, selling juggling props and other toys. To lure people into the store, my coworkers and I would juggle conspicuously near the entrance -- as if it's possible to juggle inconspicuously -- and offer free lessons to unwary shoppers. As retail work went, it could have been worse. However, I eventually grew tired of the policies of the store's owner, a dolt named Jim. I resigned after several months and fell out of contact with the juggling world . . .

. . . until 10 or so years later, when I heard a coworker, Sister Amy Sunshine, enthusing about a guy in her church who was a fantastic juggler. As soon as she described him, I knew it was my old friend Magic. We renewed our acquaintance and have shared many a laugh since. This leads me to believe that perhaps juggling is an unstoppable force after all, because what goes around comes around, time after time.

Today around the world: November 15 is Peace Day in the Ivory Coast. We need more days like this one.

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