Sunday, January 21, 2007

Don't stare-- they like that.

I third-wheeled it to brunch with Pearl and Tom this morning, on a quest for smoked salmon and bagels. Actually, my morning had begun about 4 hours earlier when I found myself awake at 6AM for no good reason. I suspect it had something to do with our heroic thermostat trying to protect me from the near zero temperature, as I woke up feeling like someone had been blasting me in the face with a hair dryer all night long. So I had some water, started the crossword puzzle, and watched it get lighter outside.
Basically, I belong in a nursing home somewhere in Yawn City.

But the real story here isn't about me, it's about Mr. Juggles. We took the T to Croma and it was a pretty empty train-- save for one bearded gentleman. He smiled politely at us, and once the train started moving he took off his jacket to reveal a purple button-up and took out his juggling balls.
He was good, but not fantastic by any means. He frequently dropped the balls and had to chase them around.

Now, I hate obvious pleas for attention, so I only took furtive glances. The next time I turned around, he was drinking orange juice out of a recycled jar.

Come ON.

At this point, more people were starting to get on the train, and so Mr. Juggles turned his attention to a very rumpled piece of paper extracted from his pocket. Maybe it was his set list?

1. Juggle
2. Orange juice/jar
3. ...?

Pearl and Tom had a better view, but were also trying to remain tactful.
Pearl told me later that he went on to write a lengthy note on a Georgia O'Keefe postcard.

I suppose it's hypocritical of me to disparage these Free Spirits and then spend time photographing/writing about them, but

...well no, it's definitely hypocritical. I hope Mr. Juggles had a good day. Sort of.

1 comment:

BabsTheBun said...

I suppose it's important (comforting?) to remember that no matter where you are, crazy people are always nearby.
My first week here in the valley, so many years ago, I was informed by a dentist that I needed major oral surgery. I walked across town in a daze, no doubt imagining upcoming
(bloody) medical trauma juxtaposed with my first week of college. Buster and I stopped at a crosswalk and pressed the WALK button when an older man in a three-piece suit stopped us and sternly said, "If you press the button and HOLD it, it pollutes less." He then casually jaywalked across the street and began running in the opposite direction.
Well, at least he wasn't juggling.