3 a.m. Tuesday, July 24, 2001


Room 213 Hawthorn Suites, Madison,WI


(the following is probably pretty roughly formatted... but we're lucky


to have it at all... more later)


Hello, all you jugglers out there in USENETland! I was vaccillating


about whether to do my rec dot journal this year for the IJA fest in


Madison, being an official minion of the IJA and all (for those of you


just tuning in, I've been posting daily journals of my adventures at


the IJA fests since the Primm event a few years back... in Niagara, I


was part of a failed bid to join the IJA board of directors. Not


having learned my lesson, I came back for a second run in Montreal,


and finally got what I asked for).


But tonight, I met not one but two people who knew me not from any of


the other hats I wear; just from these online blatherings. They both


were encouraging, and so instead of getting into bed and going to


sleep as I'd dearly love to do, I'm going to once again inflict my


admittedly telescopic view upon the rec.juggling community. My


apologies in advance for the bandwidth wastage I am about to commit...


So, while serving on the board does not get you any airline tickets or


honorariums, it does seem to get you a hotel room and a free lunch. I


was informed a few weeks back by IJA General Manager Norm Schneiderman


that I was going to be staying in the Hawthorn Suites hotel. I didn't


know it at the time, but when he wrote to me, the hotel had not yet


opened.


The board has been meeting and working the last few weeks to get a


couple of last-minute tasks completed before the festival, but we are


pretty much out of the loop as far as the actual events and workings


of the fest are concerned. So I'm as much in the dark as most of the


other attendees at this point.


The day started in Davis, California, with a 4:35 a.m. alarm. We (ÒweÓ


being myself and Bill ÒSpin DoctorÓ Gilliland, my juggling partner,


companion and travel cohort) managed to dress ourselves and operate


the espresso machine, a remarkable feat considering the lack of sleep


from excitement and late packing.


We originally had planned to take a 12:30 p.m. flight, which would


have put us in Madison at about 8 p.m. But I had read about Sean


McKinney's video release show tonight, and I really wanted to try to


get there to see it. So after a few phone calls, we decided to try


stand-by flight for the first time. We lucked out: not only did we


have seats available during the 6:30 a.m. flight, there was a


connecting flight from our stopover point that meshed nicely with our


plans.


We had a nice flight, with a solid hour of the long jump occupied by


craning our necks over the seats in front of us to try to


surreptitiously watch a young surfer dude flailing around in a game of


Black&White (an absolutely awesome game not available for the Mac yet,


dammit). We also managed to win $1 in the Minnesota lottery during our


layover, and had to walk about a quarter mile for the privilege of


claiming it.


2 p.m. found us in Madison, a pleasant airport just full of wholesome


and friendly people. They practially squeaked when they walked. Humid,


muggy, heavy air met us at the curb where we plunked our prop bags to


wait for the hotel shuttle. We pulled out balls to pass with and a


sweet little child with golden curls and a cherubic countenance chased


them when we dropped. She looked at me as I thanked her for fetching


yet another wayward beanbag and she said, ÒYou have the most beautiful


hair!Ó I was very pleased... I'd spent hours the week before,


bleaching, dying, removing and re-dying the rainbow colors in the last


six inches of my tresses.


Iman Renegade wandered out and gave us a big hug, and then Truly


Remarkable Loon also appeared. Our shuttle was nowhere in sight but we


felt like we'd been warmly welcomed. Loon and Iman took off to find


fest guest Nick Gatto, we boarded our late shuttle, and headed off to


the Alliant Energy Center and surrounding hotel oasis.


Our driver told us that the hotel had only been open for about three


or four weeks, that we were the first large group to be hosted there,


and that the carnies from the county fair had just cleared out from


the neighboring lot the night before. He assured us that the bugs had


indeed been worked out and was confident that our stay would be


comfortable. So far, so good!





Once we settled into our hotel room, I took a catnap while Bill scoped


out the grounds. While I snoozed, a hotel employee dropped off a


bottle of champagne sent from one of the potential sites for next


year. Cool! We're being bribed! Well, actually, the fact that we were


being courted by someone who had the planning skills and initiative to


seek us out made me feel better about the possibility of the site.


Nothing's firm yet, but I think it's safe to say that the board would


like very much to announce the 2002 site during this year's festival.


And it's never too early: if you think you have a great idea for 2003,


let us know about it soon!


I woke up hungry... it had been a long, long time since the


egg-and-sausage sandwich on the plane. We tried out the hotel's deli


and grill, Updown (huh?). Not bad at all. We thoughtfully filled out


this little grocery list that was in the hotel room (which also has a


kitchenette); it's cheaper to make eggs and bacon at 2 a.m. than to


call a taxi for Denny's. We also needed some orange juice to make


mimosas... they'd deliver by tomorrow afternoon, no extra charge.








After our sandwiches, the hotel van delivered us to Capitol Square


(great; we can get delivered places but we're going to have to bum


rides back or find that taxi. Still, should be cheaper than a rental


car). We found the community theatre where Sean's show was going to


be, but at 6 p.m. there was no signs of life. Two hours to kill, but


fortunately we were smack in the middle of the area that everyone who


had been to Madison ahead of us told us to visit: State Street. It's a


path between the capitol building and the University of Wisconsin at


Madison, on the shores of the lake (which lake? dunno... there's a


lake everywhere you turn out here). UW Madison apparently was the


first campus to serve beer to students on campus in the United States.


Sounded worthy of a pilgrimage to me. So off we went.


We never made it to the shore. We came across several game shops, and


Bill being a major game addict had to investigate thoroughly. I can't


blame him all the way; I did my fair share of dragging him into funky


little shops with blown glass vases, kites, candles, books and such.


The Chocolate Coyote shop offered fudge and ice cream, and we were


finally halted completely by Canterbury Books (with Pegasus Games, the


third game shop in as many blocks, tucked in the back). We tore


ourselves away in time to dash back to the theatre (even the bums here


are polite; the only one who made eye contact apologetically asked for


a cigarette. I don't smoke but I damn near bought him a pack just for


being so nice about it).


Jon Held (of Airjazz) sold us our tickets as Jay Gilligan filmed


tattoos and various body parts of attendees filing into the venue


(they both will be presenting off-site shows in this spot during the


week). It was a smallish theatre, steep with funky sliding chairs.


Maybe 100, 120 people were there. I recognized the Renegades, Mark


Hayward, Steve Brown, Jerry Martin and a few others from the stalwart


desk crew... but if there were any other board members there, they


were out of sight (Ben Schoenberg wanted to go, but he and Yvette had


to set up the Serious Juggling booth back at Alliant).


I'm going to assume you all saw Sean's posting about what was coming


up at this gathering. It was promoted as a little bit of live stuff


mixed with several video clips, culminating in the premiere of Caught


Clean 3, and that's what we saw. Sleep-deprived and clean-cut, Sean


leapt from a back wall into the audience to start the show


(sleep-deprived Ôcause he'd been trying to get CC3 done in time for


this release show). He did some goofing around with his partner Steve


for a bit, and then Jay played with this fabulous little toy: think of


the number 3, now tip it 90 degrees clockwise. He rolled balls on this


construct and finished up leaving us wanting to see more of it (oh,


this was preceded by what I assume was a jewelry commercial featuring


Jay juggling a bottle of bubbly, two glasses and a small gift box.


Best production values of the evening).


Now I'm going to have to Ôfess up. I was lazy and left my notepad at


the hotel. I'm not going to remember everything but it was a fun


evening (though maybe not quite worth a $10 ticket). Jason hadn't


arrived yet so Sean started playing footage he'd shot of Jason at


Montreal, throwing up three back-crosses and piroutting before


attempting to catch each on the way back down (spin, catch, spin,


catch, spin, catch). It went on for quite a while until Garfield


showed up for his stage time. He abused the audience while he tried to


flash 11 in return for this wad of cash Sean offered him. OK, it


sounds dumb but it was pretty funny. It went on for too long but it


never got painful.


We also got to see the trailer for Jason's new movie, Juggling Kung Fu


Master. A clown gets treated pretty badly in this installment of the


Garfield series, along with just about everybody else.


The main event, finally: Caught Clean 3. It's a mesmerizing film, a


litany of failed tricks that had everyone wincing and grimacing in


sympathy as props and bodies crashed to the ground over and over. Yet


it was fascinating, as these people were trying such gonzo things that


even getting them launched was a reason to cheer. Footage from


Montreal was featured, including the brief visit by an van full of


cops. When Jay and Sean finally, finally, finally catch and juggle


each other's kicked-up 3-club start, it's a moment of joy for the


whole room.


There's one over-long segment of a circus cat-woman (Sean's


girlfriend? Was she the one that blew us all away at Isla Vista a few


years back?), but even that's forgivable: she does some wild baton


work. He promises to edit it further before releasing it for sale, and


the audience adjourns to the lobby for Dr. Skipper soda and chatting.


Jerry Martin is green around the gills from Sean's jerky filming


technique (Bill suggests passing the hat to buy him a tripod), but is


willing to ferry us back to the hotel when he feels better. Rumors of


a Renegade show are floating about but I don't hear anything concrete


about where or when. Jerry picks up a few tidbits for the fest


newspaper (after a year's hiatus, he's back in the editor's seat


again, hooray!) and we head back. Rob Peck is also stranded and joins


us. Jerry tells us how lost he is as he quickly drives us directly


back to the hotel, and drops us off as he heads off to the local


Kinkos.


No sign of Ben and Yvette, or anyone else, at the fest site, which is


a long shoe-box shape, dark with bright neon accents along the top. So


we meander back to the hotel and visit to the hot tub and pool for a


swim and soak, then back to the room for Comedy Network, popcorn and


champagne. It's really, really hard to get a cork back into a


champagne bottle, did you know?


Loon has asked people to show up at the fest at 6 a.m. tomorrow for a


local news cast. It's 2 a.m. now but we're still going to give it a


go. Tomorrow, the fest begins!


(Many, many thanks to Dan Westacott of the Minnesota Neverthriving,


who has worked tirelessly to wire up several machines enough to allow


me to upload this journal. You completely rock!)