A personal account of the IJA Winter Festival at the Showboat Hotel / Casino / BowlingAlley in Las Vegas, Nev., U.S.A.

By ERNIE PYLE, SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT, PHOTOS BY STUART CELARIER

I was surprised when the editor called and asked if I would cover the IJA Winter Festival in Las Vegas for Juggler's World. But then I'm always surprised when the IJA calls. Sure, I've covered "Combat" for them, but that's more my style. Sure, I've drunk a few with Ziethen, but who hasn't? They must have been thinking that I could offer a little different perspective, and that Vegas is a little more my style than, say, Fargo. Regardless, I accepted the assignment, and with press pass in hand and a pocket full of quarters I arrived at the Showboat on Monday, Jan. 4, a day late and already a few dollars shorter.

Vegas is a town that never closes, where no one ever heard of last call. You can drink for free if you're gambling, and partying is a growth industry. They didn't bat an eye when festival coordinator Ginny Rose said the open juggling room must be open 24 hours. "But of course, Ms. Rose. And would you like cocktails?"

Oh, that's why they called me. Vegas seemed like a good choice for the first-ever IJA Winterfest. Cheap rooms (real rooms, maid service, TV, ice machine, a private bath... not your usual IJA accommodations), free juggling space and no hills to climb, events scheduled somewhere else, no long walk to your room, no long walk to the dining room. It was all just an elevator ride away. Ah... that's why they called!

I was shocked when approaching the "registration" table when I found no line. Just a simple one page form, mostly just a waiver. The fee, just $50, or one throw of the dice, whichever came first. Ginny Rose and Richard Dingman (new IJA secretary / treasurer, author of Patterns, rock-climber and all-around cool guy) were running the table and directing traffic. "The casino is down­stairs," they said.

Imagine my chagrin upon learning that the "official schedule of events" was just one party, and in the same open juggling space at that! My kind of schedule, no wonder they called! "Hey, what's going on here?" I wondered. "No competitions, no workshops, no public shows, no business meetings, no organized games, no buses to catch, no scheduled meal times, what is there left to do?"

Juggle! And juggle they did. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 125 jugglers showed up for the week, or a day, or whatever. The "juggling room" was the Natchez complex of breakdown rooms. The ceilings were just high enough to squeak in a triple while passing. Several ornate chandeliers, with multiple globes, made picking your spot to stand rather crucial. And picking the number of globes that would be broken during the week was one of the hottest bets in town! (The winning number was two.) The room was mostly carpeted, but featured a nice "dance floor" which became the bounce juggling / unicycle center. All in all, I felt that the complex helped the ambience of the week. It made the jugglers share air space and floor space, and was not so overly large that you or your group could be isolated.

In short, the space promoted a family-like feeling. There was lots of club passing with various groups teaching tricks and patterns. Passing guru Martin Frost was generally up to his knobs spreading his wisdom to the assembled masses. I saw "entropy," and "feast," "Bruno's nightmare" and "Hovey's nightmare," "oogle Boogie," "Ultimate boogie," "Torture chamber," and more. I saw six club patterns, seven clubs, eight clubs and nine. Six counts, four counts, three counts, two counts, one count and even half-counts. There was little that I had ever seen or heard of in the way of passing that didn't happen in that room. Except, of course, any pattern requiring more than a modicum of height.

There was lots of solo juggling, too, and lots of helpful people to demonstrate, teach, coach and cajole, tease and cheer. Daniel Holzman was most evident as a tireless teacher, sharing his extensive knowledge with anyone who would ask and try. The open juggling was plentiful, wide-ranging and warm.

Everyone seemed comfortable, and all levels of skill could interact without feeling uncomfortable. It felt like a juggling club.

As I mentioned before, there were not a lot of scheduled activities, but that does not mean there wasn't anything to do. On the "registration" table, sheets of paper kept appearing on which you could sign up to participate in a myriad of activities. There were sheets offering rock climbing, bungee jumping, late-night bowling and even one advertising a "Deep Space Nine" party in a hotel room. There were also sign up sheets for a different show each night at Circus-Circus, or to see Anthony Gatto, Nino Frediani, Cirque du Soleil or whatever. Yes, there were slot machines at the other places, too.

The IJA was represented (very low­key, by the way) by employees Rose, Dingman and major domo Nearly Normal Norman Schneiderman as chief administrative officer/security guy and speed passer. Board-o-Di­rector guys Paul Kyprie and Jek Kelly were also in attendance, with Kyprie in his familiar alter-ego role as Zeemo the Magnificent, glad-handing and accepting thanks for his development and implementation of the wonderful idea of a Vegas "thang." Zeemo also attended with several others the Benny Reehl seminar, held through­out the week. Kelly, in his many guises, was mostly passing clubs, quarters and pasteboards, and talking to all in the company of wife Nancy.

The unofficial / official beer bash party was a welcome respite in the room. You didn't have to do anything. It just happened during peak juggling hours. All of a sudden there was free beer, soft drinks and munchies available. You didn't have to move, or stop juggling or anything. It just started, and the group of already happy campers became more so. This was also the best time for celebrity juggler gawking. Nino Frediani was there. Gregory Popovich was there. Anthony and Nick Gatto were there. And we were there. Everyone was approachable, and talking was the most popular activity along with autograph collecting, picture taking and laughing. Juggling never stopped, though. It was a great party, held in the same spirit as the rest of the week.

Kyprie and Rose are to be congratulated. The week was a huge success in every aspect physically, emotionally and spiritually. And all of the attendees are to be congratulated for making it so. In my humble opinion, we hit the jackpot!           

The author has previously written for the "Midnight Express," the IJA's 1992 Montreal Festival publication, and is a regular contributor to the IJA's "Clubs & Affiliates Newsletter."