BY ERNIE PYLE

 

I was cruising down the Las Vegas Strip in the back of a taxi with Zeemo. It was magnificent. We were on our way back to the Showboat, home of the IJA winter festival.

 

The Showboat had become familiar after three years, and I found that reassuring. Any place without a closing time should be familiar. The friendly familiar voice of the elevator intoning your floor. "Zeemo, how did it get so good?" They were in the process of remodeling the old 'Boat, and this is good. I did notice, though, that they hadn't gotten around to re­modeling the wait staff of the coffee shop. I walked in after not having been there in a year, and the waitress asked, "The usual Ernie?"

 

"Naw, I'm too tired. Just coffee."

 

Others were here too. About, oh..a hundredteenish, or so, you know. At least enough to staff the Natchez complex - a knockout juggling space replete with chandeliers and buckets to catch the rain. Guess they haven't re­modeled here yet either. But my room was redone. It looked great, and no doubt so will the rest. We do see progress. We were also capable of staffing the audiences of the juggling shows in town. Nino Frediani, Dick Franco, The Qian Brothers, Anthony Gatto, Noel Franco, and a whole shaker cup full of others.

 

Speaking of Anthony, the 21-year-old made an appearance at the fest. I happened to be working the door. Okay, I was just sitting there while Nearly Normal Norman, executive head of security juggler, attended to matters germane.  Anyway, I see

Anthony approaching the door with no badge or pass or anything. I figure, "Cool." I say, "Hey, you need a badge to get in here." Without slowing down, he throws me a wry smile, and walks into the room like he's Anthony Gatto. I figure, "Coo!!"

 

You see the cool thing, the unique thing about the Vegasfest, is that there is no schedule. Okay, there is a cocktail party one afternoon. Really just a keg and some munchies served right there in the juggling room. See, the whole idea of this festival was just kind of to get together, away from the snow, and just kinda... hang. Sure, throw a few clubs or cards, or both. More of a vacation. Falling on the calendar when it does, it attracts a high percentage of pro jugglers.

 

It allows the utmost in freedom of schedule. There is always plenty brewing. Ginny Rose, IJA festival coordinator, lines up discount tickets to shows and organizes groups to attend. Ginny, knows what's happening. Eliot Goldstein is always organizing late night bowling, a seeming favorite of the "let's drink until dawn" crowd. And of course there is gaming. The nickel slots around by the back bar is usually heavily dressed in juggling T-shirts on any given night. One night last year I saw Tom Kidwell, Norman Schneiderman, Paul Kyprie, Jek Kelly and John Houchins lined up stool-to-stool. The nickels were flying as fast as the banter.

 

I enjoy the late night philosophical juggling discussions with friends seldom seen. People like Steve and Michelle Gerdes, sampling a home brew brought to Vegas for just this purpose. Or a field trip to Holy Cow, the local brew pub. Conversations with Zeemo about the role of the artist on the street corner, and where can you buy good tops. Or Arnie, flying in for 20 hours and expecting to party the whole time.

 

Being able to say "The Amazing Arnie, meet Zeemo the Magnificent, Zeemo the Magnificent meet The Amazing Arnie." I seem to remember saying that.