I'm wandering wide-eyed through Pauley Pavilion when L.A. festival coordinator Ginny Rose taps me on the shoulder "Hey Rob! How would you like to meet Kris?' 

"Sure," I smile back, neither knowing nor caring who Kris is. Even when I looked directly ) at him I still didn't put the two K's together. Somehow an idol looks different when he's wearing sweatpants, hasn't shaved and is smiling almost shyly within a foot of your face!  

IJA secretary/treasurer Richard Dingman stepped in and said, "Kris, I want you to know Rob had high hopes of inviting you to take part in his 'Hot Hat Demo' yesterday." 

Kris responded with a sly wink to Ginny, "My bad luck! You never know where I might learn a new move for to the act!" With a friendly elbow to my ribs Richard suggested, "Well, Kris, if you'd like I'm sure Rob would be willing to go over his hand-out and coach you on what you missed!" 

The sound of Ginny's merry chuckle was like a "name that tune" clue. Instantly a buzzer went off in my brain. Like a quiz show contestant charged with prize money fervor, I blurted out what I was certain was the correct answer, "You're Kris Kremo!" 

Clearly experienced at this a kind of rhetorical question,  Kremo graciously extended his a hand. Not content with an expression of unabashed idolatry, I quickly supplied my own sycophantic sound effects, "I can't believe I'm shaking hands with Kris Kremo! You're like a legend. I mean, I've been a fan of yours for years! I've I watched and collected videos of you on Mery Griffin, Circus World..." 

For all his on stage craftsmanship, off stage the Great One could barely mask his boredom. Fortunately, in the midst of my trite tributes, Kremo noticed a nearby vendor's display table. In much the manner of a man grasping for straws, he grabbed a devil stick off Todd Smith's prop table. Silencing me in mid- worship, he stared at the center stick intently and asked, "Do you know this prop?" 

Too startled to even suspect a trick question, I quickly nodded. Again in a simple, direct tone he asked, "Do you do it?" 

"Yes. It's one of my favorites." 

Then in words which will resonate in my memory forever he asked, "Would you show me?" 

"You mean... you want me to teach you?" 

"Please. I'd like to know how you do it."  

Somewhere God is laughing uproariously. Meanwhile I'm saying to myself, "Great! This is rich. Kris Kremo's coming to me for juggling lessons. Right! Where's Alan Funt and Candid Camera?"

Curiously, this ironic role reversal had a cathartic effect.  Within a few sentences we went from reverence to a sort of working relationship.  "The first thing is to grip these two hand sticks a few inches from the bottom, curving your wrists so that they angle inward."

"Yes, and then what?..."

To my astonishment, I really needed to cover all the basics.  Evidently even the great ones have to learn how to manipulate the center dowel one hand stick at a time!  (All the same, I'm still convinced Kremo puts his tux pants on by tossing them up lightly and gaping into them both legs at once.) 

Of course the explanation could lie in the less than legendary skill of his instructor. However, the moment I try to shoulder the blame for an overspun center stick, he cuts me off. Chuckling aloud at his uncharacteristic, awkwardness, Kremo insists, "No! You're not the problem. You are a fine teacher. What . you're explaining is easy enough to understand, Just not so easy to do!" 

Simultaneously nurtured by his positive comments on my coaching, and secretly delighted to find my hero so human, I finally relaxed. As his devil sticking sputtered along, I lightened up and added some levity to the lesson. Gradually the kidding went both ways. Increasingly at ease, to our shared delight the center stick stayed aloft for longer and longer runs. 

After another 10 or 15 minutes we clearly had come to a natural point of closure. Again we shook hands. But this time I touched flesh, not bronze. What was once exotic had evolved into an almost easy camaraderie. Life sized and quick to laugh, Kris seemed content to just hang out and get better 'acquainted. 

A few minutes into our conversation I inferred that several innovative moves had been highlighted at the "Hot Hat Demo." Emboldened by his ready enthusiasm, I took a chance. "You know, I'd get a big kick out of showing you some of the ideas I've come up with for manipulating a derby." 

True to form, Kris broke into an encouraging grin. "Sure. I'd be pleased to see what you do. Have you got a derby we can play with?" 

Somebody pinch me! This is too good to be true! But it was. And it got even better. After a few nervous minutes of me trying too hard, his unaffected air again put me at ease. Before long we were exchanging ideas, grips, focus points and in general just goofing around. Kris Kremo, me, and one funky, beat-up black derby. 

"Kris, this is like a dream come true for me. But I can't help feeling a little selfish. I'm sure there are other hat jugglers here who would love to meet you. That is, if it's OK with you?" 

"Of course. No problem. I'd be happy to meet them. Are they around?"

I hustled out to the gym floor, hopeful that my fantasy of a Kremo-inspired "Hot Hat Demo" may just pan out. But to my dismay, I couldn't locate Randy Pryor, Ryder Schwartz, Pat Hazel, Arsene or even the usually ubiquitous David Deeble. To make matters worse, several of my all-time favorite hat jugglers like Andrew Head, Waldo, Bill Fry, Terrell Hayes, Rich DiGiovanna and some others never made it to L.A. Fortunately I did find Rob Salafia, Jess Monroe and some others, and led them back to Kremo. 

Probably more amused than amazed, Kremo was generous with his smile, and participants quickly overcame their inhibitions. Although more content to observe than demonstrate, our mentor was intrigued enough about some of the moves and treatment of certain hats that he periodically asked to borrow one of them for a little hands-on experimentation. (Naturally, no one whose hat was touched by the master's hand will ever wash it again! Of course, none of us ever washed our hats in the first place, but you get the point...) As people swapped moves and shared ideas the circle tightened. An almost palpable current of energy radiated outward from Kremo's gaze, linking us all in his glow. 

As spontaneously as it started, the circle gracefully dissolved, leaving Kris and me to compare perspectives. 

"So, what do you think?" I asked. 

"I think it was quite unusual. To be honest I'm surprised at how many combinations I had either forgotten or never thought of in the first place." 

"That's one of the things I like most about these festivals. There's always some heightened moment of impromptu gym floor magic. What I really love is when ideas plant seeds that take on a life of their own." 

Kris responded, "Of course. That's the goal. Well, what do we do next?" "Well, crazy as it sounds, I'd get a big kick out of showing you some of the ideas I've come up with for cigar boxes." 

"Why not?!" 

Once again I swallowed hard on the adrenaline rising in my throat, then proceeded a to practice the piano for Mozart. It was both heavenly and humbling. But in the end it was one hell of an experience!  

In the midst of my bliss, my pang of conscience returned. "Kris, this is great. But I'm starting to feel a little selfish and I..." 

"Wait! Let me guess... You know a lot of jugglers here who do a lot of terrific things with boxes, yes? Go ahead. Bring them over and we'll see what new things they can show me about boxes!" 

Although I knew he meant it jokingly, the last part of his sentence stuck in my mind. Luckily, I chanced upon Jeff Daymont, the one box juggler present who just might be able to show Kris Kremo something me didn't already know about cigar boxes. 

Kremo clearly appreciated the original blend of aesthetics and athletics Jeff incorporates in his technically complex combinations. Others gathered in awe to I watch, and it was obvious that many sensed at they were in the presence of a special interaction. I waited until Jeff polished off one of his patented "elevator tumbles with manual flip." Poking Kris playfully, I asked Jeff in my best imitation of a typical audience comment, "Say, that's pretty good, but can you do four? And eat an apple at the same time?!" 

Quicker than you can say "quadruple bypass" Jeff added a fourth box. After a few cutting-edge moves, Kremo poked me back and chuckled aloud, "That's like seeing something in 4-D!" 

"Yeah, Jeff is sort of the IJA's Jimi Hendrix of box jugglers." 

Like a reprise of the earlier gathering, the circle seemed to collectively realize the moment the interaction peaked. Their batteries recharged, they all gently drifted off to different parts of the gym - except for one lone stranger with a silver pen. Shyly, he approached Kremo with a request for an autograph. Noticing how readily Kris complied, I asked if I could borrow the metallic marker and quickly followed suit. 

In retrospect, I'm thankful that I had nothing for him to write on. Forced to improvise, I asked him to sign on the black painted side of one of my cigar boxes. He inscribed it, "To Linda Peck. Sorry I didn't get to meet you. All my best." Beside his signature Kremo drew a delightful stick figure of a juggler in a circle of light. Which was in many ways the perfect symbol for the missing "Meet Kris Kremo Workshop"- serendipitous, whimsical and illuminating.