DREAMING? WAKE UP CALL, PLEASE:

Jay Gilligan added another silver to the collection, the hefty check maybe making this Blink's most profitable outing. It is gratifying to see how much the judges appreciate, nay, worship Jay, but I wish they would have liked him that much when he juggled! If Jay was robbed last year, he returned the favor here ­ he gets serious, and he's snubbed. He fools around, and the judges get serious. I guess it all evens out! With Jay's quirky mind for innovative and visually interesting tricks, and his technical ability to pull 'em off, if he gives serious attention to movement, melding startling tricks with presentation, heads will pop wide open. Then he'll earn the worship he deserves.

 

Much of his routine was pose, but he didn't drop it, or his tricks, and the judges just love that. Being an old hand on stage didn't hurt a bit. Good music choice, and Jay earned the only kiss on stage, because he was the only other one in lipstick. But someone needs to do his colors; maybe then he'll be able to wear gold again.

 

On Renegade Jay set the hat and cane aside, and started to have his wicked way with five clubs, but he'd spent too much time in the studio, and it wasn't so much sweet as it was short.

 

Everyone loved the mystical hemispheres, and Jay's prancing about, but the rules DID say it was a juggling competition, so flashy Brian Patz was stunned to sweep up bronze. With added styling, it took hours to get through his flash pirouettes and finger-pistols. Brian started cleanly, but the drops caught up with him. Albert Lucas talked with him afterwards, and, given his flair, that's gotta help. Brian scored big applause when he pulled off Jack Kalvan's club balance to drop-back-kick-over-the-head trick.

 

Casey Boehmer earned junior gold with a clean routine that was high-energy and brief. Very refreshing, that. The kid has a professional style that is youthful and fresh, with nasty tricks effortlessly done. Note that using half the allotted time with a well­executed performance CAN win a juicy check and nifty souvenir pogslammer!

 

Mike Price wore dapper suspenders to clean the silver. You could have flipped a medal between Mike and Casey, with no problems either way, although Casey was crisper, while Mike kept giving us the "just wait" finger - a junior flaw almost as pervasive as the vest, and more damaging to a routine. It's weak as a transition, and who needs drop punctuation? Mike hadn't worked the unicycle smoothly into the routine, while noone questioned Casey's mini-tramp flip.

 

Why do so many juniors shop from the fifties - did Jay use up all the MTV? Are they channeling for their parents??? Why slip on a 40 year old personality? Rick Friscia was bronzed for a standard nightclub routine that didn't floor me. When questioned about this act, one judge asked "Which color vest was he?" I found it too dated, and tired as a result. Let it rest, yeah?

 

TRIPP DOWN MEMORY LANE:

It was re-runs in teams, with both finishing in the money. Any other team qualifying could have picked up a check; I saw Rick and Jack eyeing the flowerpots in the hotel lobby. The Dew Drop Jugglers reprised their Montreal movie-themed diabolo routine with this year's Mission Impossible. They were well-rehearsed, and, with a strong anchor in numbers club passing including a two-high, they wore gold.

 

Tripp and Fall's energetic shaker-chair routine didn't feature numbers or hitech tricks, but they earned their silver, being much improved since their last teams bid. Reid got an aerobic workout; he also made the individuals finals. They are a fine team, and Reid is silly, but one of the guys in the Dew Drop Jugglers looks kinda like Albert Lucas, AND they did more numbers. It IS a juggling competition, and the Dew Drops got off a Justice For Rastelli joke.

 

LITE'S OUT:

The Renegade stage audiences didn't reach triple digits, which was comfortable outside at the bandshell, but it crowded the bar when Renegade was held at there, spilling jugglers onto the sidewalk as local fratboys hogged the tables. The first night ran to wholesome recitals, which no one appreciates less than me. Family fare isn't terribly Renegade, but it alternated with freakiness. Holey Steve pulled his tongue stud to yo-yo - look ma, no hands! Mark Faje reprised Superbaby balanced on a mouthstick, spitting flames; he can toss all kinds of things to his head (remember the beer bottle with Dan Bennet?) but I'd seen it. He showed more later, when the hot glue he shot down his pants wasn't enough to keep 'em up...