Norman can’t Juggle
…Or: …why should he anyway ? …...
He listened to an obscure Oslo radio station (playing 'Revolution of the Mind' by Garland Jeffreys), went to the book-marked page of the novel he was reading and filled the iceless tumbler with the last drops of Southern Comfort.
Norman had always felt like a natural-born multi-tasker. At work it was implicitly expected that you could mix cement, lay bricks or set Italian tiles, operate power tools, drive the forklift when need be, connect electrical wires and always be available online just in case the foreman contacted you.
Sure, he was good at all of that, he had even once been acknowledged with a small promotion. Yet as Norman stared down into his now empty tumbler, he knew that this was neither who he really was nor was it what gave him any true sense of purpose.
On a half hazy Saturday in June, his weekend, Norman decided to head downtown to the annual busker street festival. A change of venue from his forty-five hour week at the building site. Once there, his numb mood immediately lifted as he strolled past the various presenters, artists and entertainers. Obviously it was unlikely these folks made much of a living out of their performances. Be that as it may, their talents, skills and genuine enthusiasm were undeniable. And that purple-haired punk-like guy across from the cotton candy stand, well he preformed at a totally higher level. After completing a hand-stand and juggling act while on a unicycle, the guy jumped off with a back-flip and beckoned his audience for applause.
After a few victory laps on his performance mat, he waved a XXL-size sterile glove at his audience before pulling it over his head. Without further ado, he began to blow up the glove through his nose. The audience obediently clapped along with him watching with great amusement how the glove expanded, to four times the size of the performers’ head.
With an enormous “POP !!” the glove burst and the audience cheered and clapped. O.K., it popped, Norman felt the act was somewhat lame. But add the juggling skills, the unicycling, handstands, flip-flops and crowd engaging, that performer was a true multi-tasker. Norman had to admit that much and didn’t hold back with applause himself. It made Norman think and wonder which “jobs” really mattered, which ones made lives a tiny bit better.
Was any nine-to-five job more relevant than the performance of the punk guy ? Who deserved a pension plan, health and dental benefits? Didn’t we all, even the vagabond busker?
One thing Norman suddenly became aware of and quickly was sure about: only very few folks, even the best multi-taskers who never take a day of sick leave, none of them were even close to being as good as this busker was at making children smile.
That ought to count for a lot Norman thought, as he dropped a ten dollar bill along with a few coins into the busker’s hat.
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