I claimed that I could juggle

Pin It Every year I have my class do a game where they tell something unique or unusual about themselves. I always start off with, “My name is Mr. Z and I can juggle butcher knives.”

I can, really.

I’ve said this for so many years, yet, I haven’t juggled them for an awfully long time.

This past Friday I was invited by a friend to someone’s house—someone I didn’t know. This in itself can be a marathon in social endurance; however, my friend assured me that this family was ‘cool,’ and therefore worthy of visitation.

I was a bit hesitant as I drove across town, my iPod playing an upbeat song, reminding me that I was here to enjoy each and every minute of my life.

When I arrived at said house, I put on an air of excitement—my ‘game face’ if you will—and knocked on the door.

I found myself pleasantly surprised.

The evening was a lot of fun with games such as Scum, and others which I cannot remember the names for.

After playing for a bit, everyone started engaging in the fine art of conversation. It was nice…then, it came up.

I can juggle butcher knives.

I’m pretty sure the host was thinking that I was spinning a tale, and made the offhanded comment, “You know, I’ve got some knives right here.”

I stood and followed him to the kitchen, and selected a few knives which seemed to be about equal in weight and balance. Since they had a wooden floor in the kitchen, I walked calmly to the living room and stood there. Everyone got silent. They were all secretly wondering the same thing I’m sure, “Can he really juggle knives?”

I asked for additional lights to be turned on and others off so that my vision wouldn’t be impeded. I moved to an open area of the living room where no furniture was around. I even took a deep breath, and firmly squared my shoulders.

“Just kidding,” I said with a laugh. “I really can’t juggle.”

A few people exchanged knowing smiles. Of course this guy really didn’t know how to juggle knives. What normal person can do a thing like that?

It was at this point that I threw one of the knives in the air and deftly caught it again.

I can’t express how exciting it was to watch the blade twist in the air, the lights glinting off of the razor-sharp edge. It was as if something which has lain dormant inside of me suddenly flickered into life again.

I threw the carver in the air a second time and caught it—everyone was silent.

I started to juggle them, the blades and handles spinning in front of me.

I would love to say that I dazzled everyone with double-throws and some of the tricks I used to know, but I didn’t. I do have to say that thought the knives were bright and shiny; I was the one who was rusty.

It’s been so long since I’d juggled. that I wasn’t as good as I once was. Of course, everybody was impressed that I could do it at all, but I knew that I was capable of so much more than what I’d displayed that night.

When I came home I scoured my house, looking for my knives. I haven’t found them yet, but just know this…I soon will and it won’t be long before I have reacquired that slumbering and dormant skill.

By the way, these are a few shots of my 'earlier juggling days' with my friend, Hazen.


5 was the most I could do. I tried for 6, but it never quite worked out.