This year's birthday was about accomplishing things I never was able to accomplish or didn't have time for. Well, it seems some things are beyond me.
I can't juggle. I just have to accept that, along with the fact that nobody will let me star in a movie adaptation of my novel Matthew Has Sex With Several Beautiful Women.
I've tried to juggle for over a decade. I read an article back then that stated juggling helped stave off dementia. I'm deathly afraid of dementia, of having my mind slowly crumble away without realizing it.
Sometimes I wonder if it's already happening.
|Now that I think about it, where did I put my car keys? Hm.|
I got that Juggling for the Complete Klutz book. It should have been called Juggling With Incomplete Instructions. I lost the balls, found them months later, tried again, lost them again. I never managed to juggle more than two at a time. I gave up; it seemed dementia was inevitable.
|Now that I think about it, where did I park my car? Hm.|
Last year, I went on a Disney cruise to Alaska. If you've never been on a cruise, it's like being in a prison where they try to keep you entertained so you don't riot.
|And stuffed so full you can't stand up to complain.|
One of the entertainers was a juggler named Michael Holly (he's good, you should check out his YouTube channel). While searching for a lost child, I ran across him sitting on the deck watching the icebergs go by. We talked, and I mentioned I'd never been able to juggle. He directed me to his Learn to Juggle videos.
Here's part 1 of 3 if you're curious:
I pulled out my old Klutz juggling balls. Over the last few months I've watched Holly's videos and tried the lessons almost every day. Last week, I lost one of the juggling balls (a good rule for life: never let kids play with your balls) and realized something: best I could do was two. Even after all the practice I put in, even switching techniques, I hadn't improved at all.
Perhaps I already have dementia.
|Now that I think about it, where did I put the toilet? Hm.|