![]() |
![]() My stay was short lived in Hawaii because it came to my attention that little Harry Shuckler (One of my old juggling group members) had mysteriously fallen out of 12 story window. At the time Harry was headlining in a small club off the main strip in Las Vegas called the Blue Mango Dance Inn. I received the call almost immediately after I arrived in paradise and the voice on the other end was none other than Jimmy Sausage, my old manager…not the voice I wanted to hear. But Mr. Sausage convinced me to come fill the tiny shoes of Harry Sheckler. At first I was intimidated because I knew I couldn't draw the same numbers that a 3 year old juggling phenom could draw. But I was determined to show the world that I was a great juggler. When I reached the Blue Mango Dance Inn, I huge wash of disappointment came over me because the building had been condemned for about 3 years according to the signs posted on the brown door. I walked over to the stoop leading into a cargo bay of the building and took a well-deserved seat. I sat on that stoop for a good three hours before I saw Jimmy Sausage's White El Camino pull up to the sidewalk. He leaned out the window like only Jimmy Sausage could. His whole head stuck out as bellows of smoke poured from the partially drawn window. He started all over with his old shenanigans telling me that my ass "Looked like a blueberry muffin…all it needed was a little butter." So I found myself back on a plane to Washington because my agent arranged a gig with D.A.R.E. that I originally turned down…The best decision of my life.
Continue reading. |