There was a clown that used to work here. A ‘proper’ one, as the brits say, as opposed to your regular office employee with a preference for practical jokes.
His name was Peter, and he was, as I remember, a great clown. It’s been a few years since he’s come through the Center, but in my early days he performed at some of our more family-style events. He’d come in full clown attire, making balloon animals and performing to the delight of young children and their parents.
He taught a juggling class before having a child of his own, and has since ceased teaching indefinitely.
We had an office re-jiggering recently and a box of old, unused juggling balls surfaced out of the mild chaos. They’re tangerine sized cubes filled with shredded nut shells, arranged in packs of three.
Now they’re propped on a box near the upstairs office entrance, ready to greet faculty members and visitors as they come in.
I grabbed a pack and tried my hand at juggling, with moderate success. I wonder if the coordination demands might keep ones mind sharp as the day goes along. Wouldn’t that be great, if instead of coffee in the morning, people juggled down the street?