How I Became a Myachi Master: Part One

By Crazy Ivan

Pinky and I are heading out of town for the weekend to celebrate not being in town for the weekend.  I’m really looking forward to it, but it does present the whole “what about the blog?” issue that I have to tackle beforehand.

Since I won’t be around a computer to update things and since I don’t want to cheat you, the loyal reader, out of original material over the weekend, I’ll be writing up a few things before I leave and I’ll have Animal post them periodically while I’m gone.

One of the things I’d like to offer you is a 3 part story of how I came to be a Myachi Master.  Below is the first part and I’ll publish part two on Saturday and the final part on Sunday.  Hopefully you’ll enjoy it because if not, I won’t know about it until Monday.

Part One: The Myachi Man Cometh

Bonnaroo is one of the nation’s truly incredible events.  2003 was the third year they’d put on the massive music festival and it was my second trip.  Like everyone else, I was there to hang out, listen to some great music and enjoy a few days in the sun.  But these were all secondary priorities.  First and foremost I was there to make some money.

Back then I earned my living as a street performing juggler so events like Bonnaroo were really important to me.  I could make more cash in two days at a festival of 10,000+ than I could in two weeks of performing on the streets of… well pretty much anywhere.

My biggest dollar moments tended to come between big shows.  There was something like 110 bands playing on 5 stages so there wasn’t much time between sets.  I had just caught the tail end of Steve Winwood (I know, right?) and Dave Matthews was about 20 minutes from starting.  That made it the perfect time to pull out all my toys and start jamming.

So I laid down my hat, picked up my clubs and started working the crowd.  I did my devil-stick routine, my cigar box routine, my 3 ball routine and finished with flaming torches.  Usually the torches are the biggest hit of the show but there was a guy in the audience who seemed way more interested in the 3 ball routine.  In one trick from the 3 ball routine, in fact.

My show rapped up and I hounded the audience for a bit of money.  After they’d filed off, this one guy is still there.

“I liked that one back hand trick,” he says.

He was referring to a bit in my 3 ball routine where I juggle on the back of my hands, “thanks.”

“I think you’d be pretty good at my game,” he says and pulls out this little rectangular bag.  Before I even know what’s going on he’s got this thing dancing around him like there was a trained mouse operating it from inside.

“What is that?” I asked, intrigued.

“I call it a Myachi,” he says and tosses it to me.  “Only rule of the game is no palms allowed.”

The first thing I did was a Toe Stall to a Melon Stall, which was my only good Hackey Sack trick.  Then I started getting creative.  He was trying to show me the basics but I was off in my own little world testing the limits of what I could do with this little thing.

“This is awesome,” I said, “How much you want for it?”

He watches me jam for a few minutes.  “Tell you what, you make it look good bro.  Keep it.”

I smiled and reached out to shake his hand but he declined, “No palms allowed,” he reminded me and offered a fist bump instead.

“Aaron,” I said in introduction.

“You can call me the Myachi Man,” he grins and hands me a card proving that he was, in fact, called the Myachi Man.  “Give me a call when this festival’s over.  I might have a job for you if you’re interested.”

As a juggler, you hear stuff like that all the time.  I’m not sure why, but everyone seems to love teasing entertainers with hollow promises of work.  Sure, I would give him a call and maybe he would have a party he needed a juggler for or something like that.  I was just happy to get a free toy.

I have to admit that I didn’t think much of it at the time.  I certainly didn’t think that such a brief encounter was going to change my life forever.

(to be continued)