Juggler Is Intriguing, But Act Is Hard To Sell
Authors go on book signing tours all the time. Even Adam West (that’s right, Batman) did it this year.
So, why not do the same with how-to videos?
Bret Wengeler, “World Class Juggler,” found out Saturday. Wengeler was at University City Shopping Center, promoting a new juggling video that’s supposed to make even klutzes into circus stars.
He offered to sign one of his tapes for someone gawking at the demo playing in the mall. The person just looked at him, backed up silently, then scrammed.
Oh well. Maybe signings are out of the question for now. Wengeler, who went to high school in Cheney, is used to struggling with juggling. The 31-year-old said it takes years of auditioning before a regular gig comes around.
But the gigs do come now. He’s worked at theme parks, performed on cruise ships, toured Japan and had a starring role in a Plymouth Voyager commercial.
The fans are only a matter of time.
Wengeler showed off in front of the new Hands-On Hobbies store, which stocks his tape. He was salesman and jester.
A family strolled past, saw the video and stopped. Wengeler ran up and started his spiel. “This tape teaches how to juggle three, four and five balls …”
No sale. Wengeler went on juggling, but this wasn’t a real show. “You need to juggle fire or something for that,” he said. “I could have brought a chain saw …”
Security guard Brian Migliore was listening in. “How do you build up to chain saws?” he asked. “I’m going to have him juggle kids.”
Wengeler put the balls away and decided to juggle sticks. Good, good - oops. Dropped one. A lady and two little girls walked past. One of the girls laughed at the foible.
“That’s not very supportive,” said the other girl.
Sue McCaskey and her 14-year-old son, John, stopped when they saw the spectacle. Mom bought a tape. “He already knows how to juggle,” she said of her son, but he could use a few pointers. John made that “Oh, Mom, gimme a break” face, and they left in a hurry.
Wengeler was now on a roll. He was juggling five big clubs. “My God,” said a passing mailman.
John and Margaret Wittemberg looked at the TV screen, then at Wengeler and back again. “Who’s that guy?” Margaret asked, pointing to the monitor.
“That’s me,” Wengeler said. Then came the pitch. “Do you have any children or grandchildren?”
Although a signature line never formed, at least one fan was made. Derek Underwood, 11, watched Wengeler bounce balls off the ground in kind of an upside-down juggle. Derek’s eyes followed up and down like a metronome.
“That would be a cool job,” he said. “Construction is better, though. You get paid just to demolish stuff.”
“I’ve demolished stuff,” Wengeler replied. Just then, two brothers, Emory and Owen Lewis walked up. Emory, 14, said he knew a friend who could juggle, but he couldn’t.
“He didn’t show you the secret,” Wengeler said. “It’s magnets in the fingertips. It’s a simple procedure done on an outpatient basis.”
“Smooth,” said big brother Owen. They left, but not Derek.
He dared Wengeler to do something tough, like juggle grenades. Wengeler reached into his chest and whipped out just such a pea-green pineapple. Derek’s eyes went huge.
Wengeler juggled the grenade and two swords. Two little boys passed by. “Those are fake,” said one. “Nuh-uh,” said the other.
Derek, though, was sold. “This dude is cool,” he said.
, DataTimes