Shouldn’t it be obvious who to pick from a crowd to be part of your bit? Maybe one of many people jumping up and down making the crowd look like popcorn popping? Someone obviously enthusiastic to be part of your street performance—the people on “The Price Is Right” come to mind?
The Fantastick Patrick walked right up to me and asked, “Will you be my knife lady?” When did the rules of audience safety change? You’re supposed to ask for volunteers. You’re supposed to pick one of the popping pieces of popcorn wanting to “Come on down!” not the shy introvert who wants nothing to do with bringing attention to herself.
The one who knows where cameras are and works to avoid them—usually successfully. The one who is part of the stage crew, not the stage performance.
But when a shy introvert is asked to do something in front of a crowd, even though you want to tell the asker the errors of his ways and why he really must choose another—you also don’t want that discussion to suddenly become part of the bit and to prolong your agony.
What exactly is a “knife lady?” The bottom line of this portion of the act was Patrick getting himself onto his 6-foot unicycle, where he’d then juggle three knives. Of course, it’s never that simple for an entertainer.
First, he must have the crowd laughing at the expense of the three men he’s recruited to hold his unicycle for him, followed by the “knife lady” who then gets to take her turn as the focus of laughs and entertainment.
Beyond the conflicting thoughts of not wanting to be part of this bit and yet not wanting to do anything that will screw up the bit—it’s darn scary to toss knives at someone. Three times, no less.
Hours later, in calm retrospect, I realize that I was holding those three knives for a significant period—I guess I should have checked how sharp they were. I was more worried that my sweaty palms were making the handles too slippery for Patrick to grab when I was no doubt going to have to get them to him by some means.
Eventually the torture did end. I successfully got all three knives to Patrick so he could juggle them while riding his unicycle, and no one was stabbed in the process. I don’t want to consider how many cellphone cameras were turned my way—well, The Fantastick Patrick’s way but picking up me as well.
I’ve heard multiple performers talk of the first time they made someone laugh and how they became hooked from that moment and built a career in entertainment based on working to repeat the thrill of applause. For me, I’m either not stopping at all for the next street performer or standing way at the far, far back of the crowd behind a person much taller than me.
The Des Moines Art Festival continues Saturday 11-10 and Sunday 11-5 in the John and Mary Pappajohn Sculpture Park in Western Gateway Park in downtown Des Moines. The Fantastick Patrick attacks the unsuspecting at the intersection of 15th and Grand.
