David and His Bag of Tricks

Until Stuart ('86) moved back to the United States, his most unusual hobby was playing competitive volleyball in Guam. It wasn't until after he moved to rural Rockbridge County, an hour south of Harrisonburg, that he took up a fairly exotic pastime -- juggling. A family friend was practicing in his front yard, Stuart was intrigued, and that was the beginning.

Now it's his career.

His first two undergraduate years were at Washington and Lee University, at the time all male, in Lexington. "I went there thinking pure academics," he explains, "but I didn't really fit into the fraternity scene."

His brother was an art major at JMU, and Stuart found it a better niche. He transferred in 1984 and majored in history. For one college talent show, Stuart juggled goose eggs. Not realizing after the show that one had developed a crack, he left them in his dorm room. "A few days later there was this awful smell," he remembers, "and I couldn't imagine what was causing it. It took the shine off juggling eggs for some time."

These days Stuart, who has lived in Roanoke for seven years, juggles the usual props -- balls, rings and clubs -- and risks the scarier ones too -- torches, knives
and machetes.

Has he ever injured himself? He thinks for a moment or two, then remembers: "Oh, my arm was on fire one time -- briefly," he adds. He describes the incident, at a festival in Wise, Va., as "embarrassing," but the organizers did hire him back the next year.

Despite the risks of the art, Stuart does mention one quirk in his approach to things; he refuses to buy health insurance. "It's probably not the best common sense," he admits, and the rather radical point of view seems at odds with his quiet speech and low-key modesty.

"I guess I feel that if I can handle knives and torches, there's not much out there that could scare me."

A juggler's seasons fluctuate; busy months may mean 15 to 18 gigs, slower months between four and eight. Stuart supplements his income here and there on occasion by renting out an apartment, working for a local arborist and teaching tennis lessons. And he reluctantly mentions a one-summer stint as a country music deejay.

Gigs include parades, private parties, hotel events, after-school programs and festivals. "I really get pumped up in parades, to tell you the truth," he admits, "you get kind of little snapshots, little vignettes of juggling. You're having to move forward as part of this whole group of people."

Being an artist, Stuart's mother understood his choice of careers perhaps sooner than his father did. "My father was sort of like, 'Oh no, not another one,'" Stuart remembers. "'Couldn't you do something like teach?'"

Instead of a closet of three-piece suits, Stuart's work attire is a choice of Italian Renaissance (purple-striped shirt and beret), Colonial (white blouse with sash and armbands), Victorian English (top hat, ascot and cloak) and medieval jester (tasseled hat and curly-toed shoes). "I have to be careful sometimes where I wear that," Stuart says -- such as the nightclub on downtown Roanoke's Salem Avenue -- where, in Stuart's words, "the jokes are a little rawer and the people are a little rougher. I think I even wore my tights," he says with a laugh.

And he doesn't have a briefcase either. Instead, Stuart carries a real bag of tricks, a duffel filled with juggling accessories as well as toys to amuse the smaller children. He also creates balloon sculptures, especially for the younger crowds.

Stuart practices two hours a day, sometimes in the park across the street from his home, sometimes at the gym and sometimes in his house, a brick two-story in historic southwest Roanoke with hardwood floors and tall windows he shares with two decidedly vocal cats. The high ceilings were part of its allure when Stuart first bought it.

To Stuart, juggling for a living is no big deal. Ten-year-old hecklers or catching the wrong end of a flying machete -- it's all part of the job. "It's pretty tame compared to some things," he insists. "I think my life is pretty nonrisky except for the occasional tossing around of sharp objects.

"You do what you love, and everything else will fall into place." And that includes the torches.