Bear blog

They're a strange bunch, these unicyclists. It didn't really strike me as that terrible last year, but really. They're just awful.

 

Who gets up at 8.30 on a Saturday? To eat cereal, of all things. And not one of them (other than maybe Parry) looked particularly rough. That's because they all went to bed at 10. On mass. After spending a terribly enjoyable night at the ceilidh. Dancing like fools while some fat old bloke with thinning hair tapped his foot.

 

I had quite a good Friday night, however. Roger directed us to the lamest take-away emporium ever. One curry place (well and truly closed), one chinese place (about five seconds away from closing and considerably irritated at Dave placing an order) and one pizza place (open, but a bit shit). Getting five people rammed into Rob's car was fun though. Especially when we started giggling like school-girls at his driving. As it turns out, donner meat and chips is quite good juggling fodder. Greg handed me over my shiny new Henry Circus clubs. I ordered nine but got given seven and the promise of more to come. Fair enough. They were irritatingly new and shiny though so we spent the rest of the night battering them. Or rather Dave and Parry did. I think they were pretending to be Get The Shoe. I don't think they quite had the chemistry though. Bless.

 

After a few words of advice from Mamph and Rob I am now officially learning 4 clubs. And very well, too. 37 catches by Saturday teatime. Get in. I'm aiming for 50 within the next week, just to piss off Darren. How long did that take you again, mate?

 

I think what I liked so much about Friday night was that after the Ceilidh poeple had packed up and gone home, and all the little unicycle people had tucked themselves up in bed, there were just juggly people left. And I like them, me. And there was space. Space enough to prat about and juggle and sit down for a bit, n'allsorts. It makes a change. Saturday wasn't much worse though. Credit where credit's due, the Billingham team have a site that is fit for purpose. Last year I got incredibly pissed off that once the hockey had got going on Saturday there was absolutely nowhere to do anything else for the rest of the weekend. Not so in Billingham. Hockey in one hall, unicyclists in another, me in the third. It worked very well. I got to see a bit of the freestyle comps too. Maddy was my convention highlight with her doubles act. I don't know who she was doubling with, unfortunately. Some random. They were very good though, and stuck it to the establishment good and proper. As is only correct. "Mount a unicycle? You're so unhip I'm surprised you can walk!" Round of applause. Mad cheering. Standing ovation. Bravo.

 

I decided not to do the show this year. It wasn't sounding promising and from the sound of it I really didn't miss much. The only thing I would have possibly liked to see again was Lucus' routine which suitably impressed me earlier in the afternoon. It makes a change to see a unicyclist with an act, rather than just performing trick after mind-numbing trick. He had a costume and everything. And called attention to his crotch. Two absolute musts for any act.

 

It's pretty much a given now that I won't be going to another BUC. Yes, it's nice that it's a convention with food thrown in (almost literally) but I am a juggler. I do not get up early, and although I do go to bed quite early in deference to my wonderful complexion and cheery demeanour I passionately hate the enforced routine of BUC. It simply doesn't suit me. Conventions are for dossing around and chatting to people, and occasionally juggling or riding just to fill in the gaps. I don't want to be ferried from workshop to competition to hockey match to lunch to workshop to competition to dinner to show all weekend. Where's the fun in that? Being charged £40 for the privilege irks me somewhat too.

 

Still, less than three weeks to Bungay now. I'm planning on ploughing through all the terribly stressful things I need to do this year before we go down there in order that Suffolk's relaxing natural vapours might soothe away my frustrations. That's BUC well and truly ticked off the list, anyway. Now, buying a house...