"How’s it going?", I ask Steve Mills on a cell-to-cell connection
that is spotty, at best.
"It’s hard to believe I’m me," he answers, and sends out a chortle
that instantly clears the phone connection. I didn’t know you could do
that.
Minutes after his first show of an 11-day run at the Dixie Classic
Fair in Winston-Salem, NC, he is chipper and upbeat.
Friends, I’ve been to fairs of this ilk and at least two of the
following conditions always exist: dusty, hot, loud, smelly, crowded,
under-appreciated, and surrounded by bad food. I would think that after
23 years of such engagements, his answer to my question would be more on
the level of "getting by", or "completely brain dead".
I mean, in rough numbers I figure he’s kicked over 20,000 corn dogs,
soda cups, and cotton-candy cones off the stages of every fairground in
America before starting yet another show. And still, he’s pinching
himself to make sure this isn’t a dream?
"Every time I do a show I get a rush like it’s the first time. Each
show for me is another chance to introduce my family and make another
300 friends."
Did you feel it? Just now my readers divided into two camps. First,
those who know Steve Mills are smiling and hearing his animated, almost
cartoonish voice as it stumbles to stay with up his thoughts. And
second, those who don’t know him are rolling their eyes and thinking,
‘What’s this guy smoking?’.
The good news is that both sides will benefit by continuing on: The
first group will enjoy this virtual visit with an old friend, while the
second can be introduced to a father, and his performing family, who is
doing exactly what he was put on earth to do.
This past summer I packed my wife and 13-month old son into the car
and drove one hour to an economically depressed migrant farming town in
northern California called Yuba City. After 15 years of friendship with
Steve and his wife Carol, I was finally going to see their show. A short
bit on TV, a few quick spots at a juggling convention, a decade-old
promotional tape – I was familiar with what they did, but in a small
gymnasium filled with 200 rough-and-tumble pre-teens, my family and I
were going to take in the full spectacle that was The Dazzling Mills
show.
We were excited. It was like getting to see Anthony Gatto but with
more people on stage, and fewer props in the air.
(Speaking of which, I saw Anthony perform in Las Vegas a few weeks
ago – OH MY GOD! All Hail the Chief. I pity the juggler in 50 years who
only gets to read about his greatness. But, I digress.)
Steve and Carol met at a juggling convention in 1977 and were married
in 1978. Carol, a six-time Women’s Unicycle Champion, was wooed by the
man who would soon invent a rite-of-passage trick for any juggler called
The Mills Mess.
Immediately following their wedding, they hit the road and two months
later ended up in California with liquid assets totaling $1.62. The tour
was going well emotionally, but the financials seemed to be lagging
behind the laughs and good times.
"We were actually fine – unless we wanted to buy something," Steve
muses. "We went to Westwood, just outside of UCLA, and did shows between
the Hare Krishna revivals. They were our musical accompaniment," Steve
adds just prior to another static-clearing belly laugh. "We went into
bars and did tricks between bands in the early days. It was easy and it
taught us that we would never starve."
Like the directors of vaudeville shows decades ago, the Mills
realized that audiences like being entertained during set changes, band
breakdowns, and before the show even starts.
While no one would call them Gandhi and Mother Teresa, Steve and
Carol weren’t big fans of the bar scene. The duo began to work in a
venue that allowed them do their shows and lay their heads to rest
without smelling like cigarettes and spilled beer.
They built a show for school assemblies and became so successful in
that market that there are some schools they have performed at for more
than 20 years. "We’ve literally grown up at certain elementary schools
around the country," Steve says.
Sitting in the audience, my wife and son laughed and clapped while I
took in every nuance of a performing venue I had never worked: watching
how Steve spoke to the kids, and never down to them; how Carol’s skill
on the tall unicycle captivated the imaginations of every last kid that
cheered her on; how the teachers smiled to see Michelle (added to the
family, and hence the act, in 1986), and Anthony (circa 1991), dance,
juggle balls and rings, pedal, pass clubs, and then top off a 4-man high
on a unicycle. I saw kids locked in a gaze. Watching this family was so
unique an experience that they weren’t even sure of what to do except
laugh. I was floored by the exchange of energy, and, of course, I
enjoyed the show.
Michelle first appeared on stage when she was just 3-days old. "You
guys want to see one more thing?", Steve asked the kids who were banging
their feet on the wooden floor after a school show in 1986. The kids
screeched in unison and Steve went to the crib where Michelle was
sleeping. He picked her up and told the kids, "Juggling tricks are great
and I’m glad you liked our show, but here is the best thing I’ve done in
my life." The kids applauded and whistled until Michelle woke up and
smiled. Talk about being born into show business!
Now at 17 years old, she is very calm and in control during the skill
and comedy portions of the show. An accomplished unicyclist in her own
right – three time National Junior Champion – her character is gentle
and lovable. She does several solo routines during the show along with
some nice silent comedy bits behind mom and dad.
"We never really planned on having kids," Steve confesses. "When we
got pregnant we just figured we’d have to wind down, quit traveling and
stop doing shows." Needless to say, they’re still working on a
retirement date.
Six years after Michelle’s big debut, the Mills were at the IJA
Convention in St. Louis when Steve snuck out with some friends to play a
round of golf. While contemplating a long putt on the 14th
green, Carol, who was at the gym with some old friends, went into labor
with their second child. She was taken to the hospital and someone
headed out to find Steve. Later that night the Dazzling Mills were a
quartet. And this fourth member – he is the one that I saw light up a
school auditorium like a flare on a dark highway.
The facial expressions of Jerry Lewis, the dance moves of Michael
Jackson, the charisma of Tony Robbins, and the juggling moves of the
Mills’ lineage. Anthony (yes, named after the aforementioned Mr. Gatto)
rocked the house and had the kids tugging on each other’s shirts in a
did-you-see-what-he-just-did kind of way. I didn’t know if it was more
fun to watch him, or to watch the audience watch him. Hoping to pick up
a few professional tips, I mostly watched him.
"We start the show out mainly with Carol and I doing stunts and the
kids hanging in the background. By the end of the show, Michelle and
Anthony are in full swing and we get to watch them have fun," Steve says
of their format. The family’s poodle, Snow Oui (Snowy), has a few
memorable moments in the show, as well.
"You know how they say don’t follow kids or pets? We don’t."
Juggling wise, their show doesn’t push the limits technically, but it
is perfect for the venue. Mostly balls, rings and clubs as far as the
toss juggling goes, but then there is the leaf blower. Every eye in the
building is watching the crazy man with the loud leaf blower. He tells
the kids he is going to do an impression of himself riding a motorcycle
and then points the blower directly into his face. His lips, eyes, nose
and cheeks expand to occupy three times the facial real estate they’re
normally allotted. It sends the audience into hysterics – the kids
slapping anything they can reach, the teachers shaking their heads and
trying hide their laughter. It’s ghastly funny.
Steve then perches the blower up on his chin and tosses a beach ball
into its exhaust stream. It hovers a foot above the blower and the kids
are fully engaged. Steve juggles three clubs and the applause and
whistles tell the story.
Several variations of 4-person, 12-club passing, including a line,
feed, and criss-cross are performed flawlessly.
Carol has one heck of a time climbing up Steve and a male teacher
trying to get onto her six-foot unicycle but once she’s up, her
inner-champion shows ultimate control. Crazy riding – forwards,
backwards, quick spins and rapid deceleration to a stop just inches from
the front row. She then jumps rope on a tall unicycle and the audience
can’t stop giving it up for her.
One of the most surreal moments of the show is when the Mills’ invite
a female teacher up onto the stage. Carol does some nice verbal
interplay with her and then, without warning or permission, she is
sitting high atop Steve’s shoulders and just screaming, "Put me down!
Put me down!". The audience is going nuts and Steve is climbing onto a
unicycle. She’s yelling, "Put me down!" and Steve looks like he’s taking
a stroll around Central Park on a Sunday afternoon. The woman is bright
red, visibly shaken, and still yelling, "Put me down!" He finally does,
and somehow, after she’s back on terra firma, she finds the wherewithal
to smile and hug him. Straight out of a comic book, I tell you.
The twist on all the wackiness is this: they inspire audiences better
than any act I’ve ever seen. Through the phrasing of their jokes, kids
just get it. They aren’t beat over the head with a lot of dogma that
sounds like a lesson. The kids in that auditorium felt better after the
show and I doubt they even knew why. This family act opens many doors
and lets kids, and adults, peek inside at a positive picture.
This year they stress helping students find their own special talent.
Steve asks a kid, "Have you ever tried something and weren’t good at it
the first time?" The young boy hems and haws and finally comes up with
something. Steve cracks, "Oh come on... I can think of about a dozen
things you weren’t good at the first time." He goes on to list all
things the boy had to learn as a baby. It’s hilarious and by the end of
the list a light bulb goes off in the mind of each kid about the
learning process.
The Dazzling Mills travel at least 45,000 miles each year bringing
their show to schools, fairs, and corporate events. Each and every one
of those miles is in their brand new GMC 4-door diesel truck that’s
pulling a 30-foot trailer. This is the vehicle you see on the highway
and do whatever it takes to get ahead of before the road shifts back to
one lane. In the back of the GMC they carry their entire show, bikes,
motor scooters, a warehouse of hobbies – even a washer and dryer!
Michelle and Anthony are both home schooled and have been most of
their scholastic career. Michelle was in public school for 3 weeks and
Anthony did 4th and 5th grade registered in a
public school. They were working cruise ships at the time so it was
mostly a matter of getting assignments and turning them in when they
returned home.
"There was a problem with that system for us. We would go away for a
3-weeks and Anthony would have all the work finished in about 4 days,"
Carol says.
"Ninety nine percent of the comments we get from people on the road
are about the positive family experience we are sharing with our kids,"
Steve says. Once in a while people will ask them if they think the kids
are missing something by not being in public schools. Steve turns it by
answering, "Oh, absolutely! And isn’t it wonderful that they aren’t
subjected to all that negativity and lowest-common-denominator
learning?! People usually walk away stunned," Steve says, and treats me
to another maniacal laugh.
I hadn’t seen Michelle since she was 8 and had never met Anthony. I
walked up to them after getting the standard issue spinal-adjusting hug
from Steve. They looked me directly in the eye, smiled, said something
funny and played with my baby. I was blow out of the water by both of
the kids and how mature and respectful they were.
Right before we hung up the phone, I asked Steve what else he would
have liked to have done in his life. After seeing the family a few month
ago and just spending an hour on the phone with him, I was just starting
to understand exactly how good it was to be Steve Mills.
Six years ago he turned 40 and had just bought a bus. He had no work,
nothing on the calendar, and he couldn’t think of anything to change the
outlook.
"Christianity helped," he shares. I was focusing on the fear and then
read that God doesn’t give fear. I shifted my focus [away from the fear]
and almost instantly the phone started ringing. I feel blessed to still
be doing the only thing I ever wanted to do."
So next time you see Steve, give him a pinch and let him know this
isn’t a dream. He’s beat the odds – shattered the norm – on
unemployment, divorce, and teen violence. He travels the world and gets
to share every experience he has with the people that mean the most to
him. He’s a winner in the lottery of life.
So after all the number crunching and karmic balancing, it appears
that Steve Mills will only be credited with creating one mess in his
lifetime.