During my retirement years, I have learned to juggle a 16-pound shot put. I’ll take your questions.

Keep three of those babies aloft at the same time? They should name a circus after you.

Silly. I’m 73 years old. One weighty object. Two bean bags.

Why should we believe you?

My wife shot a video. She caught me on a good day. I almost got to a dozen passes.

What’s the backstory here?

I started juggling baseballs long ago when I coached my kids’ teams. It was something to do in the dugout instead of watching us overthrow the cut-off man. The third-graders got a big kick out of it, so I told them I’d add an eight-pound bowling ball to the act if we made the playoffs. We didn’t, but I mastered the trick 

anyway. 

What was your secret to success?

Channeling my inner Paul Bunyan.

And the shot put?

A birthday present. I decided to stage the occasional track and field competition – well, field – with myself. And like all shot-putters worth their sinews, I had a great grunt – “HARRUMGOOSBAH,” just as the thing left my fingers.

You threw it in the back yard?

I wanted to give the neighbors something to talk about, and the mole population went down by 80 percent. They hate it when the round ball hits home.

So we have a grown person devaluing his property by heaving a shot put on his lawn. 

Did I mention the boys on the team cheered me on? They especially enjoyed it when I farted trying to squeeze out those extra inches.

Did your wife threaten an intervention?

No, because she understood the plus side. We lived in a rural area and I don’t own a gun. Any prowler would have received a face full of shot put. We agreed that would be a must-see mug shot.

We conducted a Google search for Jugglers Of Ponderous Masses and your name did not come up. What happened?

When I no longer had baseball kids to goof around with, I put away my bowling ball and shot put. It was like the Peter, Paul and Mary song, “Puff The Magic Dragon.” Dragons live forever, but not so little boys.

The “Puff” thing. Did you inhale?

Never mind that. Suffice to say the heavy stuff was relegated to the deep recesses of the basement. Decades went by. I retired from juggling except for the occasional request for a parlor trick when I’d grab something like a spoon, a mustard packet and a salt shaker.

So you moved on with your life and quit assassinating moles.

Yes. And then the pandemic hit. I was bored out of my mind, so I started fooling around with the shot put.

Level with us. There must be another reason to toss weight.

Maybe the right person will bear witness and give me money.

Not very likely.

Hey, maybe if I grunt loud enough.

You’re well into your golden years. Isn’t it hard for a man your age to keep the ball of iron aloft?

I can hold a plank for three minutes and do more than my share of push-ups. I engage in some kind of strength training almost every day. See earlier reference to boredom.

Do you practice safe shot put?

Yes. I juggle over the bed. Better to have a dent in the mattress than my foot.