I’m still in Colorado, having been joined by my family, and we’ve completed the requisite hikes, multi-night camping trips, and altitude jokes. Tonight, one more notch on the ol’ belt — street performers on Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. 

First we got ice-cream because apparently it’s National Ice-Cream Day, and who am I to snub a holiday?

Then, we settled in on the pavement to listen to The Zipcode Man. You guys, I’m not kidding you, this man is phenomenal. He has folks call out their zipcode and then he says, “Oh, so you’re from East Lansing (or Brooklyn, or Lafayette or Bowling Green),” all casual-like. And then he’ll say something like, “Do you ever eat at that Old Mill Supper Club?” Or, “You must live right near Bowman Street.” 

His grand finale was gathering about 20 people at once, placing them around a sort of makeshift map by zip code, REMEMBERING each specific zip code, and then telling a story about each person travelling to the next place on the map. And the story was funny. And I think he might’ve been juggling while he talked. 

Sheesh. Some people really know how to pull a rabbit out of a hat. 

I don’t have a photographic memory. OK, so I’ve barely got a memory at all. I think that’s why Zipcode Man really blew my mind. But also just because he’s a quintessential performer. An entertainer. An artist, really. He’s got something good and special, he presents it with humour and generosity, and his audience feels kind of lucky that they stumbled upon this particular piece of sidewalk in time for the show. 

And I’m thinking, that’s what I want to be when I grow up. That kind of entertainer. Y’know. Without the zipcode thing…