Read the full transcript of Jeff Civillico’s talk titled “How To Be An Everyday Influencer” at TEDxPurdueU 2024 conference.
Listen to the audio version here:
TRANSCRIPT:
The Journey of Jeff the Juggler
Remember when you were a kid and you used to do anything you could to get your parents’ attention? “Mom! Look it! Look it! Look it! Dad! Watch this!” Cannonball in the pool, impromptu dance recital, whatever it took.
For me, juggling. Juggling was my thing. I became Jeff the Juggler. Gene, John, Jeff. I’m the youngest of three brothers and I was always looking for something to make me stand out. That’s Graham, my first audience. And it all started because of this guy. He was a street performer our family met on a vacation.
He dressed all in green. He juggled torches and machetes and I thought he was so cool. He called himself Peter Panic. We saw him perform on a family trip. He picked me out of the audience and had me do this. That moment changed my life forever. I became fascinated with juggling. I dreamt of having my own show on the Las Vegas Strip.
Ten years old, I’m already thinking Vegas, baby. I performed at theme parks and on cruise ships and then at a certain point in my 20s, I decided it was time. Packed up my car, shoved my unicycles in the back seat and I drove out west. And it happened.
Vegas, Baby!
Vegas, baby. My own show, Jeff Savilico, comedy in action, ran for ten years, six nights a week as a headlining residency with Caesars Entertainment. As I sat there, signing my contract, my own show in Las Vegas, my childhood dream come true. This surreal moment, I thought to myself, “How did I get here?”
Plate on a stick. Peter Panic. How cool would it be if I could find him and tell him the impact he had had on my life? I made it my mission. Go back to Boston, hire a PI, request 1994 surveillance footage from the nearby 7-Eleven. I would search for as long as it took. Took three seconds. Googled him. Peterpanic.com. Website, contact page, phone number.
Next thing I know, I’m talking to my childhood hero. You know when you’re nervous, you start talking like really fast? I mean, who picks up an unknown number? “Hi, Mr. Panic. My name is Jeff Savilico. 20 years ago, you picked me to be a volunteer at one of your shows. My parents bought me a book on juggling. I started doing juggling shows in my kitchen for my grandmom. I dreamt of having my own show on the Las Vegas Strip. Ten years old, I’m already thinking, Vegas, baby. I practiced and practiced and performed at theme parks and comedy clubs and cruise ships and casinos, and I can’t believe it’s happening, but I’m actually about to sign my own contract for my own show in Las Vegas, and I just wanted to say thank you because you were the one who gave me my official start in show business.” Silence. Then, tears.
The Reality of Show Business
Right? So, I’m selling out every night in Vegas. I’m partying with Chris Angel and Mike Tyson. I’ve even got my own tiger. Yeah, no, that is not what happens. You see, I have signed on to four-wall my show. When you’re four-walling, you’re the producer, which means you’re responsible for everything. Branding, marketing, sales, ticketing, tech. That means you’re on the hook for everything. It’s your name on the contract.
Imagine everything you have to do as a performer. Then, add everything you need to do as a producer. That was me, and it did not go well. You know all the financial things they tell you not to do? I did all of those things. Credit cards, maxed out. Money borrowed from family and friends, gone, and every month, I paid myself last, i.e. never. I slept in my dressing room for years.
Every day, I would walk the entire strip, just trying to do anything I could to sell tickets to my show, passing out flyers, handing out coupons, talking to ticket brokers, bellhops, dealers, Elvis impersonators, everybody. Then, I had to actually do this high-energy, upbeat, comedy, juggling, balancing, one-man variety stunt show. I get tired just saying it. I was physically exhausted and emotionally depleted. I was losing faith.
Was I making the right decisions? Was I even headed in the right direction? Did anything I was doing matter? I could see that I was running out of track. I was approaching my breaking point.
A Flashback to Service
Now, time out. In order to understand the next part of the story here, I want to take you back to my freshman year of high school. We had a service assignment. Do something that takes you outside of your comfort zone and write a reflection about the experience. My parents encouraged me to take action. Do a show for Don Guinella Village, a local home for boys and men with intellectual disabilities. Now, keep in mind, this would be my first show outside of the kitchen. This was a big deal.
I did it, I loved it, and now I know that show specifically instilled in me a love for performing and a love for service. I taught my high school buddies how to juggle. We did charity shows all over Philadelphia. I don’t want to brag, but in 1999, we were the hottest act on the nursing home market. There’s something grounding about this type of service. It gives you perspective. It’s powerful to be able to make someone who’s going through a tough time smile, to make them laugh, to provide an escape.
Finding Purpose in Service
Okay, back to the story. So at this point, you know, things are not going great for Jeff the Juggler.
So like I had done throughout the years, I decided to do a local show at a children’s hospital for some families who could really use a smile. But this time, it was different.
The thing is, the entertainment industry can be pretty self-centered. It was me, me, me, 24-7. It was one-dimensional. And at that time, that one dimension for me was bad. It was pulling down all the other aspects of my life. These volunteer shows at hospitals changed me. I was given immediate, undeniable proof that what I was doing mattered. It was valuable at an exact moment in time, exactly when it was happening to very specific people in that moment.
I so desperately needed that. These charity shows helped me keep going because the signs were there. People did love the show. We were winning awards. People were posting great reviews. The numbers were picking up. And it took time, but eventually, we pulled through. Vegas, baby.
So let me jump you forward a few years here now. By this point, I was familiar with the nervous energy that comes from taking the stage every night at the Flamingo. But there is nothing that can prepare you for a room-to-room hospital visit. You never know what you’re walking into.
So this time, I decided I would walk in and just kind of roll with it, see what happened. I see a boy and a grandfather. Now, the boy is the patient. He obviously had just been through some sort of procedure. He’s kind of dozing in and out, you know, half there. So I’m talking mostly with the grandfather. And I say this, “Hey man, can I borrow your hat for a second?” I do this little trick. Just like that. I give him two tickets to my show. “Hey, when you’re feeling up to it, you guys come by the show and tell me what you think.”
Six months later, I’m doing the after show meet and greet, and I see them, Tyler and Grandpa Erickson. Tyler is running around, acting like a total kid. The grandfather comes up to me and he says, “Man, you have no idea what you did.” Now, I’m still in entertainer mode at this point, right, like after the show. So I’m like, “Hey, hey, thanks, man. Yeah, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the show.” He’s like, “No, no, no, like, listen to me, man.” He goes, “My grandson wasn’t eating before you came in our room. That little thing with the hat, he just kept trying to copy you, kept trying to balance it. We looked you up on YouTube, watching all your videos. Man, he thinks you’re so cool. He couldn’t wait to see the show. Thank you.” Silence. Then tears.
Reconnecting with Peter Panic
So I decided after all these years, I want to meet Peter in person, right? Go back, reconnect with him. You know, when you’re a kid, you’ve got like no idea how old anyone is. I thought this dude was going to be like 95. I’m 30 in this picture. He was 42.
I tell him, “Hey, man, after 10 years on the Las Vegas trip, I have set my final show for December 18th, 2019.” Side note, that turned out to be amazing timing. 10 years doing anything is a long time. And I had something beyond Vegas I wanted to accomplish. I wanted my last show to be special. So ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my friend, Peter Mannix.
“Wow. That’s amazing. You didn’t think I was real, did you?”
“I thought it was just a made up story. Um, wow. This is incredible. It’s all true. It’s all true. And I refuse to take any kind of credit. Let’s have a big hand for Jeff Palin. I didn’t do anything. I am a juggler, a professional juggler. I ride unicycles and do shows and I use the kid as a volunteer. But as I said to him, not all of those kids grew up to be Jeff DeVille-icos.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No, I’m talking to Peter. He’s never done this before.”
“All right. Here we go. Ready? Up, down, faster. Every other. There we go. Yeah. All right. We’re going to shower. Eight, nine, ten. Here we go. Yeah. Ten for the panel. Just kidding. Eight, nine, ten. There it is. Give it up again. Thank you very much. Keep it up when we’re done. This is Peter Mannix.”
We need to remind ourselves where we come from and what we have the power to do. So often we don’t like to be the hero of our own story. We do everything we can to defer, deflect, deny our influence. You probably didn’t catch this the first time around. I certainly did not. But Peter denies his influence three times. Pretty sure there’s a Bible joke in there somewhere. Just missing the rooster.
Number one: “Wow. This is incredible. It’s all true. It’s all true. And I refuse to take any kind of credit. Let’s have a big hand for Jeff.” I literally flew the dude across the country to say you changed my life. And he defers.
Number two: “I didn’t do anything. I am a juggler, a professional juggler. I ride unicycles.” You can almost hear him say, “I’m just a juggler.” He’s not a hero. He’s just a juggler.
And number three: “I used the kid as a volunteer. But as I said to him, not all of those kids grew up to be Jeff Sibelico.”
I appreciate where he’s coming from. In that moment, it was my last show, and he was trying to show me some love. But in that moment, his filter was so tight. He wasn’t seeing all the other good he had done for the non-jugglers. Think about how many people Peter was influencing, doing multiple shows a day, every day, for years. There’s a lesson in that for all of us.
A New Dream: Bringing Smiles to Hospitals
So what dream was bigger than Vegas? It was, and still is, my nonprofit. We exist to bring smiles to kids in hospitals. Everyone donates their time and talent. We have jugglers, magicians, musicians, singers, dancers, actors, ventriloquists, comedians. We are professional entertainers, and we perform live and virtually in hospitals across the United States.
I never thought of myself as a person of influence. I certainly never thought that my day-to-day actions could change lives. It never dawned on me that I could be in the Peter Panic role, that I could be creating my own Peter Panic moments in someone else’s life.
Our ability to impact the world is not correlated with the size of our circle of influence, online or off. When we focus on what we can do, we put out ripples that have the power to create real, lasting change.
Peter didn’t realize he was an influencer, but he was. I didn’t realize I was an influencer, but I am. And now there’s you. Intention doesn’t create ripples. Action creates ripples. When you take action, inevitably there will be influence, which fosters more action, which creates more influence. It’s a continuum. You have more power than you may realize.
So the only question now is, what are you going to do?
