Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Primate motivate

I don't know where he first heard the phrase, but I'm sure it's not original with him. We were watching a young magician who (so far) had learned all his magic via video. He apparently knew no complete effects, but he could shuttle pass, Sybil cut, and Sylvester Pitch with the best of them. BS Andrews turned to me and said two words:

"Move monkey."

Perfect. Those two words said it all.

I still chuckle when I think about that moment.

"Move monkey."

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Mothers, tell your children

A story about one of my weirder gigs:

A friend from work knew I was a magician. He also knew some folks who were getting married and were looking for entertainers for their reception. He asked me to come down for an audition. I agreed.

I showed up at the audition. A number of other people were there. The couple getting married were Vietnamese; I was the only Westerner present. I did my bit, they liked it, I got booked and I hung around. The band (two people; a guitarist/singer and a guy with a keyboard with a number of sampled sounds) was jamming and various people would grab the mike. They came to a song I knew so I figured what the heck.

I'm a pretty good singer. I'm not as good as most professionals but better than your average karaoke singer. When I was done the room erupted! They asked me if I would sing at the wedding as well as do magic. They wanted me to do the song I had just performed. I tried to argue but they would have none of it.

I wasn't arguing out of false modesty. I was arguing over song choice. The song I had arbitrarily grabbed the mike for on that fateful audition? "House of the Rising Sun." That's right, the song I sang at a Vietnamese wedding reception was an American blues number about a boy whose life was ruined because he visited a house of prostitution.

In retrospect, a perfect wedding song.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

A night on the town

Yeah, I'm ready, baby! Ready for a night on the town. I've got my derby, my vest, my rainbow suspenders, my "I'm a Magician!" button and my bunny button with the flashing eyes. My rainbow silk shirt is clean and my dice cufflinks are ready to go.

My pockets are loaded:
two thumb tips, sponge balls, sponge bunnies, sponge ding-dong, hot rod, color changing knife, two thimbles, eight pieces of rope prepared for cut 'n restored, one pair of scissors (ooh, better move those a little...), breakaway wand, mini set of linking rings, a Kiss the Magician packet trick (strangers love to do that, ya know!), and fifteen assorted trick decks.

I know all the gags:
"Show me your hand... no, the clean hand.... oh, I guess that was your clean hand."
"Show the card to all your friends... that shouldn't take too long!"
"Hey guys, this ever happen to you?" (Show breakaway wand "wilting.")

Man, Taco Bell will never know what hit 'em!

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Disclaimer
This is obviously fiction, because:
A. nobody knows anybody who really acts like this, and
B. the batteries on my bunny button are dead.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Resolutions

It's that time. I could do the standard peace on earth, good will toward all, cure all disease, yada yada, blah, blah, blah, but hey, this is a magic blog. Check out my liberal wimp blog for that other stuff.

So what to resolve? The items below are just suggestions.
If you want, print it, cut on dotted line, fill in the appropriate blank and stick it (on your refrigerator, that is).

-------------------------------------------------------

I, _____________________ hereby resolve to


  • practice my Tenyo tricks at least once before showing them in public
  • read at least one of the books in my library
  • wait at least a week before buying the trick I just saw Blaine do on tv
  • change at least a couple of the words of patter of the trick I just saw Blaine do on tv
  • work on sounding sincere when I say, "Interesting use of that principle," when a fellow magi just fried my brain
  • try to keep name-dropping to a minimum (for example, I would have to have seen Max Maven from a distance at a minimum of two conventions before saying I know him)
  • know at least a sloppy French drop before calling myself a coin worker
  • have at least a letter to the editor published in a minor magic magazine before calling myself a published author
  • cut my spending on magic props from half my income to a third
  • redo my business cards to add mentalism and bizarre magic to my list of specialties which already includes stage shows, parlor shows, close-up, kids shows, adult shows, trade shows, hospitality suites, grand openings, birthday parties, bar mitzvahs, bat mitzvahs, weddings and funerals
  • get bigger business cards
  • upgrade my publicity photo (note to self: make appointment with Glamour Shots; bring bunny and card fans)
  • get rid of cheesy purple velour tux - find classy blue velour
  • find yet another prop like that sponge ding-dong (that thing kills!)
  • write Jim (zazenmagic-blog@yahoo.com) and tell him what a cool blog he has


That's all I can think of at 7:22 a.m. after a Diet Coke hangover. Feel free to add to the list.

Oh, and have a safe, happy and magical 2007.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Performing for magicians

I frequently hear magicians complain they don't like to perform for other magicians. They're worried that the technical aspects won't be up to snuff, or that "everyone has seen it before." They then rush through the trick, skipping the presentation and just showing the mechanics. There are a couple of things wrong with this attitude.

First, if you're worried about your technique for magicians but not for lay people, you're shortchanging your lay audiences. If you're worried about your technique at all you shouldn't be performing the piece, period. Lay audiences notice more than we know. (Note: this doesn't mean you shouldn't show the piece to people with the express purpose of improving it. This just better be prior to it being a 'performance piece.')

Second, in my experience most magical gatherings are composed mostly of magic fans, not really magicians. They are there to see good magic.

Third, by rushing through or eliminating the presentation, you are eliminating the one piece of the construct they're guaranteed never to have seen before: your unique point of view.

When I think back to the magical performances I've really enjoyed, they've all been the ones that were fully fleshed out, from Jeff McBride's mask routine to Bill Malone's "Sam the Bellhop" to local performer John Jolley's cut and restored rope routine.

When you perform for magicians, treat them like a lay audience and give them the best show you possibly can.