I’m sure many magicians in the Philippines understand how distracting it is being interrupted—rudely, subtly, or nonchalantly—while in the middle of the show.
Magic is difficult to perform. The last thing the performer wants is somebody who—out of the blue, unscripted, uncalled for—enters the scene and makes a commotion that takes the audience’s attention from the performance.
Oh, I can list right now two pages of interruptions—if you allow me to do so without interruptions.
But since I’m less than lucid today, let me just tell you about my pet interruptions.
It usually happens when a waiter decides to distribute ice cream cups to the children while the magic show is in full throttle.
Or a grandmother arrives to the party late. In the middle of a rabbit production, she then seeks out the birthday boy in the audience, gives him a birthday gift in a large box, and smothers him with love in front of everybody.
Or a celebrity arrives (a movie star or a popular singing artist), and everybody gets up to have their pictures taken with him.
When I was still young and a neophyte performer, I used to fold up, crumble and self-destruct when subjected to distractions.
Not anymore. Over the years I have thickened the skin of my face to make elephants jealous. I don’t get rattled anymore, even if a big-shot politician with his entourage of stern looking bodyguards arrives in the party with fanfare, theatrics and pageantry.
What I can’t get over with after all these years is my inner rage. I seethe every time somebody tries to wrestle the limelight from me in the middle of a Hippity Hop Rabbit sequence. When that happens, I secretly gnash my teeth so hard my dentist threatens to pull them out without anesthesia.