Drunks are bad. So are talking parents. And teenagers taking group pictures during your Fraidy Cat Rabbit routine.
Some magicians think they know everything and need no more input from other performers. Worse, they are so set in their ways of doing things that even if they see value in other people’s views they are no longer willing to change.
I follow a different tack. I listen to everybody and harvest nuggets of genius from everyone.
Many magicians in the audience thought we did a Steinmeyer illusion.
That’s partly correct. Only the well-posted Bob Dureza got it right. It was Jarett’s 21-Person Cabinet from Jim Steinmeyer’s the Complete Jarett.
Some parents, though, get lost in the shuffle and opt to hire the cheapest performer. They have this romanticized notion that the cheapest performer is the best choice. The result is sometimes not the way they expect.
Here are tips to create your own funny magic words—the emphasis is on funny.
Say something funny. Duh. Example: one funny magician I saw said, “Let me recite the magic word I learned from the church. Bingo!”
Just make sure you are not performing at a bishops’ convention. I doubt they will find that magic word funny.
Contrary to rumors, I am a human being.
I have emotions to handle. The tear ducts in my eyes shed tears.
I have had bookers asked me to do shows for cancer-stricken children. Performing for sick kids has opened my eyes to an awful truth: I suck at emotion management.
Those daring to present a talking performance usually opt for the easy way. They use a generous amount of clichés in their scripts.
Clichés are expressions that have lost the power to touch the emotion due to years of overuse.
I’ve listed a few below. I hate them because I once made them parts of my show. But one day I had an epiphany. I realized I’ve grown tired of them.
Yesterday I performed magic at a boy’s seventh birthday party. I kept forgetting my script and the flow of my tricks, because the kids were super noisy. They were chattering non-stop. They kept claiming they had seen my tricks before. They shouted the methods of the tricks.
Help me please. Is there a kid-friendly way to say “shut up” while I’m performing?
What does this mean? my magician friends ask.
I don’t know what that means. I was not there, so I didn’t hear the words the children used.
If the children talked in French, I wouldn’t know either. Even though I speak 10 foreign languages perfectly, seven of those languages I don’t understand.
French is one of the seven I don’t understand.
For example, when someone asks me for my birthday, I answer, “March 9.”
If the one questioning is a pain-in-the-ass type and pursues the topic with a follow-up question, “What year?”, he gets a smart aleck answer, “Every year.”