How I learned Magic
When people learn that I studied and performed magic when I was younger they always ask how I got started. During elementary school we were assigned to do a book review and the only book on the cart, which we were supposed to choose from, that held any interest for me was one on the life of Houdini.
To say I was fascinated by the things that Houdini did is putting it mildly. I loved the idea of picking locks and getting out of things. There also was a Fun and Gift shop in the mall near my house, and they had a magician who came in a few days a week to show and sell simple tricks to kids like me. I bought a couple of them and practiced until I felt pretty confident I could perform them without giving away the secret. After all, as the resident magician kept telling us “A magician never reveals his secret!”.
A few weeks later we went to my step-grandfathers house and I showed him one of the tricks. I kept a couple of them on me at all times in the hopes I could amaze someone. He was suitably impressed and told me that his father was a magician and escape artist during the vaudeville days. He then took a very large framed display out of a closet to show me pictures of his father and in that case were two pairs of very old handcuffs, which he used in his act. In those days getting posters printed to advertise the shows was expensive, so performers would make up these displays and they would hang outside the theater to entice people to come to the show.
His father was named Hugo, and he told me that if I was serious about magic, and if I could learn enough to put on a small show for him, he would give me all of Hugo’s magic gear that he had stored in his garage. What an enticement for a kid!
And that is what I did. I got some more of the better tricks from the store and practiced till I had them perfected. Then I set a day to show my grandfather. The day came and I did the show. He was impressed and we talked about how I got the tricks and learned them. Then true to his word, he took me to a storage door on the side of his garage, unlocked it and open it to present me with a world I could only dream of. Cards, illusions, handcuffs, books, you name it and it was in that storeroom.
Over the next few years I devoured as much as I could understand. Then I learned about the International Brotherhood of Magicians, who had a club chapter right there in my home town. I contacted them and went to a meeting. They explained to me that I was just old enough to join, but I had to put on a 15 minute show for them to prove I was serious. And that is what I did.
Now I wish I could say that the show was a hit and they welcomed me with open arms. To be honest, the show was fair because I was so nervous. I saw several knowing smiles as I performed since it is hard to fool another magician. But they were kind and said that I showed promise, and they let me join the club. Learning from those members was amazing every time I went to a meeting. Over time I got better and I started doing shows here and there for fun, and to make extra money.
There was another young man in the club who was very serious about magic and juggling. He and I actually went to the same high school and were friends. When we graduated he went to the Ringling Brothers Circus School and I went to the local college. Paying for college was a little tough and someone suggested that I walk along the San Antonio Riverwalk and do some of my magic for tourists. I tried it and was hugely surprised at how much I made in tips. I kept it up and paid for my first year of college that way.
I still have magic gear and books, although I don’t perform much anymore. Magic doesn’t have the same appeal for people that it once did. Today most magicians are into what I call shock magic, which I just don’t have the personality to pull off. I do still love the feel of a deck of cards in my hands and I can still do a pretty decent fan with them.
Oh, and that display frame from the vaudeville days? I kept it for a long time and then saw an opportunity to share it with world. The Houdini museum in Niagara Falls was looking for donations and I lent it to them. It was on display there for several years complete with a plaque noting that It was on loan from me. Then one day I got a call telling me the museum had caught fire the night before, and everything was lost. This was the first of two heartbreaking fires in my life.