Ellen

For those of you who remember Ellen, the elephant at the Little Rock Zoo, here is a true story when Jonathan was only 5 or 6. Patty and I were fortunate enough to see her just 2 weeks before she past away.

Ellen

Jumping the fence, braving the icy wind and certain expulsion, we race to see Ellen. The three of us hand in hand laughing, feeling naughty and excited at this chance opportunity. She meets us at the edge of her confinement. Trunk thrust forward longing for a familiar touch. Not finding one of her own she excepts touches from us. We stand and caress her, attempting to comfort her with words of love and how "we would make her house more natural, with earthen floor and absent walls - oooo if only we could". Her skin is alien to my fingers yet beautiful in their uniqueness. She stands close to the bars now and we touch her massive legs and great body and tell her how much we wish we could take the sores around her feet from her. She takes her trunk and touches the young one on the head. His blond hair is gently tossed by her sensitive nose, and the young one smiles and whispers - "I love you Ellen". We stand in her shadow and give praise for her birth. We have to tear ourselves away but the fear of being seen in a restricted area moves our feet, though not so fast. We walk backwards, talking to her, letting her know that we love her - will not forget her. Her eyes follow us till we are back on the pavement, were we are suppose to be. Ellen slowly turns around as we head down the path and as we turn the corner her eyes disappear.

We take a few steps and then back up to look at her one last time. Mary had also backed up putting her rear on the rusty bars. She scratches her butt then raises her trunk with a loud elephant trumpet sound. We turn and run down the path, laughing and loving.

At Jim's

Walking in the front door I'm accosted by the proprietor. A middle aged, slightly portly, man with a grin that stretches across his square face. With a laugh and a twinkle in his eye he says, "what are you doing here, we don't want anything from you". I smile in spite of myself. With a warm handshake Jim asks about me, my family and... "the magic".

Jim's place, as we call it in my household, is the local magic store and hang out of magicians, clowns, and other would be entertainers, especially those of us who have a desire to entertain by deception. His place (8912 Stagecoach Rd Little Rock, AR, (501) 455-6242) is a menagerie of gags, gaffs, puppets, posters, pictures, books, magazines, DVDs, videos, tables, boxes and over 10,000 magic tricks. All of this arranged, (mostly), and catalogued in a 3 ring binder, put into glass display cases, twirling wire racks, shelves and peg boards. Mr. Magic is a place of warmth and the love he has for magic is transferred to everyone who walks through the door.

On any given Saturday morning you are apt to find a collection of full time professionals, part time professionsal, amatures in various stages of skill and knowledge, sages of magical history and all of them ready to share their knowedge and expertise with the magician or the public. You will also find Joe public who might be interested in this art or looking for a present or a gag to play on the unsuspected.

If you have ever had an interest in the art of illusion, do yourself a favor, visit Mr. Magic or if you are bored by the mundane, the common and ordinary, spend a Saturday morning at the magic shop. You meet characters at Jim's.

A Million Miles In A Thousand Years

"Maybe 2ft in some places". That's what my good friend Stephen says as he meets me and Nathan on the trail of his sugar bush. Nathan goes to school in Fredericton and picked me up Sat. morning for my first show in Jacksonville. There I met my old friend Rene' and performed for a group of kids that were attending a day camp sponsored by Shiktihawk Bible Camp. (SBC) It was after this show that Nathan and I met Stephen on the trail. "Here are some snow shoes, you might need them". I said thanks but I think I'll manage. I traveled 4 or 5 steps and immediately buried my entire right leg. "Yeah, uh ok, I think I'll wear those snow shoes". It was beautiful among the trees, the snow lying all around. I looked a little like a vagabond with my borrowed coat, paints and boots, all way too big for me, but the beauty of God's world, the sight of friends - Johnny Mac was feeding the evaporator as fast as he could - the smell of cooking sap the taste so sweet and lovely vanished all my sensibilities and self-centeredness. I was at peace and God's sanctuary was all around.That evening was treated to bowling with good friends Ben Kent, his sister Charity, Marlene Craig, Nathan Salmon, and of course Megan Mclean.After this day of solemnity it got busy. 2 shows on the next day, Sunday, and it was busy all week.On the last day I found time to visit 3 more sugar bushes, (maple farms).

Friday was my last day in the area so my good friend Dean Stevenson, who owns a large farm, Stephen and Becky Page and kids and I went to eat breakfast at the Kenneth's sugar bush. This farm is owned by Nathan's family. You remember him, my driver for all of Saturday. I thought it was going to be a nice 15 - 20 minute ride, nope. It was a good 30 minute trek into the guts of New Brunswick where I got to see real snow fall. The breakfast was great, New Brunswick style.

What a trip. I have a vision to be back in NB the summer of 2012 or soon there after. This time I'm driving with the big show.

A Million Miles In A Thousand Years

It was a blinding snow storm.  At least it looked blinding to me as blackness was all I saw through the window of the very small prop job that bounced me from Ottawa to Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada.  But as we descended below the clouds, about 200 ft or so, I could see the ground below and the snow.  Snow falling like, well, like it was a blinding snow storm.  The plan started to pitch, bounce and yaw, I could see that the nose of the airplane was not pointed in the same direction as I felt the plan was traveling which confirmed the feeling in my stomach that we were flying sideways.  All of this concerned me to the point that I thought a crash was imminent, so I assumed the crash position, you know the head down, arms around your knees.  I went down quickly and noticed as I did that the man seated next to me did not appear to move.  I glanced up at him from my position and sure enough he had not moved.  I sat up and said to him that it was going to be a rough landing.  He grunted and tried to sit further away from me, which was difficult because the seats were so small and our seat belts were pulled tight.  He tried anyway as was evident by his exaggerated leaning into the isle.  The landing was in fact the smoothest landing I have ever felt.  In all honesty I did not even feel the wheels touch the runway.  But this could have also been do to the 12" of snow that had fallen since 1 o'clock that afternoon.  Yep, 12" and more in some places.

What a week in New Brunswick, Canada.  I will be blogging about this for a time, so if this bores you too terribly just look at the title.  I will be using the same title in each blog about Canada.

It was 15 shows in 7 days.  I was scheduled for 5 shows on Thursday of last week.  It was great, but it has been a long time since I did 5 shows in the same day.  3 were at Woodstock middle school, and then 2 at Cantebury, about 30 minutes outside of Woodstock.  I would do it again with out thinking, actually, you have to do something like that without thinking because if you thought about it, you wouldn't do it.

To all my friends in the maritime, I love you and thank you for allowing me the opportunity to come to your beautiful province and grow.

Warm As Toast

My first magical moment happened when I was four years old.  It was a Kansas winter.  A winter of snow suits, mittens, and hot chocolate by the fire.  My older brother, Gene, was on his way out the door to another adventure.   Me and my brother David were not about to miss out so we dashed out the door after him, perhaps not quite as bundled as we should have been.  I remember it was cold.  Really, really cold.  Out the back door, down the hill and there we were, gazing at tree tops, eye level as they rose out of the revine.  The trees, growing straight up from the bottom and the edges reminded me of the hair that grew out of old man Smith's ears.  That morning me and my older brothers, and not for the first time, ventured to the depths of that ravine.  We headed north, walking along the bank and sometimes sliding along the frozen water.  After a time Gene found his spot.  We stopped and with trowel in hand Gene stuck his arm straight out and started to dig right into the bank. I remember the bank was tall, way above my oldest brother's head.  My brother David and I tried to keep warm but after just a little while, the bone chill set in.  

We started to complain.  And then perhaps complained lot.  I remember Gene suddenly stopped what he was doing, turned to us and said - "I can tell you how to be warm if you want."  My brother and I, shaking terribly, said "yes, tell us."  Gene bent over at the waist so his face was level with ours and said with a grin - "it's a magic word, but it will not work unless you believe."  He stood up and looked at us.  "What is it", we pleaded.  Gene again bent and said - "The magic word is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.  If you say this word over and over, and if you believe, it will make you warmer."  I was eager to believe anything my older brother said.  So I started in. I bent over slightly, cupping my hands to my mouth, blowing hot air into them as I repeated over and over, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious - with in seconds, I was getting warmer.  I straightened up, started moving around, and felt the warmth of this magic word spread through my body and I felt -warm as toast.

2011

It is difficult for me to believe that after almost 25 years I am still performing magic as a career.  I, of course, owe this in a very large part to my wonderful wife who has given me moral and emotional support this entire time, not to mention a lot of financial support.  She never once in the times of monetary drought asked me to "get a job", or question my passion in magic as a waste of time.  So it is to her that I owe so much gratitude for her enduring patience, support and love of me and my chosen profession.

The 2011 year has started with a bang and a lot of work a head for me.  I am finishing up an illusion I call Harry's post.  It is an adaptation of an idea by Alan Wakeling.  The story is of Houdini's challenge to a Ms. Rochelle, a spiritualist who confounded Harry.  He told her if she could perform her seance while being shackled to a device of his making, he would declare her "authentic".  So it is part seance and part switch.  There will be an old lady on stage, "Mom", during the seance helping my assistant Shari.  At the end of the routine and when the curtain that surrounds the post is dropped for the last time, I will have vanished.  Of course you know what's next.  Yes, "Mom" takes off her outfit and it is me.  We have some fun ideas for the "seance" portion and I believe this will be exciting to perform.

Harry's post is  for my up coming show for Resort's and Bally's casino in Tunica, MS in March.  I will also make a CEO vanish during a convention in LR this February.  Sean Westbrook, "Stonehenge" and I collaborated on the method over many hours.

Finally, I am still doing a large number of shows for School Partners.  A fundraising corporation out of LR.  I travel all over the state for them and make frequent trips to OK, MO, TN, and MS.

Thanks to all of you who read this blog and to the one, my old friend Clayton, who has subscribed to it.

Randall

The Ref

Anthony (Tony) Tadamy is a graduate of Jacksonville High School 1977.  Same as me.  We actually played football at the same time for opposing teams - in the fifth and sixth grades.  Tony has been nominated by footballscoops.com for linebacker coach of the year.  Tony is the linebacker coach for the TCU Horned Frogs.  It just so happens I have a story involving Tony, football and a ref and I emailed him the story recently.  The story follows.

Tony,

I Just voted for you.  I bet you don't remember me, but one of my great stories is about playing football against you in the sixth grade.  I was fortunate enough to play for the Blue Angles.  We won the championship both years I played.  I had nothing to do with it of course, I was just lucky to be on the team.  They called me rabbit.  Well, on the last play of the last game of the regular season before the championship game, coach put me in at linebacker.  As the running back on the opposing team you got the pitch to my side.  I remember standing firm and was determined to try and tackle you.  You were sooooo much bigger than me.  At the tallest in my life I have only been 5ft 6inches, now I'm 5ft 5.5inches.  In the 6th grade, I may not have been 4ft.  Anyway, you were steaming my way and I could tell you were going to steam roll right over me.  But as luck would have it one of your team mates came up from behind hit my legs and knocked me on my back.  I jumped up and looked at the official waiting for the clipping flag.  The ref looked at me and said, "that block just saved your life".  HAR!  I remember this like it happened today.  As I have grown older I realize just how true it was that I was saved by an injustice - and the ref knew it.

Good Luck Tony I hope you win!