Happy Day of the Dead
 For those who celebrate the festival of the Day of the Dead here is a graphic for you.   Jaysons Art - the Hallmark of obscure holiday cards.

This is the Day of the Dead, Nov. 2, 2011 and the mystery into why Houdini set fire to the Magic Castle continues.  So far no official cause of the fire has been determined.  I do not rule out the occult, and the paranormal activity that is continually encouraged and practiced at the Magic Castle as the real cause of the fire. And for me the ghost of Harry Houdini would be the hands on favorite as the perpetrator.  Although he was dead for many years before the property at Franklin in Hollywood became the Magic Castle, Houdini did live near the historic Magic Castle property while in Los Angeles.
So here is my accusation. I think the ghost of Houdini started the fire from beyond the grave for these reasons. 1) The timing of the day Halloween: Houdini's favorite holiday, and date of his death. 2) The numerologological associations with the number 11 surrounding the calendar date. Eleven was Houdini's lucky number and a superstition. 3)Houdini said he would try to communicate wth the living if he could after death. I doubt a stuborn control freak like Houdini would ever stop trying, even after 85 human years. 4) The symbolic implications of burning the Magic Castle on Inferno night.
If Houdini really wanted to communicate with the living world then what better place to do it than at the very clubhouse of conjourors, on their busiest night of the year. And do it in such a way that would make the evening news. The fire at the Magic Castle was a big story covered in somewhat the mystical and grand style of Houdini.
There is no doubt. The last few days research has born out the facts that Houdini has broken through and communicated to us from beyond the grave. The ghost of Houdini set fire to the Magic Castle.

As you were,
Jay

We go now to.... Hugh Bodsillean...

Thank you Jay... Hugh Bodsillean reporting from Hollywood.

One of the busiest nights at the Magic Castle is Halloween, as you might imagine. Over the years they have planned for all kinds of themes and shows to promote the event.  Last nights theme was.. "INFERNO...The Castle will be on fire for Halloween".  The evening was cancelled because, you guessed it, the Magic Castle caught fire, an irony, which I am sure, is not lost on those of the Magical persuasion.  As far as I know this is the first Halloween night the Magic Castle has been closed since it opened in 1963.  

I still maintain that it was the ghost of Harry Houdini who did it in an attempt to communicate from the "other side".  He said he would try to send a message to the living if he could.  There were annual Houdini Seances on Halloween night for many years after his death, but even his wife gave up after ten years. The last Houdini Seance was broadcast live on the radio from the roof of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.  Bess Houdini was there along with 12 other guests including a noted medium of the time. After an uneventful seance, Bess Houdini rose from the circle and said, "Houdini did not come through. My last hope is gone. I do not believe that Houdini can come back to me, or to anyone...The Houdini Shrine has burned for ten years. I now, reverently... turn out the light. It is finished. Good night, Harry!"

Perhaps it took the 85 years since his death to come up with the best way to communicate. After all why would a legendary conjurer known for his spectacular and dangerous stunts be satisfied by ringing bells or rattling tambourines in a darkened seance when he could make headlines setting fire to the Magic Castle on the anniversary of his death? Also, with my basic knowledge of eternity it seems to me that ten years is not even a nano second to a ghost.  Eighty-five seems to be time enough for him to come up with this trick. 

But here is the most convincing evidence of Houdini's involvement in the fire.  You will notice on the left that Houdini underlines his signature atop the number... 11.   Houdini would have been 137 years old last night. If you take those numbers and add them up with numerology you get 11. He died at the age of 52 on Oct. 31.  If you add 52 and 31 you come up with 83 which reduces to 11. Today is 11/01/11 and it was Halloween 2011 last night.  Smoke was noticed by some employees at was 11:11 AM, the fire alarm was sounded at 12:35 PM.  Again using numerology 12:35 adds to 11.  Both of his professional names started with  H which is made from two vertical lines that look like 11. If you add the number of the letters in Houdini's name they come to 12,  take the number of those letters as they appear in the alphabet ( A is one, B is two etc.) and add them up you get the number 69 for Harry and the number 70 for Houdini. Subtract those numbers from each other you are left with 1, and one from twelve is... don't freak out... 11.

So there  you have it... proof of life after death and all thanks to Harry Houdini setting fire to the Magic Castle.  This is Hugh Bodsillean.... back to you Jay.

Thanks Hugh.... interesting and persuasive evidence.

As you were,

Jay

HOUDINI Sets Fire to Magic Castle
Hollywood, CA
On the 85th anniversary of his death Eric Weiss, better known as the magician escape artist Harry Houdini, set fire to the historic Magic Castle in Hollywood. The Magic Castle, a private club for Magicians, was going through some repairs earlier this week in the attic above the Houdini Seance Room. In this courtroom sketch of the incident the ghost of Harry Houdini can clearly be seen in the upper story just after the fire was discovered. The greater alarm fire was reported at 11:11 am. Hollywood firemen were able to contain the fire to a small section of the attic. There was some water damage to the Houdini Seance room.

Houdini promised he would come back and give a sign from the after life if it was possible. For years, seances were held to allow him to communicate on the anniversary of his death which was Halloween evening in 1926.
The custom was discontinued in 1936 by his wife, on he roof of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, just a block from the Magic Castle, ten years after his death.
The ghost of Houdini was reportedly upset by the fact that current Houdini seances at the Magic Castle are conducted as a show and not an actual attempt to communicate. The fact that repairs and upgrades were being done to add several "effects" to the Houdini Seance show was said to enrage the Spector.
The magicians say that they will repair the damage and take another look at their policy to conduct seances at the Magic Castle to contact Harry Houdini. At the same time the event is being seen as proof that Houdini was able to communicate from the grave. It could be his greatest demonstration of a sign after death.
Reporting, in no way live, from the Magic Castle in Hollywood, California, back Jay Johnson's blog.
Thank you Buck Heddleswine... and now back to the end of our blog. Happy Halloween.
As you were,
Jay

Halloween - 

Halloween Tomorrow----

Go tell your Mummy!

As you were,
Jay

Halloween in one Day---

Face it!

As you were,
Jay

Halloween in Two Days--

Bite me!

As you were,

Jay

Teachers

Okay, Lisa and Keith left comments yesterday that made me start thinking about my teachers.   First of all I love teachers.  As far as I am concerned teachers should be paid like rock stars and professional athletes. There is nothing more important than education and teachers are the point at which knowledge plows the new ground of fertile minds.  If this capitalistic society rewarded salary based on actual value then teachers would be at the top of the heap. My Dad was a teacher, and a good one. Had the job paid enough to support his family on that single income he might have retired a teacher.

I remember some great teachers in my life and then there were some that.... well, since there are teachers reading... let's just say... there was a disconnect between us. Nothing could exemplify either side of the spectrum more than my second and third grade teachers.

Mrs. McClure was my second grade teacher. She was a red haired Scottish Lady with mean eyes and a quick temper. Mrs. McClure believed that the way to motivate kids into doing better was to humiliate them when they didn't muster up to her learning curve. It was the Darwinian theory of learning; learn at the same level and speed as the rest of the pack or sacrifice your self esteem. She believed slow learners should not only be "stepped over" but "stepped on" in the process. She was an early believer in "no child left behind" except the stupid ones who couldn't keep up to her pace. 

I lived in fear of wearing the "slow poke" sign pinned to the shirt on my back during recess if I did not keep up;  or having to wear a hat in class called a "thinking cap" if I didn't read well.  To the rest of my class mates the hat was nothing more than a dunce cap. These stellar ideas were some of the more subtle methods she employed. I missed almost 30 days of school that year because of her. It was only second grade but I already hated this entire process called school, and I got so good at faking an illness they should have given me the Tony Award right then and there. As I look back she was the one who turned me from neutral to an absolute hatred for school.

The next year we moved away. It was a different town, and a new start.  In the third grade I had Mrs. Gordon as my teacher. Mrs Gordon was a saint and I am sure that now there is a cathedral somewhere in Texas dedicated to her goodness. She had a child who was 15 years older than me and experienced learning challenges in school. She dubbed his type of learner a "creative child". Billy learned to cope with his disabilities very well, went on to college and became a structural engineer, I think. I suspect he was dyslexic like me although they didn't know what that was back then.  But Mrs. Gordon recognized that my comprehension was similar to her son Billy and treated me accordingly. I do remember that when I was having trouble with something she would tell me what Billy had done in a similar situation.  I don't remember ever actually meeting Billy, but he sort of mentored me by proxy through that year. I missed very few days of school in third grade and only for legitimate sickness.  I actually decided to give fourth grade a shot because of Mrs. Gordon and continued to attempt to cope like her son Billy. It worked out for me.

So here is a shout out to all the great teachers of the world. Thanks...  You inspire us all.  

And a scream out to those teachers that subscribe to the McClure method of leaning.... perhaps a career as prison guard would be more rewarding for you.  Unfortunately, the worst prison guard makes more than the best teacher.

As you were,
Jay

Dyslexics of the World Untie

This is for the 100 out of 17 people, like me, who are dyslexic.  It took me several decades to even learn the correct spelling of that word and that I was actually one of their number.  In fact the word dyslexia wasn't even given to this learning quirk until I was almost out of high school.  

Thanks to Monty Wooley for sending this. I think it should hang on the wall of every grade school class room in the country. Only because my Dad was a educator and my Mom a creative genius did I make it through school not hampered by the "Stupid" label.  

I wasn't good at reading or spelling so they told me that I couldn't write. I wasn't great at math but aced Plane Geometry with no effort.  I could redraw most anything in front of me was good in acting class and I could make a puppet talk. All of this should have pointed any educator to the fact that I my abilities were not so easily quantified.  I was a fish that was being tested on climbing. 

Thanks to Mr. Einstein who also said, "Imagination is more important than knowledge" for putting it all in perspective. 

As you were,

Jay

You gotta laugh... 

There is a notion that humor is what separates us humans from the rest of the animal population.  Non-human animals react to something that seems "off" with either fear or aggression. Usually humans try to laugh about it first before running away or starting a fight.  There are predictable exceptions to this idea when jokes or seemingly funny remarks themselves are taken the wrong way causing the very fear and aggression it should have defused.

The trick for a comic or humorist is to know how far to push that line to get the laugh and avoid the riot.  I don't think anyone is 100%. A comic tends to go for the joke first and deal with the consequences later.  If you have to stop and consider all the ramifications of a joke before you tell it, then your timing is going to suffer to the extent you waited. There is nothing "less" funny than a joke that misses its timing.

That is one of the exhausting things about being in a room full of comics.  It becomes a feeding frenzy to be the first with the funniest remark on whatever happens. No one is giving a second thought to the advisability of making the joke, they just want to be the first.  Being second with the same witty comment is last in the comedy race.  The only exception is if one can top the first remark, taking that level and pushing it further.

It all sounds rather complicated when you think about it, but timing is comedy. It is a fast track and you have to be willing to go for it as fast as you think of it,  knowing that perhaps 85% of the time you will be right, but that 15% error can be disastrous. If the percentage is reversed and 85% of the time is disastrous then you are not a comic and should go into accounting or work for the DMV.

With that in mind, when I visited the jail last week, it was the first time I had ever experienced that process. I really didn't know what to expect when I entered the visiting area of the jail.  It was all fearful and somewhat intimidating just to be there. After we waited in line, filled out our paper work, went through a metal detector and had our ID checked against police records we sat in a "holding" area.  If there is any problem with your ID check you are taken away in handcuffs.  I saw that happen to a few of the visitors who had made it to the holding area. They detain people with outstanding traffic tickets to parol violations, you better be clean when you agree to a check because they don't even have to "take you downtown" to the jail... you are already there.  

It is a long time before you actually get to see the person you came to visit.  They call out three or four names every few minutes in no particular order.  I asked someone who was a regular visitor what was going on.  She said, "Once you have been cleared they have to locate the prisoner you are here to see, then they call you to the window."  Because of where I was I did not burst out laughing, but my fear and intimidation had turned to humor. Outside I just smiled, but inside I was having a laugh fest as I thought, "They have to 'locate' the prisoner?  Isn't this a frickin' Jail?  If they don't know where the prisoners are they're doing it wrong." 

As a tag to this story, I talked to gay couple who are mutual friends about my jailhouse visit. They said they couldn't get up the courage to go and see our buddy but they had tried to send a Halloween card. It had been returned to them that day.  The deputies opened it, censored it and sent it back to the sender with this note.  The card had been rejected because of "Excess glitter".

As you were,

Jay

The Perfect Storm
To everyone who sent positive messages and comments about my Saturday blog, I appreciate it.  It was a strange weekend and very odd to have it all play out so publicly, but then that is where it all began and the only place for it to finish. And it truly is finished. I am grateful to Jeff for accepting my apology out in the open as he did.  I didn't expect that and it was above and beyond the best outcome I could have imagined.
Some have asked about the origin and timing of my  Epiphany. Since I have no modesty left in this situation, a final statement of honesty seems to be the appropriate epilogue. There were three events that came together on Friday in a way that created the perfect storm of clarity for me.
The day began with a visit to the Los Angeles county jail. I was visiting a friend. Of all my friends he is the least likely person I would ever expect to see behind bars. His journey is a long and complicated saga, too long to go into here. However, it was a complete break down in the American system of Justice in my opinion. Some day the case will be reversed on appeal, but until then my friend is doing tough time.
The Los Angeles Mens Correctional Facility is not a place where even visitors find a lot of dignity or compassion. Just before they cut the phone line connection between us, I said, "Keep your chin up, pal." He replied, "Thanks but we have to look at the floor, it's a punishable offense if you make eye contact with a guard."
Since you can't take anything but your ID with you when you enter the jail, I left my cell phone in the car. I was drained from the experience, and glad there was an email waiting on the Blackberry to distract me. It was from a friend who once again brought up my conflict with Jeff. My gut reaction was predictable. His was a bias opinion from a high profile but completely star struck fan.  It momentarily distracted me from the jail house experience but not in a way that made me feel better. In my mind I started composing a rather unflattering response to my misguided friend.
So the contemplation of these two completely different situations, the jail and email, began to merge in my mind on the drive back home.  I thought of my friend, now in jail, who had never struck back at the people who lied in court, never gave up trying to do the right thing, and even now was holding his head high even as he was forced to stare at the floor.  I began to realize the quality of strength my friend expressed was currently an unused asset in my character. This thought was beginning to temper my response to the email sent by the Dunham fanatic.
In the early afternoon a letter arrived in the mail from my friend and mentor, ventriloquist Jimmy Nelson. In his gracious way he was thanking me for the things I said during the celebration of his career last summer. It was as if a light went on in the room. The tone and style of Jimmy's letter cut through the bull shit. I suddenly saw myself as a total contradiction.  I was praising one ventriloquists while attacking another. And at the same time I was remembering my friend, who is in jail because of what someone said about him.
It was the perfect storm.
The timing of these events could be just a random pattern. That Raven on the telephone pole crowing at me the day my Dad died could be just the migratory pattern of a bird. When I had to reschedule AA Flight 11 out of Boston the morning of Sept. 11, 2001 it could be nothing more than a change of plans. Or each one of these events could be abstract object lessons; sort of like sign posts leading to a better destination.
Anybody can miss a sign once in awhile and get lost for a time; or say there are no signs and where ever they end up, claim it is where they intended to be.  Whether you believe in signs or not,  occasionally things happen that you just can't ignore. If these observables cause you to alter your direction and feel better, then it is its own reward.  For me I will always be looking around to make sure, if there is a sign, I don't miss it. It just seems logical.
As you were,
Jay

Trying to set things Right 

This is an open letter to any ventriloquist who has ever lived or ever will; and everyone else I have offended lately:

I have a friend who's aunt died in an old folks home knitting the ski mask she planned on wearing when she assassinated Bob Hope.  No one knew what her beef was with Bob Hope or why she planned to kill him but it consumed every part of her senior years.  Everyone just thought she was crazy.

Just the other day I flashed ahead in time to an old man sitting in an old folks home  carving a puppet he would use to assassinate Jeff Dunham.  I then realized that old guy could be me in a decade or so. I didn't like the picture.

I am a ventriloquist and perhaps for a while I forgot that I am also a human being. I would hate to end a lifetime as the best ventriloquist I could be without also being the best human I could be. 

As a ventriloquist when I make a mistake I try my best to correct it to help make my performance better; now as a human being I have to correct a mistake I made to help make my life better.  

I will cut to the chase.

If you read this blog regularly you will know that in the past I  have written some things that were very hateful about Jeff Dunham. Don't bother looking, they have all been taken down now, but the fact that they were there at all is not something that makes me very proud of myself at this moment.  Each one was childish, presumptuous, mean spirited and unsolicited. At this point I can't imagine why I would have wasted the Ethernet on such pompous crap. I have hypocritically railed against such infantile postings from other blog writers. I needed to turn that observation to my own page. 

I have known Jeff Dunham for a very long time and our careers have even dovetailed in some esoteric way. We went to the same high school and our kids attended the same school in Los Angeles.  We shared Ventriloquist week on the Letterman show, and played the same Comedy Clubs early on. We even sit on the board of Advisors for Vent Haven together. I have an 8x10 black and white glossy of Jeff  accepting my "Vent of the Year" plaque when I was unable to accept it in person years ago. We even live on the same street in the same California suburb. I wouldn't say we were as close as Benny and Burns but I never questioned that we were friends. 

Then several years ago I bummed a ride home on his plane from Louisville to LA after a conVENTion. After a long ride and a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, I thought our relationship had taken a huge step forward. I saw his arena show and finally "got" what he was doing out there. I had been so busy trying to make a Broadway show work that I hadn't noticed what was going on in his career. It was quite amazing. 

I didn't get to enjoy that place very long. Within a week all hell broke loose and we found ourselves on opposite sides of a legal issue. 

It is not important now and most everyone else involved moved on from that disaster, but I did not. In fact, it never went away for me.  It is not a problem that consumed me 24/7 but it never really went away. When something would trigger the feelings I went immediately into a very dark place.  Those feelings came out in my blog several times, and got progressively more odious and personal in the form of attacks on Jeff.  If I could knit, I might have started a ski mask.  

Don't know who I thought I was to call Jeff out on the Internet.  To his credit he never responded in kind, can't say that I took the same high road. I really can't undo it... even though it doesn't exist on this blog anymore... it is still out there somewhere. If nowhere else, it still stinks up my own consciousness. Feels pretty stupid and small for a guy my age to have done... I should have known better than to break my own professional credo. "What would Jimmy Nelson do?"

I would love to blame it on Bipolar disorder, but it is actually a case of asshole-ism. It is my own fault and there is no one responsible for the noxious bile but me.   But like I said,  all I can do is correct it and try to make the act of my life better. Unfortunately to do that I have to own the damage I have done and accept total responsibility. There is no such thing as ignoramus insurance. I probably couldn't get it anyway because of  pre-existing ignorance.

So... no more stupid personal rants about Jeff Dunham or anyone else.  I have reached out to Jeff personally to apologise but doubt he will return my call. Who could blame him? He doesn't owe me a thing.  And what I owe him now is just safe passage through my thoughts and my blog without the insulting gauntlet. 

I was told as a writer you have to be honest.  I've tried my best to do that here. However, I forgot for a couple of years that honesty is not the same as childish name calling. 

Sorry Jeff... you didn't deserve it, from me....especially me.

Over and done,

Jay

Back to Court

The world is a stage and at this point one of the acts is the Conrad Murray trial. The prosecution will probably rest today, Dr. Steve Shaffer is their last witness. Dr. Shaffer is an expert anesthesiologist who has worked with all kinds of drugs in the hospital.  He is not charging a fee for his testimony, as is customary, because he feels like the bad publicity about propofal is dangerous to the care of patients. He is doing this to reassure the public that in the right setting and with the right care giver the drug is very safe.  He mentioned in his testimony that since Michael Jacksons death he has been repeatedly asked by his patients if the was "giving them the drug that killed Michael Jackson.   Dr. Shaffer has testified that Dr. Murray was grossly negligent in giving Michael Jackson propofal. Had he had the proper equipment and training in anesthesia he would have been able to resuscitate Jackson quickly and easily. He has debunked the defense theory that Michael Jackson drank the porpofal causing his own death while the doctor was out of the room for a few minutes. It seems orally ingesting the drug has no effect. Last week the defense announced that they were abandoning that line of reasoning.

I think that the prosecution is proving that Dr. Murray was responsible for Michael Jacksons death but not because of an overdose of porpofal, which is listed as the cause of death.  It seems to me that Dr. Murray was not prepared with the proper monitoring devices nor did he have the knowledge to handle the drug. It seems to me that this is a case of malpractice which led to a death. I suppose that this is technically a case of involuntary manslaughter, but it seems that event the amount of propofal that Jackson had been taking daily was not the actual cause of his death.  It appears to me that he died from not monitoring the patient properly to intervene when a negative side effect showed up.  Basically it seems that Jackson got so relaxed that he stopped breathing.  Dr. Shaffer said that happens almost daily when he administers anesthetics. If you have the right knowledge and equipment is it easily and quickly corrected with no damage to the patient. 

I am so glad that I am not on this jury, if for no other reason than I am able to form opinions and talk about the case before it is presented in total. Most of the fun of a trial are the twists and turns it takes and how opinions change from the testimony.

The defense case will be short and this will probably go to the jury in a week or so.  I doubt that Dr. Murray will actually go to jail because of the California over crowded prison system.  He will, I am most certain have his license taken and will probably never practice medicine again.  That is probably a good thing since he did not seem very capable in this situation.

As you were,

Jay 

Night and Death

I have always been interested in how we humans process time. Although we think of time as a constant, it is not. Einstein believed that time slows with distance and speed. Philosophers tell us that there is no such thing as time because it is so subjective. Echart Tolle would say that now is the only reality we have; the past is just a story and the future is just a fairy tale. 

We can measure time with all kinds of clock devices. Computers can generate smaller and smaller units of time digitally; but even the smallest unit of time is only a measurement of what was. Mankind can not measure the occurance nor duration of now. Now does not exist long enough to register in any tangible way. It exists but it can't be measured. 

Humans have a more visceral way to measure time. We use mental references as milestones to navigate our past memories of time.

I remember my folks would divide their lives into chapters of events that happened before or after certain vivid memories.  Things were expressed in terms of, before or after the great depression; other things happened after the war.   Every parent has a memory marker with the birth of their kids. 

I still calculate past events by placing them in terms of what theme park I worked which summer.

Everyone has their own way of determining when something happened in time, and it is all unique and personal. Some how we store significant moments of now in our consciousness and fit the rest of our lives around these moments that can't be measured. 

This brings me to now, and I just missed it because it is already another now, or is it the same now in a different time. 

The reason I clutter my mind with the complexities of contemplating the consciousness of now is simple self-distraction from thinking about Night and Death. The phrase stuck in my head and I want to write about it but I am finding reasons to write around it. 

This is my first night off since my Dad passed away. I had a night or two free in Rochester over the last month and a half, but it was not a night off. That was just a night I was not working while I was still in Rochester.

Unless you are in your house with your own stuff as the sun sets... it isn't a night off. This is real excitement for me, to be here and watch the shadows start to consume the back yard. Although one of many such nights I have spent at this house, this time it is different. It is my first night off after one of those time setting moments.  All the rest of my nights from here on out will be without Dad's planetary presence. 

I am already loosing count of the number of shows I 've done since the night he died. It is more than I want to think about on a night off.  This evening feels too unique not to deal with. I avoid reality by casting this connection of night and death into a movie script. The story of an elegant classic night having nothing to do with death. Then an orchestra begins to play in the background as Fred Astaire sings.

"Night and Death, you are the one, only you beneath the moon or under the sun..." not strictly Cole Porter.

So, here we are, right back where we began, contemplating time and the complexities it brings. Still dealing with death, and a night off. Death and Night. Night and Death  I guess I hope that in death whatever consciousness we have continues on after we leave this protein shell of a body. We might understand the timeless of now more abstractly without these physical restraints. Perhaps conscious memories remain, but not as a measurement of time. They are just to be enjoyed in an eternal state of now. 

As you were,  As we are,
As it is,
Jay

Redd Foxx

I find that more and more of the things I think are common knowledge are lost to the generation that now dominates the social networks.  This may be true of the Harlem comedian turned television actor Redd Foxx. 

He was a very raunchy comedian who was known for his 50's "party records". That was the name given to comedy record albums with language and material unsuitable for broadcast. By todays standards they are pretty tame.  However, he continued to push the envelope and kept pandering to looser mores and retained his XX rated act keeping up with the newest dirty material till his death.

In 1975 he was the star of a hit television show named "Sanford and Son". This let him charge big dollars for the dirtier material in clubs and Vegas. He was also heavy into drugs at the time and was somewhat of a loose cannon on board the network show. He was raunchy and unpredictable.

In his Vegas act the band would play him on and off with the theme from his show Sanford and Son, click on that link if you don't know it. It is a catchy tune.

One night in Vegas there was a very small crowd for a late show.  The band played the theme song, Redd Foxx walked to the microphone, looked at the crowd and said, "I'm not doin' my mother fucking show for only this many fuckin' people," and walked off.  The band immediately played the same song for his exit. 

I told John Ivy my PSM the story one night and from then on when we had an audience that was small one of us would scat the Sanford theme to the other and share a laugh.  It was all we had to do to communicate that it was going to be a small house. 

Cut to the last night of the run at the Magic Castle. Our show was so successful that we did a third show for the Sunday night crowd, which is rare unless there is enough people to justify it. It was a compliment that we were that popular but this show was the lightest of the run. Back stage in the green room we performers were trying to get up the energy to tackle what would be a more challenging show.  

Out of habit I started humming the Sanford and Son theme. John was not around and I suspected someone to ask me why I was humming that song. At that time I would get to tell the Redd Foxx Vegas walk off story again. Instead, magician Jack Goldfinger started to laugh out loud. He said, "Yes... exactly. Perfect." He not only knew the reference and the story, he was the opening act for Redd Foxx the night he walked off. He was actually there that night. 

To be honest I was never sure the story was true.  It is a great story and I love to tell it. Jack was able to fill me in on some more graphic details including the fact that he was even more insulting to the small audience than the way I tell it. 

John Ivy was the first person I wrote to with that bit of "Kevin Bacon connecting". You have to love this business cause you never know how careers overlap and stories you have always heard about can come to you first hand. If you are looking for Magic, you find all kinds on and off stage at the Magic Castle.

As you were,

Jay

End of a Great Magic Castle Week
It was great fun. The mind reading act using a ventriloquist as the secret fooled most of the people. We had to expose the gag at the end just so they would understand they were "HAD". Mike and Tina are great and it was a very special show.

As you were,
Jay

The Magic Castle

I am having a great time at the Magic Castle. Two of my heros were in the audience last night. Mark Wilson, who produced and starred in "The Magic Land of Alacazam" on television when I was a kid, ; and Bill Link, who created an wrote such great television shows as, Columbo, Burkes Law, and countless others. Both are grand gentlemen and great talents in two different disciplines.  I have a peripheral love of magic and writing, and admire them both for their talents. I am proud to be their friend.

I don't work at the Castle very often, and should visit more when I am not performing. However, I do have some great memories of great times there. Some that stand out: the memorial service for Di Vernan, and the pre-death wake of Billy McColmb to name only a couple.  And one more that may shock some of my more critical detractors. (I am talking to you Anonymous "with disappointment... 7:11AM")

I am not sure of the date, but I know it would have to be the late 70's or very early 80's. Jeff Dunham was performing at the Palace of Mystery.  Jeff Dunham hadn't moved to Los Angeles yet,  he was unmarried, and one of the few vents to perform the Castle. To get the Magic Castle gig at all was a testimony to his ability.   The Castle was at the the time a place to be seen by LA shakers and movers.  Jeff was making all the right moves and getting people there to see his act.  

At the time I was sort of an itinerate mentor to Jeff Dunham. We grew up in the same town and went to the same high school, and shared some of the same gigs locally, at different times.  We discussed the art form in detail over the years.  I remember we both sat in my dressing room at the Casa Manana Theatre in Ft. Worth, Texas for my entire break.  I had to rush to get on stage for the second show. The differences that we had toward the art form always made for an interesting discussion.  

So, I came to the Palace of Mystery just to see Jeff Dunham perform.  I had not seen his act in a long time.  He was using a McElroy figure back then.  It was a good act.  I remember distinctly that I had never seen anyone use the McElroy upper and lower lip movement with such dexterity. There was another level to the mouth animation that was and still is quite unique. He didn't use the upper lip just as a gesture or expression, he actually used the movement to accent the proper syllables. I suspect this is how the McElroy's intended it to be used.

After the show I went backstage.  It was my turn to spend the break between shows in his dressing room.  After a while Jeff wanted to show me something that he had been working on.  On the table was a "rocks size" bar glass filled with water. He grabbed his figure and began a conversation and while continuing the conversation drank the glass of water.  I had never really seen that done before and have not since. Usually it is done with a trick glass or gaffed props, but until that moment I didn't know that it was really possible to do.  As I suspected Jeff Dunham had found the only solution I thought was possible to actually accomplish that trick. It was a matter of timing glottal strokes and swallowing within the context of specifically chosen words. I understood the mechanics but I'm not sure I could do it as effectively. It was really quite impressive. I never saw him do it again and I don't know if it ever made it into his act, but it should have. 

I doubt it would have the same effect done today in one of his stadium shows, even with the Imag. And it could never be as impressive as it was to me three feet away in the Magic Castle dressing room.

I am impressed with the brotherhood of magicians apparent at the Magic Castle.  They meet and share secrets and support one another.  They say if you get two magicians together you have a convention.  I have heard it said that if you get two vents together you have a fight. Perhaps I can be part of the solution and not the problem.  Perhaps vents should talk together in dressings rooms and not through lawyers and managers. Perhaps...

As  you were,

Jay 

Fooling them at the CASTLE

It has been a very long time since I have performed at the Magic Castle although I have been a member for a long time and go fairly often. I am having a blast with Mike Caveney and Tina Lenert, members of the infamous Left Handed League.

We decided to do a routine together that we thought would be a gag and it turns out it is fooling magicians. Often for only a few moments and sometimes for a much longer.  I can't, of course, reveal  the nature of the trick since it might tip the gaff by talking about it. All I can say is that it involves mind reading or sightless vision. And not to say that the idea we have come up with is so ingenious that the master manipulators can't see it. I think that most of them are looking in the wrong direction. But ultimately that is what stage magic is... miss direction. But what fun. A moment on stage we thought would be a gag has turned into the talk of the Castle for this week. It has become a must see moment.

In reality we were just trying to add a little more magic into the show and not have it look too much like a variety show.

It is frustrating to have a great story like, "Fooling them at the Magic Castle", and not be able to talk about it. Bummer, I usually find that I don't edit myself as much as I should in this blog, but this time it really would go counter to the magicians code of secrets. And I have probably said too much already. Don't know why I brought it up if I can't talk about it. More Later,

As you were,

Jay

Clarification

I meant to say that the drawing I posted yesterday called "Dr. M" was my statement on the Conrad Murray manslaughter trial of Michael Jackson. As you know I am following that trial regularly. This is what I think of the testimony up till now. It works for me...
At the airport early morning, tight connection in Chicago. Sorry to leave Rochester but glad to be heading home.
As you were,
Jay

The Week End

My last night in Rochester. Home tomorrow. Blog next week...until then my
Drawing entitled "Dr. M"
As you were,
Jay