Renaissance
In an earlier column, I mentioned the Vitruvian Man (the man in the square circle—the da Vinci drawing, not the trick). When I was in the third grade, my mother showed me a book of Renaissance art work, including this piece. I asked my mother who the artist was, and she told me “he was a Renaissance man, a man skilled at both art and science.” As it would happen, the very next week we had “Career Day”... in the third grade. For those who remember, this is the day when the teacher asks you “what do you want to be when you grow up?” Since this was the height of the Mercury Project, most of the boys said “astronaut.” There were also the assorted doctors, lawyers, firemen, etc. Since my real name begins with a “Y,” alphabetically I was the last to be asked. I promptly answered, “I want to be a Renaissance Man!” My teacher gave me a look, which could only be described as “Oh yeah, you little smart ass?”... though her actual words were “Tell us about it.” Which I did.
Several weeks later came Parent’s Night. When my teacher was introduced to my mother, she ratted me out. My mother responded, “That sounds like him. His greatest desire is parity with the universe.” I love my mother.
I have always been driven by my passions—not to live life, but rather to consume it. I never did anything with half a heart. You can pay an awful price for this approach, but the one price you’ll never pay is regret for things left untried.
Once upon a time, I defined a “Renaissance” individual as one with a wide range of accomplishments. This I achieved. But in the rebuilding of my life, I’ve experienced a different form of Renaissance: a rebirth. And the catalyst for this rebirth was the Magic Castle.
As circumstance would have it, the Castle, too, is in the process of rebirth. The “inferno” that nearly took her away from us has, instead, opened the door to great possibilities. It is my hope to return the favor in kind. This is why I am running for the Board of Trustees. I watched as those around me gave their all in rebuilding the physical walls—the material existence. I hope to help rebuild its soul, as I repair my own.
I have been a member for nearly 40 years, and have performed in every single room. I was there when Vernon and Charlie Miller held court nightly. Senator Crandal observed me with a wary eye... as he did everyone. Bill Larsen became a dear friend, and inspiration. This is where I learned my craft. I am a true child of the Magic Castle.
I love good magic. As I mentioned before, I find thoughtless magic painful. It is important to me that the next generation of magicians—stage, close-up, and parlor—have the same opportunities for learning and growth that I had. No one can replace Vernon—and I am not arrogant enough to think I can—but what I can offer is four decades of experience as a professional magician who traveled the world, and did his best to make his magic better.
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