No Mr. Mysto Magic Set Here
“What got you into magic?” is a question I get asked a lot. A few years ago, a person to whom I told this story said it belonged in my blog.
I was about 9 years old. My dad came home from work and said, “Hey, let me show you something.” Not, “Oh, here’s a neat trick.” He asked me to give him a penny while he rolled back one sleeve of his shirt.
He took the penny in one hand, and rubbed it onto the elbow of his bare arm. Nothing. He rubbed some more, still nothing. Then the penny was gone. He spread the fingers of that one hand and slightly shook his head.
“Where’d it go?” I asked, to which my dad replied calmly, “It’s in my arm.”
I was horrified! My dad just put a penny into his body, through his elbow.
I started crying. Loudly. Sure, he was older than me, sure he was my dad, BUT hadn’t he ever heard of blood poisoning? Hadn’t he learned anything at all! He was a grown up for Pete’s sake!
I ran to my bedroom, screaming and crying, with my dad following. (I don’t know what my mother was doing, but I bet she was right behind my dad, saying to him, “Joe, look what you’ve done!”)
In my bedroom, my dad told me it was a trick. He showed me how it was done, and through the tears I managed a smile to let him know I’d be okay.
That was my first experience with wonder.
(Click here for a tutorial on that amazing piece of a maic)