I’m not even too sure why, but when the magic bug hit me (like most magicians) it hit HARD. And somewhere in my early teens, I came across what I believe to be the worlds greatest card magician, Ricky Jay. I read EVERYTHING I could find on Ricky. And this was in high school right before everyone had internet. I had to go to the Bellevue Public Library and riffle through old magazines and books, picking up pieces here and there (this is also how I came to discover sleight of hand tips and tricks and secrets on mindreading) and finally striking gold on an article in The New Yorker. This had everything about Ricky there was to know. In the article, Ricky came off as sort of a curmudgeon. I was even more fascinated. The author wrote about effects he saw Ricky perform. Effects that had to be seen to believe. Astounding feats of sleight of hand, misdirection on a godly like level – everything I wanted to do. Try as I might, I could never find in any of the magic books I owned how he did them, and probably, rightfully so. Ricky even wrote a book called Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women. It was all about human oddities – a torso who learned how to paint beautiful pieces of art using his mouth, gentlemen who would enter a giant flaming oven with a piece of raw steak and emerge with the steak cooked perfectly. This led to an obsession with circuses and human oddities and carnivals that I cannot shake. An “underground” magician who, from what I understood, didn’t take to lightly to other magicians. I’m not sure if he’s ever quoted as saying this, but the word “hacks” seems to come to mind. Never in my life, I knew, would I ever have a chance to meet this mysterious man. Until…
Last year, my pal Paulie Benz invited me to go see a movie with our friends Krista and Dante at the Arc Light at the Galleria in Sherman Oaks. Every time we went, we always laughed because this was the mall in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. We had our dinner at P.F. Changs, saw our movie and like clockwork, at the end of the movie, I made a bee line for the restroom. I did my business and walked over to wash my hands. Something caught my eye – 2 sinks down from me, the man himself, Ricky Jay, was washing HIS hands as well. Those hands! Those hands that, when holding a deck of cards, seemed to glow! I freaked. I didn’t know what to do. Do I say something to him? Do I scream his name across the other sink? I didn’t want to embarrass him or myself.
I ran into the lobby and found my group. I remember Krista laughing and saying I looked super pale. All I could muster was Ricky Jay was in the bathroom and I wanted to say hi, but I think he wouldn’t be happy if I did – if that sounds grammatically incorrect, that’s about what it sounded like when I was trying to explain who Ricky Jay was. Paul said he had his I-Phone on him and we should catch up to him and get a picture. I protested. No way. He won’t do it. I looked over at Paul and gave him this look of confusion. What was I going or supposed to do?!?!? Paul looked right at me and said, “You’ll never have this opportunity again. Make it happen.” Following his Jedi like enthusiasm, I walked over and said, “Mr. Jay, I’m a huge fan of yours. Would you mind if I got a quick picture?” He was shocked. He looked bummed. He mumbled something and said, “I don’t know… sure.” All the way home was me yelling, and eventually laughing, at Paul, Krista and Dante because they kept (on purpose) saying his name wrong. “Seth, was it Jimmy Jay?”, “What was his name again? It sounds confusing”. And that was that. I got a picture with a living legend.
Maybe if he knew how happy that made me, he would have smiled, too.
