I'm just catching up on this thread. Is that Ted Kennedy story really true?

I always try very hard to walk the straight and narrow and only tell stories that can be documented with hard, cold facts. Like the time Woody Allen and I were hanging around a public swimming pool waiting for a class of high school girls to CENSORED.

Seriously, the Ted Kennedy drunk in his underwear dancing / schmoozing stuff is FACT, I was there, and it was also witnessed by fellow magicians Bob Sheets, Eddie Goldstein, and JC Wagner.

I was there.
I think that Ted Kennedy was just ahead of his time. Ya know how lots of kids have their pants pulled half way down and their boxer shorts hanging out the butt. Just add a loud Irish accent and a ruddy glazed over face, and you have Ted Kennedy at the Jester.

The Jester was great. Everything was free form, including the bathrooms. We had two, but they weren't labeled. A typical scene would be one of the doors flying open and three guys and two girls falling out in a cloud of smoke, then two girls and an guy would go in and lock the door.

Now, I have to pee.

The famous bathrooms were located through the bar at the far end where you took a right turn down a short hallway just past the end of the bar. And there were no signs for men or women. So when anyone went to the bathroom everyone in the bar could see you.

Since they weren’t marked I might be working at the end of the bar where about five stools were and I’d see someone walk behind the seated customers on the way to the head. They might pause and ask me where the bathrooms were located and I would motion to my right that they were almost there and they would walk down the hall. If they had never been there before they would look at one door see no gender identification, take two steps to look at the next door again no sign. At the bar I would be laughing and tell the people sitting there that, “they’ll be right back,” and sure enough they would pop back just out of the hall and shrug and motion for me to tell them which was which. I always said, “it doesn’t matter just lock the door.”

Well the first bathroom had a sink and a credenza, then the stool and the door locked most of the time. On occasion another innocent customer would pull on the apparently OPEN door and a couple might be caught in flagrante delicto with the “oh my god”, scream and, “oh sorry,” and quickly closing the door.

It was so funny because another time a couple would come out and the guy would be all disheveled, sweaty, both of them their hair was messed up and literally everyone in the bar knew what just happened behind closed doors. The laughter sometimes was through the roof because if Steve or I saw the couple go in, since the door was right there, we would announce, with tongue in cheek and a roll of the eyes, the nature of the event to the whole bar. So you can imagine that you think your getting away with something and then when you exit and you are completely surprised being greeted by 80 or 90 people screaming and applauding your triumph. And there was nowhere to go. You had to walk through the very closely packed crowd to the exit at the far end. Completely outrageous behavior.

Just another day at the office. bob.

The powder rooms, yeah, good thing Bob and Eddie brought that subject up. The Jester managed to come together and be a success in spite of those powder rooms that were the home of nonstop intoxication and sex. Of the three of us (me, Bob, and Eddie) none of it was enjoyed by me or Bob. Bob and I were the responsible ones. It was Bob and I, not Eddie, who had to try and keep the train from careening off the tracks and killing everybody onboard and maiming innocents in Aspen. Eddie was, is, and always has been, an out-of-control maniac when it comes to sex and drugs in public toilets.

Steve,

Tell them about Donny White's bachelor party. There can never be another one more outrageous than this event.

I'll be right back after I pee.

bob.

At the Jester I performed the Bill in Lemon thousands of times and every performance had a spectator hold a large pair of hemostats, or as they were called at the time roach clips. The signed bill vanished at my finger tips. I cut the lemon in half... inside is a small speck of green. Using the roach clips, the helper plucks the green from the meat of the halved lemon. It is the signed bill.

I performed a unique version at an Aspen bachelor party, an event permanently etched into the annals of Jolly jester history. Instead of a lemon, the soon to be married bachelor was given a free choice of any stripper he wanted. The girl sat on, not at, the bar, facing the party.

I tore a bill into pieces, giving the bachelor a corner to hold as a receipt. The other pieces of money were put in an ash tray and burnt to a crisp. Next I sprinkled the ashes over the stripper's lap. She removed her g-string, opened her legs, and spread her vaginal lips... exposing a speck of green. Using the roach clips, the bachelor delicately pinched the bill and pulled it out.

The previously burnt bill was completely restored, except for one corner that was missing. The torn corner in the bachelor's possession matched perfectly... proving that the burnt money ressurected itself from the ashes, and magically traveled to the inside of the freely selected stripper.

I guess the ends of the roach clips were kinda sticky from spending a lot of time stuck in lemons, and, apparently, some of the stripper's DNA stuck to the end of them. The night after the bachelor party, I'm finishing another performance of the Bill in Lemon... I said "...using the clips, reach inside, so everyone can see that bill come out of the fruit..." the guy interrupts: "Why are the end of the clips covered with all these little hairs?" Bob and I doubled over with laughter, and kept on laughing until our sides hurt.

If you wonder what I’m up to these days (www.magicopolis.com) you need to plan a trip to Santa Monica.

Well, now we all have to pee...our pants with laughter.

truly one of the most outrageous stories and memorable nights of my life.

The Jester was truly one of the craziest bars in the world.
I can't believe my good fortune that I was actually there to witness some of the lunacy.


Doc

I've been in this game my entire life and that's the funniest magic story I've ever heard. True or not that's hilarious.

It's true .. no embellishment.. true.

Doc

OK,

Now just to clear it up a little. The next day it was early evening. The first dinner show seating was in and Steve was working for a very small group of very big tippers so he's pulling out all the big guns.

He gave the clips to a woman in the party. She pulled the bill out and said, "There's wire all over this clips"? I hit the floor. I mean it. Me and the other bartender physically fell over.

Steve didn't fall, but he wanted to. The women sees us laughing and not wanting to spoil the party she follows it up with,” There’s a lot of wire." We all fall out again and of course could not reveal why we were laughing so hard. I do think the men in the party did tumble to it but stayed mum. We might have told the guys the story when the women went to the washroom.

The night before was pure bachelor party raunch. The next evening was side splitting, gut busting comedy. I laugh at this story by myself to this very day.

bob.

These Jolly Jester stories are what legends are made of.

The Chicken.

Another one of the funny bits we did at the Tower, Jolly Jester and Brookfarm Inn Of Magic was the hanging chicken. Great visual when you walked in the bar. Lot’s of people took pictures of the chicken.

In the service area on the right end of the bar was a rubber chicken hanging at the end of a rope by his neck. I say “his” because he had a kid’s bike horn stuck up the posterior with the big red bulb hanging out. When a cocktail waitress wanted a drink she had to reach up and HONK the horn to get a bartender over to make up her order. If you walked up and ordered your own drink you had to HONK the horn.

It was just another situational scene to watch the different reactions from patrons. There was the moment they saw it. Laughter, revulsion, discussion, “You get the drinks. No you get the drinks. I’m not squeezing that thing. Well then you’re not getting a drink.”

The servers had to squeeze it or we wouldn’t get their drinks. We had one squeamish waitress that just didn’t like doing it. She would get so embarrassed. The other waitress was more of a broad and would just look at her and squeeze it for her. And sometimes to irritate the shy one she would daintily fondle it just to see her turn red, which the other server always did.

Just more fun than humans should be allowed to have.

One summer we briefly fooled with the Shulien gold fish eating bit. As I remember we didn't do it long because the fish dyed rather quickly. A girl friend brought me a baggie of goldfish from Denver, we just had a little bowl with overfed fish in a smoke filled bar.

The a bowl of goldfish sat on the back bar. Now and then, we apparently grabbed a live one outta the water, popped it in our mouth and chewed it up. In reality, we just pretended to eat the live fish, actually we ate carrots cut to an approximate fish shape.

People started to hear about the goldfish eating and wanted to see it done. A regular customer brought in a younger brother on holiday from college. The young brother was impressed with the fish stunt and I let him in on the carrot secret.

I told him, “In the next hour we’re going to ask for volunteers, raise your hand and I’ll put a carrot in your mouth, you’ll be a hero.” When the time came, I put a real live wiggling goldfish in his mouth. Everyone cried laughing.

I vividly remember the first time I realized magicians who worked at The Jester were kinda big fish in a tiny pond.

As the sun set I was driving up a winding road near Woody Creek. I maneuvered around what I would call… dead man’s curve… and my entire right front wheel flew off. I lost control as the car swerved, finally skidding into the guard rail. The guard rail stopped the car and I from crashing a thousand feet below.

I sat there for a moment stunned. I was okay, the car was not. It was getting dark, it was snowing, and I was stranded… a spare tire doesn’t help when the whole wheel is gone and the front end was squished. Cell phones hadn’t been invented yet, I was on an uninhabited wilderness road, and no help was in sight.

Out of nowhere, I saw an Aspen Police vehicle approaching. In those days the local police drove Saabs and their official uniforms were jean jackets and cowboy hats. They had a hip car and a country cool costume, and I was happy to see help is on the way… but I saw a hassle coming. My vehicle had expired out-of-state license plates and in my wallet was an expired out-of-state driver’s license.

The cops jumped outta the Saab, their first words: “Hey it’s the guy from The Jester.” They asked what my name was, and when I said “Steve Spill” they agreed, and told me about the tricks I did, so that we would all know that that was in fact who I was. They said “Don’t worry buddy, we’ll get you some help…”

Because of the title of this thread I assume The Jolly Jester was what Spill considers his first best job. Bob, what was your first best job? Tell me before you pee.

My adult life started in the Circus baby.

In 1968 after graduation I joined the Navy and then retired after 17 days. I’m allergic to the wool in the blankets and from my neck to my ankles turned in to a giant strawberry. I tried to stay in but received my medical excuse and the Dear Bob letter from my high school sweetheart in short order and went home.

I took a couple of sales jobs and Kenny Benge (author of Three Ball Juggling) called and asked if I knew how to eat fire. I said no. He asked me again. Again I said no. Then he told me to meet him at his garage at 2:00 pm and he would teach me. I got the basic in the mouth, breath out pitch and was proclaimed an official Circus Fire Eater.

Kenny was leaving The John Strong Circus, a one ring touring tent show with a new name. The 1869 Circus, scheduled to open in San Diego in a couple of weeks. Kenny was leaving to go to Chicago and work for the man who bought Mark Wilson’s trade show company, and needed someone to take his place in the Circus.

Wow. The Circus became my new “Army.” John Strong was a great old timer that ran a great little show. I scooped elephant poop, worked and ran the side show, performed a center ring silent act, sold cotton candy, pounded stakes, drove truck and a million other 24 hour circus duties. I never imagined that at eighteen I would be come a working entertainer and on the road. WOW. What an eye opening education for this San Diego greenhorn. When I left the Circus two years later I was a confident and real performer ready to meet the challenges of being a performer in the 70’s. Right. Six months after my induction in the John Strong organization I tried out at the Magic Castle, I was 18 at the time, and never mentioned my age and got to work there for the first of many times. I was in magic heaven.

I never broke the rules or drank at the Magic Castle even though they thought I was 21. I considered it the ultimate privilege and never wanted to abuse it.

At 20 I moved to Chicago to work for Kenny’s new boss, Magical Productions, a year later I would start my job and real career at the Pickle Barrel with Heba Haba Al.

Ta da. bob.

Bob your task of cleaning up after the elephant reminds me of someone who cleaned up after the tigers when I worked on the show Spellbound. One of his favorite sayings was, "It may be tiger **** to you, but it's bread and butter to me." Such was the nature of this man... each time he'd scoop some poop, he'd proclaim, "another shingle on my roof!"

Bob sounds like you were a jack of all trades in the circus. What was your job description at the Chicago trade show comopany?

I was the roadie. I did shopping center and fair promotions with the Keebler Cookie Show. Set up and tear down the trade shows. I got to do the Mark Wilson Robot Girl and Hand Machine exhibits that I’d only heard about until then. Some sales. I sold Johnny Thompson’s Blue Room Illusion to Motorola. I sold Don Alan on a couple of trade shows.

I was the Roadie.

bob.