This is a spin-off of a thread I started in Tricky Business about how we marketed ourselves when we first started out. It’s a fun story with a punch line at the end.

Back when I was in high school in San Francisco, my goal was to become a full-time professional magician, as in go to Vegas and then go touring, and I was doing everything I could think of to make it happen. My parents, of course, being parents, were trying to talk sense into me, as in “you can’t make a living doing magic.” This was a recurring theme in our home for a few years.

The summer right after I graduated, in 1970, three things happened. One, I was the secretary of my local IBM ring in San Francisco. Two, I was putting together a cards-and-doves act inspired by (who else but?) Channing Pollock. Three, a nearby shopping center, Serramonte Center in Daly city, was planning a second-birthday celebration around a theme of “The Magic World of Values.” One day the promotions director at the center called a local magic shop to ask about magicians, and the owner referred him to me as the secretary of the ring.

So the director called me with the idea of having several of our amateur members perform at the celebration, his idea being that it would help them on their way to becoming professionals -- which of course meant performing for free. After taking a deep breath (or two, or three), I patiently explained that our hobbyist members had no interest in becoming professionals (which was accurate), and that the performances would be a reflection on the shopping center. After a bit of back-and-forth, I convinced him that his best bet would be to hire professionals.

Fast-forward a month or two, and the center contacted me again. The promotions director had passed away and a new person was in his place, a very nice youngish lady. I went to meet with her, and the first thing she said to me was, “I knew you were young, but I didn’t expect you to be that young.” But we got along fine, and she hired me to produce the magic part of the event. At the time, I had no idea what producing meant, but I told her I would hire the best acts in the Bay Area.

We agreed on four shows each of two days, Saturday and Sunday, spaced out about an hour apart to allow for setup and strike. I contacted three guys, one of whom had been a touring pro in Cuba and South America for like thirty years, another one who had worked all over the world, and the third who was very active part-time all over the Bay Area. They, and me, a kid just out of high school with a new cards-and-doves act, would make up the four shows. I guess I had more nerve then than I do now. A friend, a very talented pianist and organist, offered to play live for me, so that was a relief.

I negotiated the contracts and fees and sent the center a sketch of the stage I wanted, three feet high and with a backstage area for setup. They built it for me, and it worked fine. All this time I was winging it.

So we did the event, and afterwards the director told me that I had promised her I would get the best acts around, and that I had delivered. She was very pleased with it all.

Here comes the punchline... my fee for the event, including producing and performing and a couple other things, was $400, a nice sum in 1970 especially for a kid just out of high school. I went to the bank to cash my check and asked for it all in twenties.

When I got home, I called my parents into my room and reminded them of all the times they had said there was no money in magic. Then I took that stack of twenties and threw it up in the air and we watched as a shower of twenty-dollar bills floated down. It was awesome. We had a good laugh about it, but they never told me there was no money in magic again.

Nice story.

I too liked Channing Pollock and put together a small dove act.

But my main hero back then was Doug Henning.

Tom

I loved Doug. I saw "The Magic Show," twice. Own the (sadly) disappointing DVD release, and also saw "Merlin."

But! MY magician was and always will be Mark Wilson!

Love that! Are you still performing George?