Being Alive

This Saturday is special for two reasons:

First, I'm the headlining act at the Chicago Magic Lounge. (Tickets available here.)

And second, when I wake up on October 1st, I will have been alive for 30 years.

30. FREAKING. YEARS.

Age has always terrified me. The thought of getting older and not achieving my dreams keeps me up at night. There's always the faint ticking of my biological clock to keep me focused and working at a frantic pace.

Being alive for 30 years hasn't been easy. I've faced heartache and heartbreak, loss and uncertainty. But I've seen myself slowly grow into the person I've always wanted to be.

I see myself as many things...

I'm an artist. I don't particularly care for magic any more. Fooling people doesn't interest me. But I am fascinated in how I can use mind reading to connect with people and tell a story. Which means...

I'm a writer. I love telling stories, whether through words or onstage soliloquies or video. Everything I do revolves around story. My favorite story is the one where...

I'm a husband. My wife is a wonderful, enchanting woman who is constantly inspiring me to be a better man. She supports me in all I do and believes in me, even when I don't believe in myself. But that doesn't keep me from knowing deep down that...

I'm a dreamer. I have big, lofty goals and I'm not afraid to shout them from the rooftops. My goals haven't changed since I was very young. They've only been refined over time. My biggest dream is the one about how...

I'm more alive than ever.

I take the stage and a crowd silently waits in anticipation. My voice booms loudly over the crowd and people lean in to better understand me. The dream fades out as I share my deepest thoughts with the audience.

Then I wake up.

And I realize that's not a dream any more. It's really happening to me. I'm getting to do what I always wanted and I love every second of it.

With every ounce of my being...I'm alive.

Chaos

I make my living figuring out what other people are thinking. But sometimes I struggle to figure out what I'm thinking myself. It's nothing but chaos in here.

It's a labyrinth of my current to do list, projects I'm working on, and everything in between. Plus I have a super good memory so I have a hard time forgetting things.

Like once I was at an event in LA and saw one of my heroes across the room. And I said to myself "I'll never forgive myself if I don't go say hi".

So I did. 

I walked across the room and said "I just wanted to say hello and thank you for being such an inspiration in my life."

And he turned to me and said "Can't you see I'm busy?" And turned away again.

I'll never forget that. My mind won't let me.

I remember being bullied in first grade because of what I was wearing. I can still hear the shouts and jeers from the other kids on the bus. I wish I could forget it but my mind won't let me.

I was raised in a religious household but became an atheist in college. That was almost ten years ago. And even though I haven't looked at a bible in years I can still remember the books of the bible.

Now there's something I would love to forget.

Having a good memory means arguing with me is the worst. When my wife gets mad at me I hold everything over her head. I remember everything she's ever said and use it to win every single fight. It's unfair, but it's not up to me. If it were, I'd let it go...but I can't do that yet.

Memories are all we have, right? They're what define us. They are the building blocks of every action and decision we make today.

Better be careful crossing the street...remember what happened last time?

Maybe don't eat so many cookies tonight, you always feel terrible the next day.

Be kind to others, that's what dad always said. Like when you were feeling down and wanted to scream at classmates about how mean they were. But dad said to "kill them with kindness." 

(I did, even though I really just wanted to kill them and end there.)

My dad died of cancer in 2006 and all I have of him are memories. He was a father, a coach, and my biggest fan. When he was fighting cancer, it destroyed me. When a family member has cancer, everything you do revolves around that disease.

The night he died I was standing in the hospital room with my family as he took his last breath. Then I walked outside with my brothers to try to calm down. It was a chilly night...around 2 or 3 in the morning.

And I calmed my brothers down and helped them understand the situation. I told them everything was going to be okay.

I didn't know if that was true because I didn't believe it myself. It just felt like the right thing to say. I wasn't sure, though, because I couldn't calm myself down. So how was I supposed to comfort them?

My dad had this wristwatch that was the fixture of my childhood. The watch was an award for being valedictorian of his high school class. I found that out when I was five years old. And I told myself I was going to get my own valedictorian watch, too, so I could be just like my dad.

That watch meant everything to me. So I worked my ass off to be top of my class.

I got my own watch. I was just like my dad. 

The strangest thing happened that night. A few hours after my dad died, so did his watch. The battery just stopped working.

It just stopped and I haven't had the heart to put in a new battery yet. I probably never will.

I don't believe in anything supernatural. I'm not religious, I don't read my horoscope. I can't really read your mind - I'm just an entertainer, trying my best to tell you what you're thinking while trying to figure it out myself.

So I don't think anything divine stopped that watch. I think it...

Just...

Stopped.

But what an amazing thing.

Sometimes when my mind can't rest I try to do the same thing. I try desperately to stop time and live in the moment, between my last memory and the next.

And sometimes, just for a second, it's not so chaotic up here.

Real Magic

It was hot. Super hot.

The building was old so the only air conditioning we had were open windows around the room. It was fine for the guests but I was under the lights.

So I was hot. Super hot.

But I'd forgotten how hot it was. I was working. I was in my element - in the moment - on stage. 

For months I've been working on a piece for the end of my show. The routine has several strong moments throughout but those little moments are only there to build up to a huge climax. And that's where I was now.

Magic only exists in the minds of the audience, so getting a volunteer to react properly is a must. If their reaction is strong then the audience will react strongly, too.

The pieces were in place. During the earlier moments, I had gently conditioned the volunteer on where to stand and how to react. The time was now.

She was thinking of a memory and I gently steered her to a point where I thought I could get the best reaction. I looked her in the eyes and said the magic words - the exact memory she was thinking.

And she lost it. Her eyes welled up and she said "I'm going to cry."

I jotted down one last thing on a pad and showed it to her. And that was it.

With tears rolling down her cheeks she hugged me and thanked me as she left the stage.

It was still the same group of people in the same hot room we'd been in all night. But something was different now. The room had shifted. The applause wasn't because I'd asked for it. It wasn't because I was taking a bow. This applause was different. Everyone was clapping because they knew they'd just witnessed something special.

As people rose to their feet, I thought back to all the writing and rehearsing I'd been doing this year. It had all paid off.

For just a moment, I had been an artist. I had taken a small idea and pushed it to its limits. I had shown a small group of people something they may never see again.

I had shown them real magic.

Chicago Fringe Festival Recap

The Chicago Fringe Festival is over. What an experience!

I performed three shows in four days. My first show was about half-full, but the last two shows had packed houses. I was thrilled to be able to SELL OUT the show, considering I did all of my marketing and promotion myself. It was a huge undertaking but I'm glad I did it.

The festival was fantastic. I watched as many other shows as I could and met dozens of incredible artists from around the world. For once, I felt part of a community in Chicago that was comprised of my favorite people. I was rubbing elbows with writers and actors and magicians and improvisers and theatergoers. I couldn't get enough.

My goal has never been to be a salesman. I dread cold-calling and despise having to constantly sell myself. (I still do it because it's better than waiting tables, but that doesn't mean I can't also abhor it.) The goal has always been ART.

The Chicago Fringe Festival finally gave me an outlet to do a version of the show I've had in mind for a while. It wasn't fully formed or completely there yet, but I was happy with what I did. I'm already writing my new show for next year.

As always, I put together a video of the festival so people who weren't able to attend could get a feel for it. I hope you enjoy it!

Letting Go

The floor creaked under my feet as I walked across the empty room.

Moments before an audience had risen with thunderous applause, but for what reason?

Papers, pencils, rubber bands, and paper clips made their way back into my messenger bag. The satchel was all I needed for my show and my filmmaking hobby. There was space left over for other things but I didn't have anything else with me.

For once, I had all I needed.

"Please don't tell anyone what this says," I told her before leaving the stage.

My finale was meant to leave the audience with a mystery instead of an answer. A private message enjoyed by one person, while everyone else enjoyed her enjoyment.

Instead, she revealed all. Overcome with emotion, she broke down and told the audience what she was feeling. A strong moment that was met with laughter and applause, but not the moment I desired.

I stood backstage fuming.

Why hadn't she listened to me? She was destroying the moment I had worked hard to create. She was ruining the ending. She was erasing the mystery.

But seconds later, I stopped worrying about it. I was offstage now and there wasn't anything I could do. It wasn't up to me.

If she wanted to read my message out loud, then so be it. If she wanted to cry, then go right ahead. In that moment, I realized I could only give her a suggestion but, in the end, it wasn't my choice.

And I stood in the wings, learning to let go.

It's never come easily to me - learning to let go, I mean. But now I understand.

I took one last look at the room and smiled to myself. Something magical had happened in here tonight. Yes, this was a gymnasium by day but tonight I had transformed it into a theater. I had really connected with people. I had been more than just an entertainer. I was becoming an artist.

But did they get what I was trying to say? Did they truly understand the real meaning of the show?

I don't know. It's not up to me. It's out of my control.

I flipped off the lights and whistled softly to myself as I walked to my car. I wasn't even thinking about the show anymore. I had already let it go.