Wednesday, July 13, 2011
On the MTV’s old show, Cribs, the celebrity would tour you around their house, finally arriving at the bedroom where they would say, “This is where the magic happens.” What if there was a whole house that was where the “magic happens?” That intro makes it seem like I’m talking about a sex house. I’m not, I’m talking about a house for actual magic.
What is one of the coolest things known to man? That’s right, magic. What is the next coolest thing known to man? That’s right, castles. What do you get if you combine the two? The Magic Castle.
Such a place exists.
To celebrate our 5 year anniversary (actually is Friday), Michelle and I went.
In an old mansion on a hill overlooking Hollwood Boulevard is a castle dedicated to magic. The Magic Castle is a private club for lover’s of magic. Inside the Victorian mansion is a bunch of show rooms where magicians demonstrate their craft, as well as many bars, and a fine dining restaurant. They have a strict dress code, meaning suit and tie for men, and whatever the equivalent is for women. Plus, it’s a private club, so you have to be invited. Michelle an I got in through a friend of a friend. We arrived looking good. I tossed the keys of my 2001 Honda Accord to the valet and thought about what a treat it was for him to get to drive a car such as mine.
I love old houses, and mansions are even cooler. It’s got all dark wood and is dimly lit. It looks exactly like what you would expect for a mansion dedicated to magic. You walk in through a bookshelf to which you say, “Open sesame.” Seriously. We wandered aimlessly, finally finding a show that was about to start. They guy did card tricks to a room of probably 50. Michelle and I got up on stage and were used in one of his tricks.
Magic tricks are crazy! Illusions I can comprehend a bit, just knowing that it’s all light tricks. Magic up close blows my frickin’ mind. It makes me happy to see and angry that they’re doing it in front of me.
We had dinner, which was super expensive, so I just picked up the menu, looked for the cheapest option and put it down. I had the vegetarian option and a water. There was no magic for our server.
Then, we checked out another show in the main room. The magician’s name was Murray, and we was two parts Branson and one part magic. He was very entertaining. I got up on stage again to help out. He did the put a woman in a box and jam stuff through her body trick. No clue. I have no clue how it was done.
We had one more show to get to, but first we had an appointment with awkwardness.
As I was standing in line, Michelle was in the bathroom. There was a guy in front of me with a group. Suddenly, he said, “What’s your name?” I said, “Jeff.” Then we proceeded to have a super strange conversation that involved a lot of side giggling with the other members in his group.
There was the guy, Austin, a heavier dark haired man in his late 30s. There were three fairly voluptuous women with him, that, frankly, were better looking than you would expect him to be hanging out with. Finally, there was the man in his 60s wearing a fedora.
I got a creepy vibe right away. I told him I was an actor, he said he owned a production company.
Immediately, I thought, “They work in porn.”
The rest of the conversation I was trying to add up clues to back up my theory.
A. He was a guy hanging out with women who didn’t seem like they would normally hang out with him.
B. He headed a production company, but didn’t come across as super successful. I think “production company” is a euphemism for porn.
C. The old guy. Why was a heavy set guy and an old guy hanging out with young good looking ladies. Austin said the old guy was a director. Yep.
D. What was with all the side giggling? They had secrets.
I do not have enough evidence to conclusively back up my claim, but there was either just a lot of magic in the air, or the odor of a porn producer.
We saw one more magic show, that I thought was only so-so, until he concluded with pulling two live chickens out of a straight jacket that he had just been in.
We called it a night, and a memorable anniversary dinner.
In other news, I’m one background check away from being an Apple store employee. As long as they don’t dig thirteen steps due east from the old sycamore tree in my parent’s yard, I should be fine.
I had another audition today. This was another one through a family connection. The guy I know is a casting director for commercials and when I fit one of them he calls me in to audition. Today, I was a man concerned about a drought for a PSA. I drove to Sherman Oaks and parked for the audition. Before I got out of my car I realized I had left my headshot at home and had to drive all the way back. It’s like a 45 minute drive. Dummy.