Your life often becomes an impromptu magic show when you’re married to a magician. For a while he initiated #MagicSundays on twitter, and he’d perform magic for people and staff in the shops while I’d be trying on clothes. We can hardly go out for dinner to friends or families without being asked for him to perform and naturally he always carries a deck of cards on him. This guy is 100% dedicated to his craft, and one of his friends (a professional magician nogal) was surprised he doesn’t do this professionally. It’s a pretty glamorous lifestyle (I’m feeling somewhat famous now, excuse me while I gush), but let me let you in on the secret, behind-the-scenes, reality of it all…
1. His hands are always occupied with a deck of cards.
Walking through the mall – nah, he’s not interested in holding your hand. Trying to shop for things for the house/clothes/groceries – you better hope there’s no mirror nearby or you’ll lose him in a heartbeat as he perfects and hones his skills. Sometimes, you just have to accept that the magic is king.
2. Apparently, all your clothes have “fluffballs”.
You know, those fluffballs from when your clothes go through the washing machine five times too many. But it doesn’t matter if my clothes are 2 years old or brand new – if there’s a hint of red, green, yellow or blue he’s likely to make sponge balls appear straight out of my clothing. Even in public. He’s done this to some of the guys working in Woolworths even. I’m not quite sure what they thought. Luckily, I don’t wear much of those colours very often (for this very reason).
3. Magic rolls out into all elements of his life.
Recently Greg has been learning coin magic, which I personally think is pretty awesome. He uses those old R1 coins (they were sadly before my time) that are bigger than the current R5. Some of his routines include making coins go from one hand, into the other and subsequently fall with the loveliest *chinkling* sound into a wine glass. It’s an impressive effect. Except when he chooses the chinkling of a falling coin to be his whatsapp message tone. I could live without that.
4. You have some interesting pets.
We have a ferret called rocky and a small family of bunnies.
5. He finds uses for the most unlikely objects.
The other day I had to buy Greg a set of elastic headbands. Girl ones. He wasn’t put off by the lumo green/yellow/pink colours one bit. They’re now lying all over the lounge. Oh, and lemons of course. And tomatoes. Don’t ask.
6. Most guys watch sport, or even some series.
No, Greg watches hours of magic DVDs. They’re stacked proudly on our bookshelf (or they’re lying on our couch), and there’s always some magic-something open on one of our laptops.
7. I taught him the skill of blogging.
As a digital gal, I told Greg he needs to have an online presence that is constantly fresh and updated with new content (duh). So I taught him about blogging. Now he blogs almost as much as I do, and probably has more followers on his magic blog than I do.
8. I may not know how the tricks are done, but I can recite his routines.
It happens when you see the same tricks over and over being performed to different people. At one point I could recite the “patter” (that’s the fancy magic word for all the word fluff they use to keep you laughing and entertained. A good magician has good patter.) of his entire sponge ball routine (without the magic sponge-ball effects, obviously). There’s the ” ‘Russian’ shuffle, where the cards rush from one hand to the other”, jokes about being stoned, he means, stunned. I’m practically a magician myself, without the talent I guess.
9. Your priorities shift
When Greg’s harddrive crashed about a month ago (2T) we didn’t mourn the loss of the movies, series, university work, photos, memories that were stored on it. No, we mourned the loss of 100GB of magic.
10. You can sometimes take the credit for his extraordinary skills.
We always joke that I’m his trusty assistant, but in reality, I really do nothing to assist hist shows (except for maybe strategically seating myself in the “bad angle” spots so that no-one else does). So when people come up to me, gushing at how incredibly talented Greg is – I smile politely and say thank you, you know, as if I had so much to do with everything. And I can’t quite respond with “yeah, I know, right?”. (Though I secretly wish I could)