Hearsay Hobbies: Magic

Welcome to this week’s installment of Hearsay Hobbies, my weekly attempt to find a fresh diversion to mundane everyday life. As always, I hope my weekly hobby pursuit inspires you to pick up a shiny new hobby of your own. As Tommy noted in his previous post, we all need hobbies to avoid the deep, dark thoughts swimming in our subconscious.

This week’s hobby: Magic.

My love for J.K. Rowling and the fantasy world she created in the Harry Potter series might lead you to think I’ve already tried my hand in magic. Surprisingly, this is not the case. I cannot even shuffle a deck of cards – much less pick yours out of a messy pile. This should be interesting.

Wikipedia defines magic (illusion) as “a performing art that entertains audiences by staging tricks or creating illusions of seemingly impossible[1] or supernatural[2] feats using natural means. These feats are called magic tricks, effects, or illusions.”


If you do not immediately think of Gob from Arrested Development after reading that definition, we have a problem.

Apparently dedicating yourself to magic can “teach confidence and creativity, as well as the work ethic associated with regular practice and the responsibility that comes with devotion to an art.” Well that sounds really encouraging! No longer will I have to be ashamed that I cannot pull a rabbit out of a hat. I will have the self-confidence that only mastering awesome magic tricks can give me. I will be able to bend people’s minds.

Bending. Wait, that reminds me of something. A couple of months ago, I was cleaning up our house after one of the million parties we’ve had since we moved in last August (side note: if you move into a house as a single guy in your 20s, just get ready to throw a lot of parties) and I found a bunch of bent forks and ripped playing cards. As I slowly picked up more and more mutated silverware, I remembered meeting a guy that “performed magic.”

There's a difference between being a magician and being an asshole.

There’s a difference between being a magician and being an asshole.

Damn it. If performing magic means ruining people’s silverware and perfectly good playing cards, I want no part in it. If the guy was such a magician, maybe he should have apparated to our house the next day to help clean up, and re-bend and re-mold our newly broken forks and cards.

I also don’t remember ordering a magician – especially one that messes up perfectly good household items. It doesn’t take a magician to do that. My roommates and I can get drunk and accomplish the same thing. Hell, we could destroy more if we wanted. Beware Bowflex. The garage can’t keep you safe from drunken illusions.

Damn you, magic!


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