wytchcroft

and so a little of myself - my little self in fact - that is to say shorter and younger.
Yes, as a kidling I was given a Magic Set, the sort of thing you were given when you were liable to use a chemistry set to poison the local vicar or your least favourite teacher. I was not a trusted child. Well, perhaps that was for the best - after all I once painted myself all over with chamomile lotion thinking it would make me invisible and drank foaming bubble bath to try and become Mr Hyde. I was not a trusted child, did I mention?

Ok so the Magic Set, wonky top hat and all, became something of an obsession, along with hiding in cupboards and trying to get back to Mars (see elsewhere). I practised hard and did reasonably well. However I quickly discovered two things - one I had no memory for card tricks and two, I enjoyed being tied up. (koff!)

This led me to abandon the idea of the classic magician and wait patiently until I was old enough to study hypnotism and escapology, which actually I did.

Croydon - it produces strange people. Really it does. Just ask Neil Gaiman, Derren Brown and Kate Moss.
But I loved my wonky top hat (eventually replaced with a real one) and I loved the squeezy balls that flattened under the plastic cups and I loved the idea of sleight of hand - which I can still do from time to time.

Later, when I was on stage with a band (yes, sorry about that) often things would go awry. The bass player would be late, a guitar string would break, a song halted mid-way while we executed the PA operator (and we really did manage a fairly decent headcount - being almost singlehandedly responsible for the improvement of gig sounds across the UK).
Yes, awry. I would have to fall back on something to keep the audience's attention. I used either plan A: Pass out. Plan B: Do stand up. Or Plan C: Do some magic.

Magic was the most fun since it was (back then) somewhat unexpected and you could get away with tricks a five year old could best me at now.

I tended to go for elementary mind-reading and disappearance (not JUST alcohol) routines. I still have somewhere a box filled with stuff I forgot to give back, lipsticks, combs, pens, junk like that.

This progressed to the point of going round places specifically to perform - which was actually a pretty cut-throat trade as I discovered when about to fake some arm-wrestling I realised that there were two other people working the place as well! At least one such occasion ended prematurely with me being solidly cold-cocked by a bloke from Newcastle. I don’t hold it against him.

Interestingly enough, around the same time, I was adopted by some Newcastle fellas as a sort of unofficial mascot, whenever they were likely to queue up somewhere they would let me know and (if I was in the vicinity) I would drop by and entertain said crew, sometimes being invited in by the door-staff (and thus gaining entrance without having to pay, always nice).

Hypnotism which I studied in London has also come in handy - for example I once got on a bus in Scotland and with an appropriately eerie stare I ordered the guy to "Driiive." and he did!

More usefully it is probably the only reason I ever passed a job interview, if nothing else it boosts confidence… and I’m fairly certain that it was successful, since on a large number of occasions people have seemed genuinely bewildered by my sudden appearance at work.

"You do what again, since when exactly?"
I just smile politely and wave a self-depreciating hand muttering "These are not the droids you're looking for, move along please."

Ah balderdash! I hear you say, yet even now you are reading this and feeling my vibrations and hearing an inner voice whispering, "Read on my friend read on - your bum is not numb - your bum is not numb!"

Is it working?

If not please contact our complaints dept here.

Escapology is still a hobby, among the few printable anecdotes I can relate includes the time when I had to do a chain break speed competition with two other people on stage in Woolwich which was slightly amusing because I won by cheating in an elementary fashion -
I just tied the other two contestants together* when people were distracted and gleefully watched them fall off the TramShed stage.

This was a great healing moment for me because as a child I was once pranked by the old ‘shoelaces together’ routine and had been bitter about it for years.

Some of my escapology has been filmed - mostly (coz I’m pretentious) for arty videos used in installations. Have you seen me I wonder?

You have?
Wow!

Wasn't I great?

Wasn't I greeat? W-as-n't I g-re-ate? Wasn't I was great I was great I was great? Hey that's very nice of you to say!
See, hypnotism - never fails.

*that's, you know, a lie, actually.