Death is a Party Pooper

Yesterday I was doing a spring festival gig for a car company (don't ask). Lot's of entertainment stuff was booked. Among riding donkeys and live music there was a magician. Me! So I did my usual stuff, coins, cards, finishing with the Cups and Balls. Not big shows, but something quick for all the people strolling about.

So this old man is looking at me doing some coin magic. Then he wonders of. Five minutes later an announcement was heard that a doctor should come quick. Somebody has fallen down, it is serious. Turns out that old man fell over and hit his head on the ground. He was dead when they found him. Getting from the point of the accident to the place where the mike is took about two minutes. And from the place where I was doing my magic to the place the old man died took about one minute. So within that time frame he fell and died.

Every act that was to follow was cancelled. Still the festival went on. Most people were blissfully unaware of what had happened. To them an old man fell and then the ambulance arrived. Nobody knew who he was.

As I was driving back home I was thinking. Pretty much the last thing he saw was a magician doing coin magic. And I suddenly wished I made my magic more meaningful. It could be the last thing somebody sees. And if so, wouldn't it be much better if the act was really, really good?