"Crap! I wish I hadn't seen Ricky on the sidewalk."

"You will be fine for 31 minutes. You will be dead in 32 minutes."

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Hocus Poke Us

There was magic on Saturday night.

I rarely attend events like these, but what kind of unsophisticated hick bows out of a magic show? 

Both Joshua Jay and Jamy Ian Swiss wowed the audience with card tricks and sleight-of-hand.  They were the true standouts, aside from Robert Trivers who I found both smart and hilarious, a little bit of Christopher Lloyd's Doc Brown mixed with a whole lot of Reverend Jim.

Trivers might be the only Harvard-educated PhD (he currently teaches at Rutgers) who uses the word dick in his lectures.  His confession that he prefers the word dick over penis brought the house down.

Our tickets were in the second row of the pit. 

We didn't realize how good they were until we started hunting for our seats (1 & 3).  Entering a crowded row in search of a seat is always a debate.  Do I shove my ass in somebody's face?  My crotch?  In the end, I always alternate.  We got a few seats down the row (we started in the mid 30s) and figured we should just quit and start at the other end. 

As we got to the other end of the row, I noticed a couple of people sitting in what I thought were our seats.  It doesn't matter if you're at a concert or in an airplane, it's always uncomfortable accusing someone of sitting in your seat.  I showed the guy my ticket and asked him what his seat was.  "36" he said.  An usher came over and looked at our tickets.  "Your seats are dead center, folks.  Right in the middle of the row."

By now, two-thirds of the row were in their seats.  Ass-crotch, ass-crotch, ass-crotch all the way to the center.

After the event, we drove downtown to drink beer and play darts.  It was very late when I got home. 

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