My First Gig

by Art Nefsky

On the last month of my final year in High School, I started looking for a summer job in Show Business.  I didn't really care what it was as long as I was performing.  It wasn't long before I responded to an ad in the Classifieds.  Someone was looking for a Magician's assistant, and I thought it would be a great way to break into the business.  The audition was at the man's apartment, and I was told to show up at 1:00p.m. on the Saturday. 

I arrived on time and was greeted by a man with dark olive skin and a thick accent.  I was asked to wait in the living room with two other applicants.  One was a tall skinny guy with curly hair and acne; the other, a very good looking girl, (in a sleazy sort of way), wearing a short leather mini-skirt.  All that was in the living room was a television set, a couch, a couple of chairs, and a bed of nails. 

After a few moments, the man who showed us in entered the room with a rather large man, and introduced us to (are you ready for this?), Dr. AbraKadabra, who just arrived from Turkey, and didn't speak a word of English.  His first name was Lutfi, (yes... Dr. Lutfi AbraKadabra), and the man explained that he was the "doctor's" first assistant and interpreter.  They had just arrived from Turkey, had four shows booked for the following week, was planning a tour across Canada, and required some extra assistants for some of his illusions. 

There was no formal audition or interview.  I think the three of us were the only ones that showed up. 
 

They showed us a couple of tricks that anyone can get out of a children's magic book, and then the assistant proceeded to show us how to go into a trance.  He stood there with his hands to his sides, closed his eyes and went rigid.  We were instructed to catch him as he fell back.  One of us lifted him by the neck and shoulders, while the other held him by the feet, and gently placed him on the bed of nails.  I couldn't believe the man was just laying there on these huge spikes, approximately two inches apart, with no shirt on.  This was no trick.  He was actually doing it.  After a couple of minutes, we lifted him off and placed him on the floor. 

Lutfi then looked at me, smiled, and pointed to the bed of nails.  I looked at his assistant and said "Is he nuts?"  The assistant said that everything would be all right, and besides, if anything went wrong, Dr. Abracadabra was actually a real licensed Doctor from Turkey.  "Oh... well, in that case..."  Besides, I wanted to be in show business.  So I lay down on the floor and went rigid.  (I trusted them enough to put me on a bunch of spikes, but I didn't trust them catching me falling backwards from a standing position with my eyes closed.  They picked me up and placed me on the bed. 

I was thinking, "Hey, this isn't so bad... as long as I don't move.  It must be a weight distribution thing or something."  It was a little uncomfortable at first, but I got used to it.  After a minute or so, I started to relax, glanced over to the TV set, and started to watch what was on it. 

So, here I am in a strange man's apartment, on top of a bed of nails, watching a Martin/Lewis movie, saying to myself, "I've done a lot of weird things, but this one is pretty much up there."  Anyway, I'm watching TV and there was a part where Jerry Lewis squirts Dean Martin in the face with a water gun filled with milk.  That's when I discovered new meaning to the phrase, "It only hurts when I laugh."  The bouncing pressure of my laughter went right to my ass.  I had to be taken off pretty quick.  I still wanted the job and they hired me.  They hired all three of us.  I guess they hired anyone that was willing to do it. 

The next few days of rehearsal was fun and exciting.  Lutfi made us take some kind of oath, swearing not to reveal the secrets he was about to tell us.  I learned some of the classic illusions I used to see on television.  In "Metamorphosis", the female assistant would be put inside a sack and we would tie the end of it into a knot.  We then placed her in a trunk and locked it all up.  The magician would then stand on the trunk, hold a sheet suspended by a curtain rod, just under his chin.  He would then count, "One... two..." (duck under the curtain and the girl would pop up in his place saying) "three... four" without skipping a beat.  We would open up the trunk, untie the very same knot in the sack, and Lutfi would come out.  They were very careful not to reveal any secrets that I was not directly involved with.  I knew how he got into the sack, but I didn't know how he got into the trunk.  After a couple of days of snooping around when he wasn't looking, I figured it all out.  (Sorry I can't explain any tricks... I took an oath.) 

One of my jobs was to do the "bed of nails".  Originally Lutfi wanted to stand on me after placing me on the nails, but I said "No (blank) way!"  By the way, my mother was not impressed with this job.  Every night, after rehearsal, she would check my back to see the imprints left from the nails.  I never pierced my skin, but it left marks for the rest of the night. 

There was another 'stunt' I was involved with.  (I call it "stunt", because it sure didn't feel like an illusion.)  How do I describe this...?  Imagine two small hurtles that track runners jump over.  Now... instead of a piece of plywood in the middle, replace it with a strip of (not so thick) sheet metal.  Or better yet, two oversized razor blades fastened to two separate stands.  They would set the stands approximately three feet apart, I would go completely rigid, and they would set me on top of these blades -- with one blade just underneath my shoulder blade for balance, and the other blade above my heel, under my achilles tendon.  I would lie straight across with nothing in between.  Two volunteers from the audience would then pick up a huge hundred pound, flat rock, and place it on my stomach.  The magician would then take a sledge-hammer, and swinging down with all his strength, break the rock.  then this two hundred and sixty pound mass of "Turkish Delight" would stand on me for five to ten seconds, jump off, and take a bow. 

Actually, the rock was the easy part, and when Lutfi stood on me, the easiest weight distribution was, putting the right foot on my stomach and left foot between my hip and knee with equal distance between blades. 

Opening night arrived and I was pretty excited.  I was in show business.  We got a closet of a dressing room to get made up in, and I put my stage make-up on so thick, that I looked like I applied instant suntan lotion, (the kind that turns your skin orange after an hour).  I stood on stage with my legs at an "at ease" position with my arms folded, and I didn't move a muscle until I was needed.  The show itself was lousy, but I didn't care.  I had my first professional job in show business. 

The shows went pretty smoothly until the fourth and last performance of our run.  When it came time to do the "blade sequence", they placed the rock on my stomach.  When Lutfi came down on me with the sledgehammer, the rock wouldn't break.  He swung at it seven or eight times before it finally did break open.  The force of the hammer didn't affect me, but it took all my strength to stay in a rigid position holding a hundred pound rock on my stomach for that long a period of time.  The second the rock was taken off of me, I felt as if I was floating, but then Lutfi immediately stood on me.  But instead of using the proper weight distribution, he stood on me with his left foot directly over one of the blades.  I couldn't show any pain on my face, (After all, I was is show business, and any show of pain would indicate to the audience that I wasn't really in a trance.) 

When they finally took me off the blades, I realized that my left leg was paralyzed.  He had pinched a nerve in my achilles tendon and it took a half an hour after the show before the feeling was finally restored to my leg. 

I quit that night.  (Screw the tour!  after all... I do have my limits!)