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They don’t really know me here. (Friday, February 20)

I mean, the promoters do, obviously: they didn’t pay this much to get me here for no reason. It’s the attendees. I’m standing with my friends, some real ‘names’ in the business and I’m the ‘who is that?’ guy. “He doesn’t look like much …”

I arose this morning and wrote. Looking back, it wasn’t bad. It could certainly use some editing, but that can be fixed if need be, later. You want raw thoughts, right? It’s a diary …

Breakfast was thick bacon, tomatoes and home fries. Eggs of … some description. There was dill. I recognized that, at least. Quite tasty and filling. I hid the tomatoes. Sorry, Mom.

I made may over the venue for what turned out to be a largely uneventful day. I  sat in on a session or two. Stayed near my table in the dealer’s room, chatted with some old friends until time for my show. There was a small argument backstage about whether or not I was good enough to close the show. (This was a showcase of seven close up performers.) The talent ‘handler’ was telling the show coordinator that I had to take the closing spot. He wasn’t convinced and was vehemently arguing that I was a no-name and had to settle for the second to last. A coin was flipped. That’s fine. My ego needed some trimming anyway. I ended up in the closing spot.

So, yeah. I took the stage with the ‘Memories’ act. Ice Cream and coins. I laid out my story and I feel it was received well. Perhaps tomorrow they’ll know me a little better?

The rest of today will be food and sessioning. Magicians helping magicians. Everyone on an equal field, showing their craft; helping and being helped. Brothers and Sisters truly striving to improve the face of this craft. THIS is where real magic and friendship happen.

Until tomorrow, friends.

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