Two people in the magical world are not with us this week: one a long time maker of mind miracles who died of cancer, and the second, Daryl, a close up magician. That’s the stage name he used. No last name. Daryl, like Cher, or Adele.
This past Friday night at the same time he was to perform at Hollywood’s Magic Castle, he took his life while in the bathroom waiting to go on. My first inclination was to joke that he must have had some serious stage fright. I tend to make bad jokes like that. Way too early.
I think the reason I do that is because my emotions tend to float. Kind of up. And, for anyone who’s known me for a while, that ‘up’ has been like that for a long time. Pretty much, my adult life. When I was a kid, though, life was not like that for me. My family used to call me, ‘moody’.
I think my emotions then didn’t float they way they do now. Instead, they were more like a river. They flowed, but down there somewhere. I’m not sure why the change. It’s not medication. So I guess I’ve been lucky. I’ve never known Daryl’s pain, but I can imagine.
When one of my peers commits suicide like this for me it’s a reminder about life: so short. At times, hard. Painfully so. And other times, beautiful. Not anything earth shattering about that. No news here. Just a friendly reminder from Joey -- after he learned the news about his colleague -- Daryl.