The current challenge word on sugarfrostedgoodness.com is “mischief”.
In Northeast Philadelphia where I grew up, as in most places thoughout the United States, the night before Hallowe’en was recognized as “Mischief Night”. In the 1960s, the time in which I grew up, the so-called mischief was usually of the “prank” variety and, for the most part, harmless. At sundown on October 30, some neighborhood kids would mark up car windows with a bar of soap. They would toss an egg or two at a random house. They may unload a battery of toilet paper on a neighbor’s tree, entwining its autumn-bare branches in yards of Charmin.
One year, my brother sat in the darkness of our yard, poised with the garden hose in his hand, waiting patiently and silently for those young vandals. A group of kids approached my dad’s Dodge Dart and my brother let loose his deluge. The kids scattered. I don’t remember our house being a victim for years after.
While innocuous hijinks were the norm in my neighborhood, across the Delaware River in Camden, New Jersey, it was a different story. Beginning in the late 60s, things in Camden started to deteriorate. The Camden Fire Department started getting numerous false alarms and calls for trash fires. The seventies ushered in a period of significant civil unrest in Camden. The situation got dangerous for firefighters; people started throwing rocks and bottles at firefighters and their apparatus. This period of dangerous, at times riotous behavior spilled over into Mischief Night, which evolved into a much more destructive annual event. Every October 30th, hoodlums would do their very best to burn the city of Camden to the ground. Over 130 arsons were committed in Camden on the night of October 30, 1991. The next year, Camden started emptying the streets of potential troublemakers, busing thousands of teenagers to Halloween events outside the city. Camden officials also organized a massive police and fire presence, which along with a stricter-than-usual curfew, has helped tame Mischief Night.
The illustrationfriday.com challenge word this week is “poof”.
I have always loved magicians. My mom introduced me to magicians when we watched Tony Curtis’ totally inaccurate portrayal of Harry Houdini in 1953’s “Houdini”. When I was a kid, on every “Ed Sullivan Show” on Sunday night — between a performance by Vikki Carr and Morty Gunty — there was usually a magician. Long before David Kotkin made the Statue of Liberty disappear or Christopher Sarantakos walked across the surface of a Las Vegas swimming pool, there was Blackstone.
Harry Blackstone Jr. was a great TV magician. He was a staple on TV variety shows throughout the 1970s. Unfortunately, if you are younger that 30, you probably don’t remember him. He followed in his father’s footsteps and became a greater and more popular showman. He was a personable character with great audience rapport and a devilish sense of humor. His tricks weren’t spectacular, his act, however, was.
He was my dad’s favorite magician. One of Blackstone’s signature illusions was making a birdcage disappear while it was being held by three guys from the audience. He also selected gentlemen from the audience to assist in a trick involving a length of rope. He would always choose an elderly gentlemen and after a brief explanation, Blackstone would place his face an inch from the old man’s face and scream, “WE’RE GONNA DO A ROPE TRICK!” My dad would roar with laughter.
In 1985, on the 100th anniversary of his father’s birth, Harry Blackstone, Jr. donated to the Smithsonian Institution the original floating light bulb — designed and built by Thomas Edison. This was the first ever donation accepted by the Smithsonian in the field of magic.
He infamously performed during the half-time show at the 1987 Orange Bowl, in which four of the five tricks Blackstone attempted failed miserably due to missed cues and poorly designed props.
He also created four magic kits, from beginner to advanced, which were the best sellers at their time.
Blacktone died in 1997 due to complications arising from pancreatic cancer.
My wife always says that magicians on TV are ridiculous. I certainly understand that most things on TV are bullshit. And magic is bullshit. So, the two together equals double the bullshit. But I still find magic entertaining. Sure, it’s cooler seeing magicians in person, but I’ll take it where I can get it.
