“So, it’s a convention for magicians?” that’s what they say, “and only magicians can attend?” So I tell them that’s true. “How many magicians?” they ask, and I tell them six thousand. That’s when they spit out their coffee. After they take it all in, they’ll say, “And what do you all talk about?” I pause. Mostly just magic, I tell them. Satisfied, they drink some more coffee, “where did you say it was again?”
Blackpool, I tell them… Blackpool, England.
“Blackpool?” they say…
“Why Blackpool?”
This is a question every friend asks when I tell them I’m driving to the northern seafront town and into the February storms in pursuit of magic. It’s a question I still struggle to answer. It’s one I will try my best to answer for you today.
