Sometimes, the eye is quicker than the hand.

       In Montreal, I had the honor of performing on the same stage that Sarah Bernhart had cavorted on at the turn of the 20^th Century. I resonated with the vibe of living history as we performed.

       For our final stunt, I figured I’d end with a joke, so I had my assistant stand at one side of the stage, holding a candle. I stood on the other side, about forty feet away. My whip was a four-foot bullwhip.

       Do the math – It’s an impossible trick.

       I twisted into a kung-fu windup and cracked the whip with as much fury as I could muster. She had been told that when she heard the whip crack, she should surreptitiously blow the candle flame out with a breath, a single puff unseen. Ha ha!

       It worked like a charm, but it was met with a stony silence. I glanced sideways at the audience and saw many jaws dropped onto many chests and leather vests. The message was clear: They thought I had actually done it.

       We took our bows and exited the stage, unsure of whether we had done a good thing or not.