User:StarFleetFerengi/sandbox

Irwin Royes was born in New Orleans (July 18, 1947,) a city unlike most others in America and one famously known for its diversity and appreciation of differences that make a difference. An early big difference for Irwin was that he was born with Osteogenesis Imperfecta, commonly known as the "brittle bone" disorder. This genetic disorder is characterized by bones that break easily, often from little or no apparent cause and its name literally means "bone that is imperfectly made from the beginning of life." early on he suffered many bone fractures and he spent time in Children’s Hospital to heal and learn exactly the range of what he could physically do and not do. Fortunately, Irwin’s remarkable mother was a pillar of support, as well as someone who was realistically inspirational. One of Irwin’s earliest memories was listening to his mother say, “God gives us things for a reason; the challenge is to discover the reason.” This observation has been a guidepost for Irwin because he has discovered many reasons during these past years, and when “magic” first gained access to his heart in 1959, the delight, stimulation, inspiration, and empowerment that followed had been indeed incredible. Perhaps the most telling aspect (as Irwin says in a past interview): “I think the most amazing thing in my life is how I proved the doctors wrong. When I was born they told my mom to take me home, care for me as best she could, and I may live a few years. Well, I turn 66 on my next birthday. So, those predicted “few years” has expanded more than a half century!”

Irwin’s introduction into “magic” was experiencing the magic of Gottlieb Kogel, a charter member of Assembly #36 in New Orleans and now its oldest living member. Kogel also owned a local magic emporium for many years and was a major supplier of white Java doves during the hey-day of dove magic. Kogel invited Irwin to assist him and then proceeded to magically pass a rope through Irwin’s body. After the show was over, Irwin was hooked; and like many other youngsters, he saw an ad in a comic book (Douglas Magicland) and ordered his first magic set, complete with a ball-and-vase and a deck of trick cards. During another encounter with Professor Kogel, he was invited to attend a meeting of the Crescent City Magicians Guild, where Irwin met other magicians and learned more magic. But at this stage, magic was simply an energizing hobby.

Meanwhile, because of Irwin’s unique condition, he had a different, unusual schooling. He attended Gentilly Terrace and was tutored in a one-room classroom until he began high school at Delgado Trade School. However, at Gentilly Terrace he met another significant person in his life, his teacher, Mrs. Cuccinatta. She encouraged Irwin to overcome his reluctance to stand up and perform in front of people. She was a catalyst, the one who released Irwin from his “cocoon.” Then and only then did he begin playing a clarinet, singing, and performing magic for audiences.

After Irwin graduated from Delgado with a degree in commercial art, he entered the job market. He knew photography and was an adept sign painter; however, he discovered there were limited opportunities for him. He also worked as a telemarketer and as a promotional coordinator for Chucky Cheese. Physically, he was ambulatory, but he encountered other subtle and not-so-subtle obstacles and limitations and most jobs were unfulfilling. More important, he wanted to earn a livelihood for performing magic, a craft and art that he loved and one that was having a significant influence in his life. During this fallow period, Irwin joined the Society of American Magicians in 1972 and later became a member of the International Brotherhood of Magicians in 1979. During the late 70s he worked, with his sister Gail Royes as his lovely assistant, wherever he could, mostly birthday parties, benefits, and a few school shows. But a turning point occurred in 1982 when he heard about a pizza emporium in Metairie, Louisiana that featured musicians on weekends. So, Irwin called the owner of the Fireside Inn and arranged a meeting. During this fortuitous encounter, Irwin pitched the idea of a magic show. (The sample trick he performed was the Devano Rising Cardscourtesy of Al Goshman.) The owner agreed to let Irwin work the next weekend. Irwin would make balloon animals for 30 minutes and then perform 45-that thminute show while workers made and called out pizza orders to be picked up. At the time, Irwin’s repertoire consisted of a dozen solid routinesmany derived from studying the books by David Ginnand he learned balloon sculpturing from Jimmy Davis’ One Balloon Zoo.

It turned out that the Fireside Inn was the perfect venue for Irwin. It was large and the main room consisted of dozens of picnic tables. It was designed to look like a cozy, medieval lodge. The initial weekend, after Irwin called a friend and local deejay Jerry Valance of WSMB advertised Irwin’s appearance, the place was packed. The family-centered audience, especially the kids, loved the show and kept coming back. What began as a conditional audition turned into a 12-year run perhaps the longest, continually successful run in the history of local magic venues. Needless to say, during that 12-year run, Irwin honed his craft and perfected his persona. He reduced the number of routines from twelve to sixthe half-dozen continually changing and being rotated in and out of service. Like most professionals he learned e most important thing is to create a memorable rapport with audiences and create humor and humanness out of the relationships you create with children and adults. Irwin also listened to the helpful counsel of his elders. Local magicians such as Eddie Adams, Ralph Fountain, Joe White (who was one inch taller than Irwin), and Ernie Heldman provided seasoned guidance. But, as Irwin says, “There is nothing like the acid-bath of experience. I learned by trial-and-error, and I always paid close attention to my audiences. What they said, directly and indirectly, and how they reacted was my advanced education in magic presentation.”

During Irwin’s successful run at the Fireside Inn, he also worked other venues. He was among the first to perform at shopping malls in New Orleans (Lakeside, Clearview, Hammond Square, and Esplanade) and every year worked the big fund-raiser (“Boo At The Zoo") for the Audubon Zoo. While other magicians he knew were going to magic conventions, he was working, having leftover time to attend a few local conventions. He has done countless television appearances, including ones on the old PM Magazine in 1981 and 1982, when they did exclusive features on Irwin’s show and another on “little people.”) He was part of a one-night vaudeville show in 1973, sponsored by the American Cancer Society where they raised $15,000.00. Irwin also played “Little Johnny,” the bellboy featured in ads for Phillip Morris cigarettes.

With the advent of video-gaming emporiums and pizza-delivery, restaurants such as Fireside Inn closed. When this happened, Irwin, who was fairly well-known in this area, advertised in the yellow pages and became a free-lance children’s entertainer, specializing in birthday parties, school shows, and library programs; and he has been featured at the Children’s Castle off and on for a decade.

All in all, Irwin considers himself to be a lucky man. He now has a new life-partner and wife, Stephanie, who loves magic as much as he does. She is also now an integral part of his shows these days. Irwin one day hopes to chronicle his adventures and misadventures in magic, as well as comment on the sea-changes that have occurred in our field. He occasionally laments the fact that the landscape of magicdom is dramatically changing and he is often discouraged when he sees magicians perform “by the numbers” and without any heart. He sorely misses people like Jay Marshall, Karell Fox and Harry Blackstone Jr., who were models for what Irwin has aspired to be; however, he happy that colleagues such as David Ginn, Duane Laflin, George Schindler and Bob Fitch are still around. He adds, “If young, up-and-coming magicians listen to these guys and other knowledgeable elders, the future is safe and magic will never die.” As far as Irwin is concerned, magic is alive and well where he lives (despite the travails of the post-Katrina environment). Irwin still takes pride in his props and the way he dresses for every show. He adds, “More important, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me because I was born with OI or that I’m four foot three in height. I want everyoneof every size, shape, age, and inclinationto know that if you want something bad enough in life, you can find a way to get it.”

As far as the world’s smallest magician is concerned, life is sweet and magic-with-a-capital-M still enlivens him, providing him with the purpose and vision his mother said it would. Few things are any bigger than that.