Getting a referral call from the Castle it was like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates, you never knew what you were getting. The only thing you did know was that Jean, the human nerve center of this Mecca of magic, had quoted a fee. The fee never varied it was always two hundred dollars. It didn’t matter whether it was entertaining a thousand people in a ballroom, spending a month as a magical adviser on a movie or entertaining six people with a few card tricks at a restaurant. The fee was two hundred dollars. Sometimes you were working far below the market value and other times you made a killing. This gig fell somewhere between the two and while it didn’t make me wealthy I certainly made a professional killing.
Every year Ross Perot gave a banquet for the returned prisoners of war from Vietnam. It was a nice thing to do for a group in which even the casual observer could notice severe stresses and tensions. This year Mr. Perot had decided that a magician would be just the thing to complete the bill. It was quite a bill. The guest of honor was ex-governor and future president Ronald Reagan, in those days Ross Perot was still a king maker in the political field and not the candidate! This year the after dinner show featured: Carol Burnett, Edgar Bergen, Mike Curb’s Congregation, Sammy Davis Jr. and Tony Bennet. Our musical director for the evening was Nelson Riddle, who brought along with him his forty-two piece orchestra. I guess I was there for the star power. The most intimidating part of this was not having to follow the great Sammy Davis Jr. who had to leave early for his evening performance in the revival of “Stop the World I Want to Get Off” at the Schubert Theatre in Century City. No, what stopped my world was doing a band rehearsal with the great Nelson Riddle. I had an eclectic taste in music giving equal attention to Bob Dylan, Velvet Underground, Rod McKuen and Frank Sinatra.
When it came to Sinatra and Nelson Riddle no one said it better than Van Morrison; “When Frank Sinatra sings with Nelson Riddle strings, take a vacation!”
When the time came for my band call I walked onstage to Mr. Riddle who was seated on a piano stool in front of his grand piano and what seemed like an endless orchestra. To say I was nervous would be like saying Mike Tyson was aggressive. In my hand were my band parts or ‘dots’ as they are known in the biz. I had always been very proud of the jazzy arrangement of “Rule Britannia” that a bandleader from a cruise ship had written for me. There were band parts for ten instruments and some of these parts I had never even heard. However looking at this gigantic orchestra they seemed very, very inadequate.
“Mr. Riddle….” I began.
“Call me Nelson.” He replied. I really appreciated his gesture but in all honesty it was all the nerve I could summon just to call him Mr. Riddle. Nelson looked at my meager stack of music and smiled. “Nick, unless it is very important to you, maybe you can leave your intro and bows music to me.” He said with a friendly grin. “I am sure I can come up with something for the band.” I agreed gladly and that was the end of my band call. The band was itching to start their rehearsal with Tony Bennet. The mutual love affair between Mr. Bennet and the musicians was so apparent during his rehearsal it gave you a real understanding what the word harmony really means.
When the Show began that night I was standing in the wings, wearing my tuxedo with a fashionably frilly shirt, guarding the table that my props were placed on. People did speak to me but I really don’t know who or what they said. I listened as Sammy Davis sang several songs by another of my heroes Anthony Newley.
Sammy did some shtick, danced a little and then was gone. My turn. I stood in the wings and for the first time wondered what music would bring me out onstage. This was the summer of “Star Wars” and everywhere you went the movie was in your face; the characters, actors, images and best of all the, wonderful soundtrack by John Williams. When I was introduced, Nelson Riddle and his entire ensemble broke into the fanfare from Star Wars. “DA DA DADA DA DAAAAH DA….” Every single one of those forty-two musicians was playing his heart out. Strings were soaring, timpani was booming, horns were blaring and best of all there was ‘Nelson’ sweeping up and down the keyboard tying it all together. Just for a moment I stood there in the wings, took a deep breath, and realized that in my short career there had never been a moment like this. I also realized that there probably would never be another quite as good again. Just for a moment it ran through my mind that I should just not bother walking out onstage. I could have quit right then and there because it just doesn’t get any better than that, right there at the top of the mountain. Then I took another deep breath and walked out onstage.
