He performed some tricks that were so old they were practically new again, many youngsters in magic including myself, had never even seen the “Rice Bowls” or the “Mutilated Parasol” let alone performed them. Charlie did them with a grace and twinkle in his eye that made them irresistible. I could have watched him for hours and I did, as he graced the stage of the “Magic Castle” with the charm of slightly rogue uncle. A magical legend in his own time, Charlie was a big man, larger than life, with a waistline to match. After Charlie suffered a mild heart attack his doctor gave him an ultimatum, lose weight or suffer the consequences! I think it was probably a tough decision for Charlie, who loved his food almost as much as he loved magic. This is where I got to know him a little better. As a callow young magician in his early twenties I realized how close I was to letting another of Magic’s greats disappear while I was only on a nod and smile basis with them. Heck, I wasn’t totally sure he really knew my name! So I plucked up my courage during Charlie’s recuperation and asked him if I could assist him in anyway. Charlie asked me if I had a car, when I said I did, we were off and running. He said he wanted to go to a favorite restaurant about five miles from his home and have lunch. He wanted me there not so much for the transportation or the company but to help keep him on his diet. I was ecstatic a luncheon date with Charlie was a serious step up in the magic world for me. I arrived at his Hollywood home at the appointed time and there he was waiting on the curbside, dressed up in
clothing that would have been suitable for weather that was twenty or thirty degrees colder.
We drove up Highland Avenue to a restaurant, which looked as if it had been frozen in time since Hollywood’s long gone golden era. The staff greeted Charlie with the excitement and respect that Jerry Lewis must receive when he walks into a cinema in Paris. We were ushered into a dark booth at the rear of the restaurant and menus were brought to the table. Charlie peered at the menu and ordered a very healthy meal. He ordered something from every part of the menu: soup, salad, pasta, and steak with baked potato. He then looked at me and asked if I thought he could add a desert to the list. I said that I thought that would be just fine. I realized that was what he wanted to hear, so I went right ahead and said it! I figured that this was the reason I was there in the first place. After washing down the meal with a couple of cups of coffee, Charlie leaned back in his chair and said; “This dieting thing isn’t too bad at all. That was a good meal!” He called over the waiter and I assumed he was going to ask for the check. However this was far from being his intention. “That was good,” he said. “Bring me the same again.”
That was exactly what happened. The waiter brought the exact same meal from soup to coffee and Charlie ate it again with obvious relish! Having found a healthy meal to his liking he was going to stick with it. While more than a little surprised, I was along for the ride, and second time around I took the opportunity to ask him a question or two about our mutual craft. I can’t say he said anything that I found too earth shattering at the time but in years to come I realized just how profound his thoughts were in spite of their simplicity. The secret to magic according to Charlie was to choose strong tricks, don’t be afraid to perform the classics, know everything you are going to do and do it well. Most important of all was to make sure people knew you were having fun doing it.
We repeated our luncheon ritual once more a few weeks later. It was identical, not only the two meals but he also ordered and ate the exact same food. I would have happily repeated the proceedings on a regular basis, but before I knew it the Charlie Miller recuperation was complete and “Twinkle Toes” Miller was back on a cruise tripping the light fantastic.
It was a pleasure to have spent some hours with this very special gentleman and I treasured our all too few hours together. I was delighted to realize I must have made some impact on him because in the future when we met at the “Castle” he always greeted me with a cheery; “Hi, Nick.” That was the kind of thing that made you feel like a million bucks when it happened.
There was just one thing that I couldn’t quite fully understand about Charlie. When observing him in his daily activities he had the slightly nervous and bumbling manner that suggested someone who, if not past his prime, at the very least must be having a bad day or at least wearing the wrong glasses. In all honesty for a man his age this should not have been any great surprise. What didn’t quite jibe with this was the fact that amongst the upper echelon of sleight of hand magicians, Charlie was considered to be one of the very finest card manipulators living. He was reputed to perform the smoothest second, middle and bottom deals in the business. This in spite of the fact that when you saw him handle playing cards he usually looked more likely to drop the deck than perform miracles with it.
After he had passed on, I gradually pieced together a very different picture of Charlie. It didn’t arrive all at once but bit by bit from people I would expect to know exactly what was what.
Aside from being the fine comedy magician that he was, able to produce a brimming mug of beer under your nose, Charlie was a gambler. Well maybe not a gambler, but what was known as a ringer in gambling circles. A ringer is someone who is introduced into private card games and can be relied upon to deal the right card at the right time. A good ringer can make a lot of money for a lot of people at the right time, as long as he doesn’t do it too often and above all if he doesn’t get caught doing it. Well the story I heard was that Charlie got caught at the wrong time with the wrong people with a ‘hold out’. Now, if you don’t know what a hold out is then you probably will never need to know. Keeping it brief, it is a mechanical device used to change out cards during a game. A genuine ‘hold out’ is something most magicians never see in their entire lives. They might see a magician’s version of this device, but a real one is a different story. It can range from a very expensive contraption, to a couple of skillfully used rubber bands. The story goes that after his cover was blown Charlie decided, like so many others, to take a cruise for his health. He just stayed away a little longer than most, and got a paycheck at the end of each cruise for publicly demonstrating his flawless performances of those classic magic tricks from the back pages of the magic world. Is this story true? I certainly couldn’t swear to it, but others do, people who knew Charlie a lot better than I did. Heck, I was just happy he knew my name. As I had sat with him, watching him eat his marathon meals, I knew he reminded me of someone. Only later on did I place the resemblance, it was my grandmother. They had the same slightly abstracted manner and bumbling quality that seemed out of place with their obviously razor sharp minds. Now as I told you before, I really don’t think my grandma was a cheat. And only once or twice a year does it run through my mind that Charlie was anything more than he appeared, but I sure would have loved to watch them as bridge partners. Maybe I would have known for sure. Maybe.
