The Man With Many Hats Whose Head Was Still Cold

Dylan was going through the mail one day after getting home from work and he saw a letter from a local magician, offering to do children's birthday parties.

He'd been wondering what to do for their son's upcoming party, and the idea intrigued him - right up until he saw the cost.

$200 for one hour!

Wow! That was a lot of money to spend on top of the presents and the food and drink for the party.

And then it struck him. Why not do a magic show himself?

He had no idea where to start, but he was sure he’d seen a shop in town that sold tricks. Pleased with himself at the thought of saving a bit of money, he decided to stop there during his lunch break the next day.

***

"Hello, can I help you?

"Hi. Yes, I'm looking to buy a few magic tricks to perform at my son's birthday party next month."

"Have you done magic before?"

"No, I haven't, so I'll need something that’ easy to do."

"No problem, I'm sure I can fix you up."

Half an hour later, there was a pile of half a dozen items on the counter.

"Now, II would recommend a specially designed table to keep all this stuff in for your show.”

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

The shopkeeper went to his storeroom and wheeled out a beautiful table, painted in vibrant colours with imitations of what looked like Disney characters.

It was precisely what Dylan needed, but once again, the cost was way too high. He'd already committed to spending $150 on the tricks and other assorted props, and now this table would cost him another $100. He was sure it was worth it, but he simply couldn't justify that additional expense.

"On second thoughts, maybe I'll leave the table for now."

"OK."

Minutes later, Dylan was walking out of the shop with an armful of tricks that he'd been assured would be easy for him to do.

He couldn't wait to get home from work and start practising them.

***

As soon as they’d finished eating dinner, he disappeared into their garage to start practising.

When asked what he was doing, he merely replied it was a surprise.

Three hours later, his wife was bored, tired, and a bit annoyed, so she went to bed.

Meanwhile, in the garage, Dylan was surrounded by tricks. He'd unpacked each item, read the instructions, and could more or less make them work. As the shopkeeper had said, they were not technically difficult to do.

But as he began sorting out the mess, he realized he did require a table after all. It needed to be something easily wheeled in and out of their living room, and where all his tricks could remain safely hidden until needed.

"Never mind, I'll build one myself. I'm sure I can do it for less than $100."

***

On his way home from work the next day, he stopped off at the local DIY store.

By the time he'd finished shopping, his car was full of bits of wood, screws, dowels, castors, hinges, and a couple of power tools. True, they had cost him another $100, but at least the tools would come in handy for other jobs around the house.

Back home, it was another night spent in the garage. He pushed all of the magic tricks into one corner and laid out all of the materials he’d bought to make the table.

Upstairs, in bed, his wife was irritated, not only by her husband’s continued absence but by the noise from the power tools too.

Dylan, meanwhile, had just finished cutting the wood and assembling the table.

He’d really enjoyed building it and realized that carpentry was definitely his thing.

***

The next day, he went to the bookstore after work and found a handful of books about making your own furniture. They explained what tools and techniques you'd need, and they included dozens of plans for many of the items that every household required, such as storage chests, dressers, nightstands, magazine racks, and much, much more.

***

For each of the next three nights, he locked himself in the garage tackling some of these projects - having pushed his unfinished magic table into the corner with the tricks.

His wife was beyond angry now - she was totally silent.

Dylan, meanwhile, made the big mistake of not showing her what he'd been building. If he had, she might have understood that he was taking up a hobby that had the potential to bring in some much-needed spare cash. After all, he could sell his furniture online or at a local market.

But he didn’t because they were still basically bare wood and didn’t do them justice.

Dylan knew he’d have to learn how to do some painting - something he’d never done before.

***

Another trip to the DIY store saw him loaded up with several cans of paint and a small spray gun, which he felt would be quicker and easier than brushes.

But before painting the storage chest he'd built, he found a bit of scrap wood to start practising on. The space in his garage was diminishing by the day. However, he didn't want to get unwanted splashes on the three items he'd already constructed. He therefore pushed those to the other end of the garage, along with his magic tricks and table, giving him space to try out his paint gun.

It seemed easy enough, although he did have trouble getting the paint applied evenly and without running.

Another hour later, having used up the last of the left-over wood, he was happy he now had the knack.

But painting his furniture in plain, solid colours would be a bit boring. He needed to know how to create his own designs.

***

On his way home from work the next day, he stopped off at the art store to buy some supplies - drawing pads, pens, pencils, and so on - that he was told he’d need.

He could feel it in his bones - this was what he wanted to do.

Or had he?

His first few attempts at copying characters off the Internet were barely recognizable as art, or anything in fact.

But he stuck at it - for two more days before he realized he needed more knowledge and experience.

***

The next night, his wife was surprised to discover he wasn’t heading off to the garage after dinner. No, he was off to the study instead.

Minutes later, she heard the unmistakable clicking of keys on the computer. This was because he was a ham-fisted typist, which annoyed her as she'd been a secretary before they had their son.

Dylan searched for information about graphic design and landed on a website specializing in online courses. He soon found a design course and signed up immediately. There had been a few free ones, but they seemed too basic for his needs, so he paid for a more advanced course.

***

Each night for the next week, he was at the computer, much to his wife’s annoyance, as he worked through the course.

He had tried to follow along and do the homework, but he realized that paper and pen were too limiting. He needed something "better", and as luck would have it, he saw an ad on the course website for the latest graphics tablet.

Yes, that’s what he needed!

***

To that end, he stopped off at the computer store on his lunch break the next day and ended up buying a tablet and digital pen with which to draw, along with some expensive graphic design software. It was the best on the market - or so he was told.

It took him a few more nights to master the tablet and learn the basics of the software, but now he was on his way, at last!

***

Several more nights passed with him in the study and his wife going to bed early and alone, but he was getting there.

He had made reasonable progress and was able to create designs that actually resembled something. And then he had a brainwave - he would create 54 designs for a deck of playing cards.

***

A week later, he had all of the cards designed - a unique drawing on each face, and a back design for the entire deck.

OK, great, but now what. These designs were doing no good sitting on the tablet. Dylan needed to know how to get them printed on actual cards.

Another quick search found him reading all about creating hand-printed cards. All he needed was the blank card stock, some inks, and a few other materials, all of which he knew he’d find at the art store.

***

Dylan created more space in his garage for the printing equipment because he didn’t want to risk using potentially dangerous chemicals inside the house. His wife was probably ready to kill as it was, but if he spilt something on the furniture or carpets, he would be a dead man.

After a bit of practice using some spare card, he thought he’d be able to get it to work. He even went so far as to print the two Jokers, which came out perfectly.

But he was tired, and this was not something he wanted to rush and make mistakes, so he headed back inside, expecting to find his wife in bed again.

He was sadly mistaken.

“OK, Dylan, enough is enough. What have you been doing all these nights by yourself? What is this big surprise you have planned?”

And that’s when Dylan remembered that their son’s birthday party was the next day - and the magic tricks and unfinished table were still sitting at the back of the garage.

Better ring that magician and spend the $200 - if he was still available!