What I used to be was a Chauffeur in Beverly Hills with a loving wife and two kids. But just like the David Byrne song in the film "Down and Out in Beverly Hills" "This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful car. This is not my beautiful wife." something came along to change all of that, just before I was about to get my Bachelors Degree in Computer Science. I taught my wife to drive. To repay me for my kind and loving deed, she stole my car, my keys, my wallet, my kids, my bank account but most of all my heart. My wife left me so she could become a lush, an alcoholic, hit me with child support, crash and burn my car, make sure my kids grew up 'real proper like' in the ghetto, create a falsely paranoid and unnecessary Black Beauty [Methamphetamine-for weight loss] induced fight for my for my keys so she could call the police on me and get a restraining order. I don't know what happened to my wallet, but I couldn't drive without a license so I was out of work, and even if I did have the license I couldn't drive to the back ridge of Bel-Air to work without a car. Even now this comes back to haunt me, she was convinced by her brother to force my daughter to take care of his snot nosed, neglected crack-baby. My daughter was being paid under the table for child care with a tiny fraction of the money my Brother-in-Law defrauded from the state in the name of taking care of my daughter. Now I'm technically a dead-beat dad who can't drive a car because the state refused to renew my license due some judgement I never heard of in San Diego County that says I owe them child support money - to pay them back for the state stupidly being defrauded by my Brother-in-Law. That law says any car I drive will be impounded because I'm a poor driver. BULLSHIT, I studied more about driving than any of the professional drivers I have EVER encountered and that includes training at Embrey 80 hours as a School-Bus Driver! I'm a dead-beat dad? Even though I always did the most I could to enrich the lives of my children? I worked very hard for the small amount of food, 20 to 30 grocery bags per trip, that was to feed my children and instead fed my rotten niece and fat mother-in-law lounging on Lazy-Boy furniture that was bought with my charge cards in clothing I paid for that was washed and dried in a machine that came out of my pocket. I have since come to realize that the anxiety and paranoia that my wife and daughter suffered from was due to the same cause, Methamphetamines. My wife snuck alot of them before my meth-baby daughter was born. My wife took alot of things from me. What does she want with a puppet collection that she can't use, but that I need for work as an entertainer? Well, to make a long story short, she did me a favor. She relieved me of all my earthly possessions as well as she relieved me of my earthly bounds. She cut loose the old ball and chain, the Old Battle Axe did. I drove many famous celebrities up until then and I was the best chauffeur in the realm. Now I'm just a has been, right? Wrong, I won't let her take that piece of me.

Sure I have a hard time eating most of the time, but I really love being a magician, when I choose to be a magician as my own boss, and I do it with the love of a fine craftsmanship cabinet maker, or the love of a chef that's very attentive because he's eager to please.