Magic and a memory block

Sometimes I rather not knowing the truth. Magic is one of those rare cases. You know the magician is playing a trick on you, and with amazement you keep guessing how he did it. Even though you cannot satisfied yourself with what you could come up with, it's more interesting to have the multiple possibilities than the single truth. Because once the truth is known, the fun is spoiled.

Alexander is B's friend and a celloist who could do a few tricks, such as making a handkerchief or a coin disappear in his fist. But when asked how he does it, he'll never answers directly. Instead he'd shift your attention to something else, say, your kid. Although a bit secretive, I'd rather so.

Sometimes one tends to volunteer information unnecessarily. "I asked you to show me what you have in your pocket. You don't have to take off all your clothes!"

I was thinking about it on my way to work Friday and was cracked up with that thought. But while in the office I could nolonger remember what was so blog-worthy except for the magic part. It simply slipped out of my mind.

Then this morning, when again driving in the car on the way to work. It suddenly came back to me as something about 'volunteering information.' Somehow it just came back when I was mulling on something someone said in the radio (actually the guest was someone from Havard's Kennedy School of Government, and the topic North Korea's recent missile test).

I did say a prayer for remembering it. And this is how amazing it is even on such trivial matter.