I believe strongly that there is real magic in the world.

Now, I don't mean rabbits and hats, or alchemy, or any of that nonsense. I am just taken, on rare occasion, with the notion that there are some times, places, and experiences in the world that are true magic.

Over the years, we have lost the belief in true magic. Too many things can be explained. Too many things have become commonplace, and we have lost our sense of wonderment entirely. This is my attempt to hang on to mine.

Magic happens every day, in little tiny bits. You can feel it when it happens, if you're listening closely. Some days there's more magic than others. Some days you're too distracted to notice. But it happens. Magic happens when an improbable confluence of factors comes together in an even more improbable configuration to produce something greater than the factors themselves; that is, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. (I've heard some people explain that this is how Microsoft Windows works, by the way). Anyway, as we all know, physics would state that the whole is always equal to the sum of its parts. Therefore, any event where the whole is greater must be, well,...

...magic.

Some things that I have found that are magic:

The Human Brain

The canonical example of everyday magic. Thousands of little sugar sucking neurons. Put one of them in a dish, nothing. No thought. No emotion. Put ten of them in a dish. Same story. Put a couple million of them in a person's head. They do amazing things. If you put a million chimpanzees in a room, they could never do deep reasoning or develop a written language. If you put a million chimpanzees in someone's head, well, that just gets messy. Nobody can explain exactly how when you put a million little sugar sucking neurons in your head, they can think. Until they do, I'm classifying this one as magic.

Writing Code

"The magic of myth and legend has come true in our time. One types the correct incantation on a keyboard, and a display screen comes to life, showing things that never were nor could be."
--Frederick Brooks, "The Joys of the Craft"

It would seem easy to explain how this one works, eh? Mostly, it is. I can pretty much give a rundown on exactly how the little characters I type at the keyboard get converted into electrical signals, then they get compiled into magnetic areas on a disk, and the GUI gets drawn by an electron gun, and how transistors work, and all that. However, Fred Brooks is still right. Programmers have a special ability to manipulate electrons by thought. Our ancestors have sought to do this, in some form or another, for sixty thousand years. There's something more about a computer program than little ones and zeros, C statements or compiled opcodes. All that comes together and creates a world where you can zap aliens, quest for treasure, or publish documents with a quality that Ben Franklin, a scant 200 years ago, would have absolutely killed for. If that isn't magic, I don't know what is.

Balboa Island

This is a tiny little island, crammed with little houses and shops occupied by little herds of yuppies. I have developed quite an affinity for this place, despite being only an occasional visitor and non-resident. You'd think this was a glorified retirement community for Newport lawyers and business owners. Hell, it probably is. But there's something more there. Walk down the street on a Friday afternoon one day. Go into the shops. See the little houses. Find the one with the sign in the window that reads, "Everybody should live in a place like this once." It's not just shops, streets, houses, a bridge and a ferry. It's something more. Something magic.

One bright and shining moment, I will live there. Maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

Disneyland

They really want you to believe that Disneyland is magic. It is. I don't get there often enough. It really is like stepping into a different world. It changes people, even for a few hours. Sure, I've been there tons of times. My parents met there. I go back to reminisce and forget, but as it's now 45 years old, I'm not the only one. Now, only half of Disneyland is there for the kids. The other half is there for those of us who remember. Go on the Haunted Mansion. When you're crammed in the sinking room with 100 other people, say along with them (and the narrator)..."there are NO windows... and NO doors!" Go on the Jungle Cruise at night. See the fireworks in the summer. Eat (and this is a MUST) at the Hungry Bear Restaurant. Go on the Rocket Rods, but not for the ride. Go to wait in line in the old CircleVision theater, but not for the promo video for the 'Rods. Go for the two second, twice-the-speed clips from the old CircleVision shows--you know, the ones about China and the American Experience. See a real Moonrock and understand that men left the planet Earth (for the first time less than 50 years ago), and went a half-million miles to pick that up. Ride the Monorail. My favorite's Monorail Red, you know. On your way out, stop at the candy shop on Main Street. And, before you leave, check the corner where the Coke fountain shop is. On a good night, you'll hear two guys playing four handed piano faster and more boisterously than you can possibly imagine. They were there years ago. They'll be there in years to come. The people, the stupid rides, the parade, the fireworks. By all reckoning, it's just a permanent carnival. But tell me you can leave there thinking that.

Permanecer sentados, por favor.

Sunrise at the Grapevine

Leave Orange County at 3 A.M. and take the 5 freeway north past L.A. At about 5 or 5:30, you should be just coming down the other side of the Grapevine, the mountain road that separates L.A. from Kern County and Bakersfield. If you're lucky, the sun won't quite be up as you start down the other side. If you've seen this, you already know why it's magic. If you haven't, go do it. Incidentally, you can be in San Francisco by about 9:30AM on that schedule.

A Proper Fourth of July

Wake up early. Go to the supermarket about, say, 7:30AM with your family. Go to one you don't usually go to. Get yourself some hot dogs, hamburger, buns, chips, potato salad, whatever you like. Take it home and put it in the fridge. Go do some shopping, or go to the driving range. After you're done, head to the video store and get a movie or two that you haven't seen. At about 5PM, light up the grill and barbeque up all that stuff you got in the morning. Have some friends or neighbors over. Watch the videos and catch the fireworks from your backyard. You only have to see one for it to count. Trust me.

Dutch Children

I was in the Netherlands once. Can't remember where exactly. Some friends of mine and I were touring a castle. Well, not really a castle, more of a "big house made of bricks." There was a courtyard in the middle. When I came out, just for a minute, about twenty Dutch children were playing something akin to "ring around the rosey" in the courtyard, singing in Dutch. Their teacher was watching from a nearby bench. We make life entirely too complicated.

Drive Through Dairy

Up in Monrovia in L.A. County, there's a small drive through dairy. One of the last of its kind in the country. The prices are insanely high. It used to have cows there, apparently, and it's run by a Korean family now. The sign proclaims "BEER, EGGS, SODA, ICF CRF (Ice Cream)." It has for as long as I can remember. Although it's completely unmarked and impossible to tell unless you know, that dairy is the first landmark on Historic Route 66, which doesn't exist any more. Take the 5 North to the 605 North. Get off at Live Oak Avenue. Go right, past Irwindale Speedway. Make a left where it ends. Make a right past the 3M building. It's on your left, across from the dilapidated Mayflower Market.