THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, January 21, 1995 TAG: 9501210016
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Maddry
LENGTH: Medium: 92 lines
QUICK. . . . What is it that breathes fire, swallows razor blades and looks like a Muppet?
Why it's MerMan the magician.
So there I was at the end of Simons Drive in Norfolk, the home of a magician who never grew up. The word ``MerMan'' was on the plate of his car. And a dog named Magic wagged his tail as I walked up the drive.
He met me at the door wearing a Garfield the cat sweat shirt and dark pants. He had a shaggy mop of brown hair and a goofy grin and looked boyish enough to do the faucet commercial featuring the large water balloon.
MerMan's real name is Merrill McCubbin. He's 31 going on 15. The house was a little museum of magic. In the living room, his magic props were stored in trunks that doubled as coffee tables. A glass case against a wall was stocked with glass figurines of sorcerers, magicians, a dragon emerging from an egg.
Beside the glass case was an erect dragon of plastic and a plastic castle atop what appeared to be a plastic mountain of crushed ice. Fantasy posters about showed mythical kingdoms.
The showroom at Willis Wayside it ain't.
MerMan gave me a warm welcome. When he extended his hand, his palm was on fire. Stick around MerMan and things like that happen to you.
``I do a lot of fire eating in my act,'' he said. ``I try to use flammable oil but sometime run out and use gasoline. Never use British gasoline for fire eating. The stuff tastes awful.''
I jotted his admonition in my writing tablet. There's a helluva lot to keep up with these days.
MerMan has been hooked on magic since he was given a set of magic tricks by his grandmother.
``When I was growing up, I wanted to be a forester,'' he explained. Then someone told him not all forests are enchanted.
After graduation from high school, he became a mechanic but found he was earning more doing magical gigs than messing with wrenches.
And the name MerMan? Calling yourself the Great McCubbin simply didn't hack it, he said.
``I've always enjoyed fantasy,'' he said. ``I used to read the stories about King Arthur when I was growing up. I guess you could say I never grew up, but I like it this way.''
Childhood suits MerMan. ``Wanta see my tarantula?'' he asked, eyes widening with excitement. The tarantula is named Malachai. Malachai looks like a fuzzy brown glove and lives in a square glass box outside the magician's computer room.
``Anybody can pull a rabbit from a hat,'' he said, stroking the spider gently with a finger.
``When I'm entertaining kids and bring out Malachai, they tend to scatter from fright,'' he said. ``Then, when I kiss the spider, they see it's OK. Next, I reach under the table and bring out a rubber spider bigger than an octopus and throw it toward the audience. They freak totally.''
MerMan has traveled all over the United States and Canada to festivals, schools, charitable fund-raisers, skating rinks, restaurants, parties, wherever. No one has asked for a refund. He's likable, polished and off-beat.
``I'm not into debonair. And not overly dramatic, although I do wear tails when I perform. I'm more laid back. Ask the audience to try on a little magic for size with me.'' He's doing a charity event for Hope House on March 3 at Norfolk's Maury High School.
I neglected to ask him why magicians tend to promote mutilation and destruction. You know what I mean, sawing folks in half, or poking swords through wooden boxes containing people.
MerMan, for instance, is into razor blades. I cut some black string with scissors for him. He took five sharpened razor blades, stuffed them into his mouth, chewed on them and brought them out like tiny fish all strung on the same line. Not exactly an ad for the American Dental Association.
``Don't practice this trick at home,'' he cautioned. I wrote his warning in the tablet. Lot to remember.
Minutes later he was in a corner blowing fire from his mouth. Mrs. McCubbin's son posing as a Ronson lighter.
``That's just a little of what I do,'' he said, as the round plastic fire alarm began to beep noisily from a nearby wall.
MerMan's biggest illusion is one in which he suspends a child in mid-air and passes a hoop over the kid's body. But he's working on one that will feature a female vampire with a stake in her heart who is raised almost to the ceiling.
Stake in the heart. Why can't magicians remove warts, bunions or a headache now and then?
When I left, MerMan said his English girlfriend was coming soon for a visit. He's a little worried about how his bizarre decor will sit with her.
``I plan to make some of the decorations and that plastic dragon disappear before she gets here,'' he said. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
MerMan the magician who lives in Norfolk...
by CNB