Some called me Jeff. Others called me Magic Jeff. A few called me Dommer. They were all me — and somehow, none of them were quite enough.
I was a walking contradiction. An old soul and a child at heart, all at once. A mixture of ego and consciousness. A magician and a scholar. An entertainer who gave himself wholeheartedly to whoever happened to be the lucky one in front of him.
"Just being in his presence would neutralize whatever weight was on your shoulders."
That's what they wrote about me. I'm not sure I ever believed it. But I tried. Every room I walked into, every card I palmed, every story I told too loud — I was trying. To make the moment lighter. To make you feel something other than the day you'd had.
I was magic itself, they said. Maybe that's what magic is. Not the trick. The lifting.
On April 27, 2016, I surrendered this body to cystic fibrosis. I was tired of coughing. So I went on to explore the next universe. I'll save you a seat.