My journey into magic isn’t your typical “I got a magic kit as a kid and studied at Hogwarts until they made me president” type of story. Yet somehow, here I was—the 108th president of The Society of American Magicians, the oldest and most prestigious magic organization in the world. And yes, Houdini himself once held this title. No pressure, right?

One of my greatest influences is the brilliant magician Dan Harlan. You may not recognize his name right away, but I promise you—if you’ve ever seen a magician perform, you’ve probably seen Dan’s fingerprints all over the act. His creativity has shaped modern magic in ways most audiences will never even realize. I unapologetically love Dan for all he’s given to the art. That said, I still cling to one sacred hope: that my kids will believe I’m the greatest magician in the world.

Which brings me to my daughter. When she was little, I was studying Dan Harlan’s Tarbell Course in Magic video series. The series began around the same time she was born, and I devoured every lesson. As someone with dyslexia, the original Tarbell books were a challenge, so Dan’s explanations—filled with clarity, humor, and genius—were a lifeline.

But kids have a way of keeping you humble. One day, when she was much younger (and much less concerned with sparing Dad’s feelings), she declared that Dan Harlan was her favorite magician. Ouch. Not only that, I have video evidence of her challenging me to prove my skills—only to shut me down with, “Dan Harlan could do it better.” She even built her case like a tiny lawyer until I had to admit defeat: Dan really was the better magician.

Fast-forward to 2025. I’ve just wrapped up my year as president of The Society of American Magicians and am about to hand over the gavel. At this very convention, my daughter finally met Dan Harlan in person. Watching her excitement reminded me why I fell in love with magic in the first place: it’s not about tricks or titles—it’s about connection, inspiration, and making dreams come true.

And Dan proved that in spades. I watched him, more than once, stop mid-stride when someone shyly asked a question about magic. Think about that: you’re just standing there, wondering about a move, an effect, a routine—and the Dan Harlan, creative genius and master magician, hits the brakes on whatever he’s doing just to help you. That’s next-level generosity.

So thank you, magic—and thank you, Dan Harlan—for reminding me (and my daughter) that even if Dad isn’t always the “greatest magician in the world,” he’s still part of something truly magical. And hey, between us, I still do better card tricks at the dinner table (until, he comes over for dinner).

Here they are in 2025: