From the September 24th post "
Johnny and Me" by Julie Eng at
Magicana:
She squeals and The Great Tomsoni’s face says it all. He’s found the wad of bubble gum his beautiful assistant, “& Co.”, has just stashed—her improvised solution after being scolded—inside his top hat. My sister and I look at each other with total delight. We proceed to mimic The Great Tomsoni, move for move, stretching the sticky ball between his fingers. We collapse into hysterics in our backstage hiding spot when he reveals that this is hardly the first time he’s had to deal with his assistant’s antics. With an exasperated sigh and eyes rolling to the rafters, The Great Tomsoni peels back his tuxedo lapel and displays the other dozen pink, gooey masses already squashed on to his jacket. This visual punch line never fails to crack us up.
It’s the late Seventies. I am about six years old, and my little sister, Sandra, and I are tucked away in our “secret spot” backstage at a variety show in British Columbia. Our father, Tony Eng, had been hired to perform his act, Mysteries of the Orient, with our mother, Ann, on a program with several other acts. On the bill was a big headliner from LA, Johnny and Pam Thompson, a.k.a. The Great Tomsoni & Co.
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