[Editor's Note: Tickets are still available for TAM Vegas 2011!]
In 2003, James Randi invited 150 skeptics to Florida for the inaugural Amazing Meeting. The conference featured speakers such as Hal Bidlack, Jose Alvarez and Phil Plait, and was an unprecedented success. Eight years later, TAM has become a truly international event, having expanded to three continents (for now), and attracting some 1500 people to the annual TAM in Las Vegas. I was fortunate enough to experience the recent TAM Australia from a particularly unique perspective, and I hope youʼll allow me a somewhat self-indulgent 2000 words to describe the event to you.
My first “amazing encounter” was at TAM 8 in July 2010. Attending a Vegas TAM had been on my ‘bucket list’ for a number of years, so in March I bought a flight, booked a room at the South Point hotel and begged my bank to increase my credit card limit. They obliged, and a couple of months later I was sitting aboard a Boeing 777 with a small wad of unfamiliar looking currency in my pocket and about 40 packets of Tim Tams in my checked luggage.
TAM truly is amazing, and there are a number of experiences from the event that I will never forget. I stood in the middle of the Vegas desert next to Phil Plait, as he pointed out planets and stars to myself, Rachael Dunlop and Richard Saunders. I got to attend the inaugural TAM ʻSkeptics In The Tubʼ (subtract the traditional pub and add a Vegas size hot-tub). I even got to rub shoulders with TAM 8 keynote speaker Richard Dawkins (although as we were the only two people in the elevator, he politely asked me not to stand so close to him). Though, as you can imagine, there is one person at TAM that everyone wants to meet. The man who started it all - James “The Amazing” Randi.
I find the notion of approaching one of my heroes spectacularly terrifying. I wondered what I might actually say to Randi once I got past “Hi, Iʼm that guy that e-mailed you that time”. What if he was in a rush to be somewhere, and didnʼt have time to stop? Would I say something to make myself look like a bit of a tit? A previous encounter with another of my heroes, Derren Brown, had me rambling about airline weight restrictions and my girlfriend's obsession with shoe shopping while on holiday. I certainly wasnʼt in a hurry to make myself look that daft a second time. Despite encouragement from a number of my new friends, I never once got up the courage to wander over and say hi to Randi, eventually giving up and assuring myself that I would do it “next year”.
Come the Monday, TAM was all over and I was sitting in the hotel restaurant with some other attendees when Randi happened to wander past. He stopped for a quick chat, and I finally got the opportunity to shake his hand and say hello. We chatted for a few minutes about the upcoming TAM Australia, and Randi revealed some secret details about the event that I was later begged not to mention to anyone. I left the hotel on a massive high, promising myself Iʼd return to TAM as soon as I possibly could.
The Oz factor
A few months later I received a phone call from Eran Segev, president of Australian Skeptics, reminding me that while we were in Vegas I had offered to help out with “anything that I could” during TAM Australia. He told me that he had a job for me that meant I would potentially miss some of TAM. This sounded a bit of a shame, but he added that the committee needed someone to volunteer as James Randiʼs personal assistant for the duration of the event, and that they wanted me to do it. Youʼll need to check with Eran to find out exactly which expletives I used and in what order I used them in, as the remainder of the conversation is a bit of a blur. I must have agreed, because a little over three weeks later I was standing at the Sydney airport international arrivals gate alongside Richard Saunders.
Surprisingly, I don’t remember being star struck. As I shook Randiʼs hand and said hello, my mind flashed back to Vegas and the nervous, chubby guy who couldnʼt summon the courage to stroll up to him and have a chat (that, and to the awesome seafood bar at the TAM hotel). As we exited the airport, Randi enquired as to what horrific crime I had committed to deserve the punishment of spending an entire week dealing with a cantankerous curmudgeon such as him, before we hopped into a car that took us back to the hotel.
Randi is unlike any 82-year-old Iʼve ever met. After flying from Florida to Los Angeles and then on to Sydney, he agreed to accompany us on a stroll through Sydney and the botanic gardens. We stopped along the way to collect a cavalcade of skeptical celebrities including Team Novella, Rebecca Watson, George Hrab and Brian Dunning. I wondered what kind of effect this herd of critical thinkers could potentially have on the city of Sydney. My mind was filled with visions of pharmacies slamming their doors shut as we passed, and shopping mall reflexologists cowering in fear behind drawn curtains. Sadly, none of these events actually occurred, but we stopped for a brief bite to eat and then continued on through the city. Following the gardens, Randi retired to the hotel for the remainder of the evening, and I jumped at the opportunity to have dinner with George Hrab, Jay Novella and Rebecca Watson, well aware by this stage that my job certainly came with a few awesome perks.
The following day saw us up early to attend a couple of radio interviews at the ABC, which occupied a significant part of the day. Following lunch, I suggested Randi take a couple of hours to relax prior to his evening TV appearance and the Skeptics In The Pub event. He disagreed, suggesting instead that we visit the TAM venue to see how the preparations were coming along. Having worked on the registration desk at TAM Vegas, I knew that the venue was going to be teeming with attendees registering, and organisers charging around at mad pace. Randi refused to take no for an answer, and soon we were strolling up to the Sydney Masonic Centre – fortunately not far from the hotel – where he spent several hours chatting to the few lucky attendees who happened to be in the right spot at the right time.
Pubbing and TAMming
Randiʼs official introduction to the TAM attendees at the City Hotel later that evening was truly remarkable. Randi, along with myself and Tim Mendham, were among the last to arrive, following a trip to the ABC for Randiʼs appearance on The Drum. As Randi reached the top of the stairs, almost every person in the room turned to look, bursting into a spontaneous round of applause. Like a modern-day Moses standing before the Red Sea (minus the sandals, but with a much nicer beard), the 200-strong crowd parted before him to form a sort of guard of honour. (As I write this, Iʼm kicking myself for not asking him to walk in front of me every time I went to the bar.) Randi took a seat on a couch, ordered a drink and got down to the job he came to Australia to do – to meet every person who wanted to meet him, to sign autographs, answer questions and pose for photos.
Just prior to 6am the following morning my phone rang. On answering, a familiar voice greeted me at the other end of the line. “Hello Chris, this is James Randi. Are you awake?”
As it turns out I wasnʼt, but a few minutes later I was staggering down the hallway toward Randiʼs room, wondering what he could possibly need from me at such a hideous hour of the morning. The door opened before I had the opportunity to knock, and Randi gave me a wink and told me that “he knew I was coming”. We agreed that this could only be the result of his finely tuned psychic ability, and began making plans for the day.
Suffering from a severe case of jetlag, Randi had been up since the early hours of the morning working on his next book and on his talk for the conference. Somewhere around 4am he had made a list of well-known American terms that he was concerned would get lost in translation, and we discussed possible alternatives. Randi, if youʼre reading this, Iʼd like to once again sincerely apologise for my initial reaction when you asked me if I had “laundry balls”. I helped him with some issues he was having with his computer - I was pleased to learn that Randi is a Mac, not a PC - and eventually it was time to head off to day one of TAM Australia.
Much has already been written about the events of TAM, so I need not repeat what others have already said, except to say that we looked upon it, and it was good. Randi took part in a number of talks and panels, and as Iʼm sure youʼre aware was very well received. The event featured some truly incredible speakers, many of whom I had never seen before, but spending the duration of TAM Australia alongside Randi was without a doubt the highlight. The role gave me a unique opportunity to meet a number of my heroes, people who I would normally never have encountered, and to spend time with a man who I have admired for years. We spent hours discussing our common interest in conjuring (Randi prefers to be known as a conjurer rather than a magician), and he was kind enough to teach me a number of his own routines. We discussed the contents of his forthcoming book, A Magician In The Laboratory. He told me where he finds his favourite lock picks. (I wonʼt spoil the fun for anyone else, except to say that you can find them in cities all over the world, and should you ever be walking along a street with Randi, heʼs likely to dash into the path of oncoming traffic to collect one.)
During his closing address, Randi stood in front of the audience and thanked them for coming. He thanked the organisers for their tremendous dedication and hard work, and he thanked me for spending the week working with him. Itʼs a spectacularly odd experience, having one of your biggest heroes stand on a stage and mention you by name. I felt my face go red, and I slowly sank into my seat, all the while hoping that the footage would end up on the DVD so I could annoy my friends and family with it for years to come.
The Post-TAM experience
Randi remained in Australia for a couple of days following TAM, taking time to catch up with old friends. If you happened to notice a helicopter hovering above the Sydney CBD the day after TAM, that was very likely Randi and Dick Smith. The night before he left Australia, Randi joined a group of remaining speakers and TAM attendees for a chat and a drink in my hotel room. He told us a number of stories, many of which weʼd heard before, but nobody seemed to care. We were all aware that Randi hadnʼt come all the way to Australia to give talks or sell books. He came to meet the people who look up to him, to make new friends and to catch up with old ones, and to inspire the next generation of skeptics. And he succeeded admirably.
The next day I accompanied Randi to the airport, surprised at how quickly the week had passed. As we waited at the check-in desk, we noticed that the woman processing Randiʼs passport was sporting a Power Balance bracelet. Randi winked at me and whispered, “I donʼt think weʼll mention it.” We walked to the passenger gate, Randi shook my hand and thanked me again, and then he was gone.
If youʼve got any photos of Randi from TAM Australia, thereʼs a good chance Iʼm in them, standing in the background looking awkward, or pouring him a cup of tea. I missed out on some of the talks and most of the social activities of TAM, but well and truly made up for it by spending a week working with one of my heroes, who I now consider to be one of my friends. Randi is a remarkable man, and itʼs thanks to him and his organisation that we have the chance to attend TAM. It is a unique and wonderful opportunity to spend a few, short days with like-minded people, and itʼs one of the few places in the world where skeptics can feel completely free to speak their mind without fear of potentially offending their friends or horrifying their families.
If you can get to Vegas this July for the Amazing Meeting 9, do not hesitate to walk up to Randi and say hello. Itʼs exactly what heʼs there for, and he is telling the absolute truth when he says that he wants to meet every single person who wishes to meet him. And do tell him I said hello.
Oh, and Eran. If you ever need someone to do you another ‘favour’, please let me know.
Chris Higgins is a web designer and the founder of the Melbourne Skeptics.