My favorite comment after returning from my Philadelphia tour was an email I received from a guest. He wrote, “Your show is a thing of beauty, a magical symphony.” Wow. What a nice compliment. But I must say that Philadelphia audiences – who came out in droves to the magnificent Four Seasons hotel last week – made my job a pleasure indeed.

Whenever I launch the show in a new city, there is considerable risk on my part. Will people show up? How do I get the word out? Do I have any fans in that city who can help drum up interest?

Fortunately, Philadelphia is close enough to my home base in NYC that the word spread quickly. I even got a little advance press on a cool blog that has a large local following. The four shows sold-out swiftly, even before I arrived in town.

Another part of the risk in performing in a new city is that I’m not familiar with the room layout. Every room has different restrictions: pillars in unfortunate spots, unusual lighting fixtures, different types of furniture than I’m used to, etc. So, I have to get there early enough to “tread the boards” and make sure that the show will still  run smoothly.

In New York, I know where everything is located in the room by muscle memory. If I stand in one spot and reach with my left hand, a needed prop will be there – every time – so I don’t have to go “hunting” for it. That’s one of the luxuries of performing regularly in the same venue for many years.

Being in a new room, like the Four Seasons showroom last week, forces me to be mentally “present” since I’m not nearly as familiar with the surroundings. I like that, though – it keeps me on my toes.

Speaking of surroundings, I had the chance to enjoy the surrounding city near my hotel, including the historic district of Philadelphia. And I ate at a lovely Japanese restaurant called Zama. (By the way, in Japanese, if you say the phrase “Zama miro!” it means “Serves you right, wise guy!” Another translation is “In your face!” I wonder if the owners of Zama restaurant have ever had to use this phrase to a customer…)

At my final show of this tour, Philadelphia Weekly magazine sent a reviewer to watch my performance. He wrote an email to my manager the next morning, saying simply, “He floored me.”

A few days later, he wrote a gushing review, some of which I can’t repeat here (due to profanity).

My favorite part of the review is:

The other trick that blew us away again involved us writing down on cards. This time it was our name and three things special and unique about what makes us us. Cohen went around the room, calling out people’s names and then TOLD THEM THE SPECIAL AND UNIQUE THINGS ABOUT THEM WITHOUT EVER LOOKING AT THE CARDS, which he put in a box that he placed a bell atop of as an “alarm.”

In the crowd was Philadelphia magazine’s Victor Fiorillo. When the show was over, Victor told us his father was a professional magician. Then he said, “I’m picky about my magicians,” a sentence we didn’t know could exist in the world before he proved it. Cohen called on Victor after listening to the psychic signals in the room, tapping in to the telepathic pipeline and extracting our vibes and thoughts.

“I’m getting a name that begins with a V. Vick? Victor?”

Victor raises his hand.

“Victor. Hi. I’m getting a number from you.” [Listens to the vibes.] “Yes, yes. A number. One. Two. Five. Do the numbers one two five mean anything to you Victor?”

“No,” Victor replies, picky about his magicians.

“Hmm. Curious. Curious. Now Victor, how about 125. Say, 125th. I’m getting 125th  Street. Yes, yes. 125th Street in Harlem New York.”

Victor smirks, his magician picky-ness cracking a bit, perhaps.

“Yes.”

“Now, Victor. I see you on a stage. I see you on a stage singing at a famous theater, is this something you’ve done?”

Well, duh. Victor sang on stage at the Apollo Theater to his wife on her birthday as a gift. It was one of the three unique things on his card between, presumably, “I’m in a band called Martha Graham Cracker” and “Everyone at Oscar’s Tavern wants me dead.”

C’MON!!!!

Cohen didn’t look at the cards. And he did this thing—read our vibes, extracted our thoughts, told us what was on our cards—to about a dozen people. He knew a guy just repaired his roof and that another had a cat named Herman. (Only he didn’t. After naming the cat’s color and type he actually caught the vibes that its name was “Pee Wee.”)

C’MON!!!!

Go see the guy. It will make you a kid again. You deserve something special in your life. This is one night of special.

Thank you, Philadelphia! I can’t wait to bring the show back to your town.