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For My Next Trick

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Jeff Zycinski | 21:17 UK time, Saturday, 4 March 2006

Tam Shepherds

I was walking out of the building the other day when I saw a young trainee reporter dashing about with her microphone and mini disc recorder. I felt a pang of jealousy and decided there and then to make a concerted effort to get out of the office soon and get back to some hands-on programme making. I'll see if I can persuade one of our production teams to give me a job and I'll let you know how I get on.

In my early days as a reporter I developed an enthusiasm for the kind of cute, weird or wacky stories that, at best, you might call 'human interest' journalism. I interviewed a woman who kept a toy bear on display in her tenement window and changed its outfit depending on the weather. There was the warden at Stirling Castle who told me about the ghost who cooked roast beef dinners. And there were the two ladies in the Borders who travelled the country collecting Ken Dodd memorabilia, especially Diddy Men.
I have to confess there was one story I failed to track down and it relates to a strange black-fronted little shop in Glasgow city centre. It's called Tam Shepherd's Trick Shop and, as far as I can tell, it's been there, in the same location, selling the same sort of stuff, for more than a hundred years. In that time other shops, banks and businesses have come and gone, but this little trick shop survives against all the odds. I mean, it's a pricey part of town, so how come?

It stocks the usual assortment of jokes and novelties; chattering teeth, fake chewing gum with hidden finger trap, whoopee cushions, electric handshake joy buzzers and Mexican bandit moustaches. I believe it also sells more specialist equipment for professional magicians. I'm guessing that if you were keen to safely saw a woman in half, you'd visit Tam Shepherd's for the necessary equipment and not your local D.I.Y.superstore.

Years ago I made contact with the manager of the shop hoping to arrange an interview, but that request was turned down. It left me to imagine what secrets might lie within. Who was Tam Shepherd anyway? A famous magician? Perhaps the shop's survival is linked to real magic. I thought about Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter books. Perhaps the back door of Tam's shop would lead to a similar netherworld. Or just a big rubbish bin full of defective moustaches, non-jumping beans and x-ray specs that don't work in changing rooms.

Well, if you know any more than I do, I'd like to meet you and shake your hand. But watch out for the joy-buzzer.



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