Magic is almost exclusively the realm of children these days. Those adults that do believe in it are generally hoping desperately that it's there in order to give meaning to something in the world, or just so they can know there's something greater than the small and lonely creature called Man, so often impotent against the many nuances of life. Children don't hope for magic, because they know it to be real without question. When everything you see and feel is new and amazing, how can you but believe in magic. I used to control the wind and the clouds with my hands while standing in our front yard. Parts of me still believe in that, but they're almost all the parts of desperate hope, hope for proof that I'm truly part of the world. Adults lose magic and with it, faith. Most of us need proof even for our beliefs. Even religions, as much as they use the term faith, still needed miracles and magic to believe that they're seeing divinity. But when I watch old television clips I can still feel an echo of that real magic that I knew when I was a kid. It's an echo from the hundreds of thousands that first experienced the modern miracle that is television, the bridging of the gap between people from all over the world. And as sad as the state of TV and its current uses are, it's even sadder to think upon how it used to be, when television was filled with images of man exclaiming at all the wonderful things we could do, all the little parts of us that made us all human, and how everyone shared them. That was the magic of it: finding out that everyone was just like you at the core, that you are not alone. And there is a very small part of me, that sometimes I can't even hear, that resonates with that echo and others from lives lived, and it knows magic is real without proof and without desperation. If you can find it in yourself you will always feel joy deep in the center of yourself.