He arrived with a seedy two-bit carnival, The Dill Brothers
Combined Shows, during Labor Day weekend of 1932, when I
was twelve. Every night for three nights, Mr. Electrico sat in his
electric chair, being fired with ten billion volts of pure blue
sizzling power. Reaching out into the audience, his eyes flaming,
his white hair standing on end, sparks leaping between his smil-
ing teeth, he brushed an Excalibur sword over the heads of the
children, knighting them with fire. When he came to me, he
tapped me on both shoulders and then the tip of my nose. The
lightning jumped into me. Mr. Electrico cried: "Live forever!"