Hypnotism at the Texas Opry Theater in Weatherford, Texas
That’s not exactly what I got, but it was close.
I attended with two friends; we were seated front and center. The show was to start at 7PM, and around 7:10, the lights went down. A stage hand turned on a strobe light that was aimed directly into the crowd. It hit us at eye-level-my friend and I had to shield our eyes with the paper programs.
Another stage hand dumped water into an old cooler stage-right, and wisps of fog drifted out, then dissipated into the darkness. The stage hand dumped more water, but didn’t achieve the desired effect.
At 7:20, Deryl Harrison appeared onstage. He began by telling us we had no reason to fear embarrassment, because he was never embarrassed.
Then came the volunteer-calling. Seven folks came onstage-an older couple, two younger men and three women. Deryl began with a woman in a white blouse. He asked her if she’d been hypnotized before, and when she nodded yes, he remarked “That’s right, you told me that earlier.”
He put her into a light trance and she was unable to remember her name when given the instruction “What’s your name, you can’t remember,” three times.
Then the men were asked to step front and center and make their arms so stiff Deryl would be unable to move them. This done, they were asked to take their seats.
The women stepped forward, and were asked to roll their arms forward as fast as they could, forward and then reverse. A woman in heels and a brown sleeveless shirt rolled so emphatically I thought she might lose her balance.
The women were seated, and Deryl gave all the volunteers more relaxing instructions and more exercises to complete. A man on the end and the woman in heels were one step ahead of the instructions from that point forward. One volunteer was unable to continue because the woman in heels relaxed so deeply her head lolled into the other volunteer’s lap. We all felt sorry for her.
After the ‘bad subjects’ were asked to sit down, Deryl was left with three volunteers. He caused them to believe they were on “American Idol”, and each was asked in turn to sing for the audience, all fifteen of us in the crowd.
The young man, when handed the microphone, put his head down and walked offstage. Perhaps it’s true that a hypnotized person cannot be made to do something they would rather not.
The woman in the white blouse may really have been in a trance, for she sang a few painful bars, and handed the mic back. Then the woman in heels sang, overeager and tense, her breath coming in short jerks.
For the finale, Deryl was left only with the woman in heels. He called for two male volunteers, but quickly we realized that he knew one of the men, as he identified him as both the lady in heel’s husband, and by his name, Bob.
I think the finale was supposed to entail a stone being broken over the woman’s abdomen, but I couldn’t really tell because the chairs used earlier in the act were still center stage, blocking our view. Nor could the audience hear anything, because the microphone had been abandoned.
A woman in the audience finally hissed “move the chairs, we can’t see,” and Bob, the supposed volunteer, obliged. By that time all we could see was Deryl with a mallet and a stone broken in two on the floor. The woman in heels had been laid across two chairs; perhaps this added to the drama. I can’t say, because I still couldn’t see from my third row center seat. Deryl’s back was to us, and he was now blocking the view.
I was able to see the woman being laid on the floor, and then brought to her feet with a dazed look. She smiled, and chirped “What happened?” Deryl asked for a round of applause, and she smiled on cue again, and was led offstage with her husband, Bob.
Would I try hypnosis myself? Maybe. Would I hire Deryl to do it? Sorry, he’s already gotten fifteen of my dollars, and I haven’t gotten my money’s worth.
