Friday, March 25, 2011

Happy Birthday Harry Houdini


Hanover Fist

Most of you might not know that yesterday was Harry Houdini's birthday. Happy birthday, Harry. Granted, it's a day late, but what's a day after all these years? Besides, Mary didn't tell me until late last night that I had to write this thing and by then Regan and I had taken a few drinks to toast you, my friend. You know, they've legalized absinthe again, so you can guess what Regan was drinking. I, on the other hand, drank my usual rum and coke.


I could give you the background of Harry Houdini, but you can find that on this Internet thing. I would prefer to tell you about the man, not his illusions. The illusions were his work, not the man.

Harry was a friend of mine. We had what some would believe was bizarre friendship. Harry Houdini did not have the soft hands you would think most actors would have. He was a real man who was not scared to get dirty. He was also a man who was not afraid to call a friend a friend, even if some people could see them as only freaks. That's right. Harry Houdini had lots of "circus freaks" as friends and he looked out for them when "normal" people tried to take advantage. As Harry always said, "The only true freak is the one that hides behind the mask of being normal."

Fine, fine. Mary wants me to talk about his illusions. She says that's the purpose of this what we're doing here – to let people in on the reality in the myths or some such thing. So I'm sorry, Harry. You know I've always been a sucker for my ladies. So after all these years, I'm going to give a few of your secrets away.

The world knew Harry Houdini for his stage magic – his illusions and grand escapes. But Harry's magic was more than that. When he wasn't on stage, he used his magic to try and repair the weave that protects us from the Realms. I do not know for sure if he was a realm creature or if he learned his magic from one. But I do know his magic was real.

Unfortunately, even real magic couldn't save him. The sad truth is, I watched him die not once, but twice. I am telling that story to those writers Mary hired. When they're satisfied I've told it all and I'm satisfied with their retelling, you'll learn the truth.

Well, Harry, I guess I'll sign off here. If you can access this Internet thing from wherever it is you went, know that me and my girls are still fighting the fight.