Houdini called

At 4AM this morning my phone began to buzz and when I sleepily picked it up, the picture on the screen was a doorway from Yale. Long story, but what it meant was that Houdini was calling.

We have a long history and Houdini has taught me the most important lesson I ever learned.

The year was sometime in the early 80's, the actual year would be meaningless. Reagan was president. I think I had a stylish mohawk. I was a social animal, attracted to parties with friends and groups of strangers alike. I liked to mingle. There always, and when I say always, I actually mean every single time, there would come a time where I would need to leave the gathering, for whatever reason.

Before Houdini taught me the trick. I would grab another beer, feign interest in whatever nonsense was being spouted and pretend like I could transport myself somewhere else, somewhere where fascinating people spoke poetically. Yet, there I would stand, beer dangling from my hand as all these hipsters and haircuts would babble.

Then I met Houdini. He is better than me in every way, that should just be a given, smarter, highly educated, social skills and handsome as the day is long. Houdini had two modes, in a room of people he scoured the faces and found the prettiest, then he would approach, speak and maybe hit it off. As strange as it seems, even the pretty and smart often times do not connect with strangers. I know, I was shocked to learn that myself.

At some point we lived on the same block on the Upper West Side of New York. 99th and West End Avenue, which at the time was a lot more sketchy than it is now, so it goes in New York, one day a bunch of junkies and dealers, the next, a high rise and trendy club. I don't recall exactly how we met, but I know there was a month or two that I would spot Houdini in the park while I was running, or on 72nd street, waiting for a token to the subway, or just around. We started nodding at one another, as if we recognized a facial feature or may have met at a party, but the reality was, we were two buildings apart, we just kept seeing each other in the neighborhood.

Houdini is charming and smart. We spent an afternoon just chatting in the sun, sitting on a bench, admiring people. He invited me to a party that night. I went, about 10, a lot of people in a two bedroom walk up. I found Houdini in a tiny kitchen, he had a cigarette of some sort in his hand and was talking to a beautiful model. I walked around the apartment, looked into rooms of people talking, smoking, dancing, seducing - doing what people do at parties.

I returned to the kitchen and there stood the beautiful young model, alone. I sauntered up and asked where Houdini had gone, a blank look on a beautiful face. No clue. I walked the apartment again, checking every room, storage closets and bathrooms, no sign of Houdini. He was gone. Disappeared. A man came up to me as I left the empty bathroom and asked if I would like to dance. I spent the rest of the night talking philosophy with bankers, it was depressing. How had Houdini missed this? How had he just disappeared, leaving a model wanting more.

We met up the next day for carrot cake and I asked him, what was his secret? How did he disappear? He told me, and I will not tell you. What I did learn and what I can try to explain is why one must leave unfortunate situations. This was the wisdom of Houdini, not just being able to disappear, but understanding the proper motivation to time the disappearance. See, not every social gathering grows weary, but when they do, when you see the signs, you have to act and move quickly, like a cat in heat.

The trick is to never engage in such a way that escaping the situation is cumbersome. Houdini rule number one, never sit down. Seriously, his attitude is, if your feet are sore, it's time to leave. If you sit down, you will want to rest, possibly engage in another sitters conversation and then you are anchored. Keep moving. Be friendly. Speak to people, make eye contact, have a drink, relax, flirt, dance and always keep your eye on the escape.

In New York apartments there is often just one door to leave an apartment by. The plan to leave has to be carefully put into place when there is a single exit. When I moved to the West Coast, I would be in a friends house and there would be multiple escape options, from a back door, front door to a bathroom window or outdoor deck. Whatever the situation, when we would arrive at a party or political meeting or whatever it was, we would scope out exits.

Sometimes you walk into a friends house and it appears to be infested with right wing idiots or pot smoking hippies, and you know immediately you have to leave. Houdini taught me the move. If you open the front door and see danger, slowly walk through, saying hello to everyone, kiss women on the cheek and shake hands with men. Make sure you say hello and compliment everyone you see, slowly working your way through the entire house. If people are gathered in the kitchen, do the same thing. When you find the host, make sure to say hello, kiss cheek, shake hand and smile. Find that back door, walk directly to it, open it gently, walk out as if that is exactly what everyone should do, close the door silently behind you and walk happily to your bike, roll away, ride hard and do not turn around.

This is almost the exact move to make at other social situations too. It does get harder to pull off in a small apartment, but then, another Houdini peck of wisdom, watch the flow of the room, when things are getting uncomfortable, wait for a smoker, as they dig through their purse looking for the obvious cigarette, begin to make your way to the door, and time it so once they are moving to go outside to smoke, you are near the door, open it for them and follow them silently out.

I was in Seattle one night and my vicious friend Stony McStonington brought me to a musician party in Ballard. It was a nightmare from the moment we pulled up, long haired fame seekers, sucking down beer and bong hits and so far above cool, they were downright frozen. I knew immediately that this party would be a non-starter for me, but the problem was, Stony had driven, and this was his sort of party. We walked in together, but he started talking to a simple minded blonde moron almost immediately, I turned and mouthed the word beer and kept walking. Without making eye contact, another Houdini proverb, I marched right through the house as if I lived there. I saw a side door that looked like it opened onto a badly lit deck, I opened it with purpose, walked out, a few people passing a joint around, some steps and I was in the street.

That night, being in a foreign land with no taxi's or other options, I began to hitch hike. Amazingly, a small sedan stopped, and the window rolled down. The prettiest Man in the Pacific Northwest asked where I was going. I told him I was leaving a party, did not have a plan or transportation. He was on his way to a party, told me to get in and off were went. This time we stopped at an old house in Fremont, we got out and walked in. Again, a gaggle of hip and cool people, but something was off, something did not seem right. I told my new friend, the Prettiest Man in the Pacific Northwest that I had to use the restroom and I walked right through another house I had never been in, found a back door, opened it with suspicion and walked out, through a yard of some sort and into a small alley.

This time the person who picked me up was a leather clad daddy bear, on his way to some sort of kink club on Capital Hill, I took the ride, but listened to music the entire way, the smell of cigarettes, crusty leather and cheap beer filling the air.

Houdini had taught me well. In any situation for the rest of my life, when things get freaky, I can disappear, without so much as a goodbye.

Jesus, talk about tangents, this started because Houdini called at some ungodly hour to ask me a question. The phone next to my bed was buzzing, a Yale doorway on the screen, I answered -

Me: Who is this?

Houdini: You know who this is.

Me: Any idea what time it is?

Houdini: Where you are?

Me: Yes, of course, I could care less what time it is in China.

Houdini: It's 3 in the afternoon in China.

Me: Could care less.

Houdini: So what's going on?

Me: Seriously, it's 4 fucking AM, why you calling?

Houdini: Marriage problems.

Me: Seriously? If she is not dead in the next room, this could wait, right?

Houdini: My sense is that friends can call at anytime.

Me: Not if they want to remain friends.

Houdini: Well, you're awake now, right? Anyway, I just need some advice and I was reading your blog, thought you would at least shoot straight with me.

Me: Continue.

Houdini: I think she's fucking around, or about to.

Me: Seriously? Is this that woman I met?

Houdini: Right, you could not be bothered to attend the wedding.

Me: You have to let that go. It was you who would not let me be part of the wedding party.

Houdini: I would have, Sharon said you were a danger.

Me: Who is Sharon?

Houdini: My wife. Do you even know me?

Me: Have I met Sharon?

Houdini: Dude, seriously, I think she is fooling around on me.

Me: How do you know this?

Houdini: Are you typing?

Me: Now that I'm awake, yes, I am, answering emails.

Houdini: Anyway, she is working out, she looks great. A couple of years ago, same thing, after the baby, she started working out.

Me: You had another baby?

Houdini: No, just the one.

Me: I thought your kid was, like, a teenager.

Houdini: Nope, he'll be 5 next month.

Me: Oh, an Airies?

Houdini: No. What month are you in now?

Me: April?

Houdini: Anyway, a couple of years ago, she starts seriously working out, after baby stuff, wanted to get into shape. But she was already hot, and she lost, like, 10 pounds and looked amazingly great. Then I found out she was sleeping with a dude at the gym.

Me: Dude at the gym.

Houdini: Are you writing this down?

Me: No, should I?

Houdini: It's just, you repeated what I said.

Me: Repeated what I said.

Houdini: Never the fuck mind. Anyway, she is working out again, and I think she might be bangin someone on the side.

Me: On the side? Like a position, where she is on her side?

Houdini: Pretty fucking funny, at 4 in the morning.

Me: No, I'm fuckin funny all the time. Thinking of starting a new business, people call me at any fucking hour they want, just for jokes and shit.

Houdini: Anyway, I think she is out and about. I could hack her email or something, but I just have this feeling.

Me: What'd you do last time she was out and about?

Houdini: Couples counseling, and would never do that shit again. Waste of time.

Me: Right. Better to call me.

Houdini: You have advice?

Me: Yeah, start working out you fat fuck.

Houdini: I am far from fat, especially compared to you (inaudible).

Me:; Right, but work out with her. Spend the time in the gym with her. Remove the temptation she might have with all the super hot dudes, sweating and being sexy.

Houdini: Dude, I am not going to go to a gym and work out with hot dudes just to make sure my wife ain't getting pounded.

Me: Getting pounded? Wow, as romantic as you are, I could not imagine Sharon looking for anyone else.

Houdini: Sarcasm at 4-10 in the morning?

Me: You woke me up.

Houdini: So your advice is I should work out?

Me: Two options, spend more time with her, either as a spy, or as her husband who loves her and wants to spend more time, OR, you hack her email and see if she is hooking up, but a warning, hacking email might lead to you knowing something even skeevier than her getting pounded by a gym rat.

Houdini: Like what?

Me: Fuck if I know.

Houdini: You know, if I'd write you and email and you used it on your blog, you would probably have given it more thought. Wait, seriously, are you typing?

Me: No. Yes. I am.

Houdini: You won't use this on your blog, right?

Me: What?

Houdini: You won't use this on your blog, right?

Me: I could change your name, call you Houdini or something.

Houdini: You call me Houdini now.

Me: Sleep.