Many have stated that magician Roy Horn’s recovery from the mauling of a white tiger was nothing short of a miracle.
I’d have to agree with them, if only because I unknowingly became Horn’s miracle maker.
Back in 2003, my roommates and I created a death pool. There was a draft of 5 rounds, plus a wildcard round where we had to pick someone under 50 years old (my pick was Robert Downey Jr.).
We fought off the obvious immorality of the pool and drafted. Each of us believed we had solid drafts, but only time would tell which of us would be the victor.
If none of our picks had died by the end of the spring semester, we would go into a “Sudden Death” (bitchin’ pun) round where the first person who had someone on their list die would collect the pot.
Time went on and none of our picks died. Then came the reports of Roy Horn’s mauling during his Las Vegas show by one of his own tigers. He was in critical condition and chances of his recovery weren’t looking good.
Thinking nothing of it other than surprise that it didn’t happen sooner, I went on with my life. Then a day or two later, I walked by the death pool picks that were written on a sheet of paper in black ink and taped to our livingroom wall. Remembering that the game was at a stalemate, I took a blue sharpie and wrote “HORN” under my last pick.
My roommates and I shared a hearty chuckle, but they wouldn’t let the pick count if he died.
I wrote his name, Horn made a turn for the better. He was upgraded from critical to serious, and is still alive today.
Had I not written his name on that pool sheet, Roy Horn would have met certain death. I played a more important role than the doctors, prayers, and all the fans that supported him.
Although he never thanked me, I take solace in knowing Horn is petting a white tiger and/or having sex with Sigfried right now because of an action I took in 2003.
That was the day I saved Roy Horn’s life.
My day off was celebrated in a most masculine fashion. After getting the latest issue of Shape Magazine (with the FABULOUS Vanessa Minillo on the cover), I skimmed through it for the newest exercises.
I memorized them before heading to the gym, MP3 player in hand. All of the essensial work out tunes where there. “Physical” by Olivia Newton John, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” “Hey Mickey,” and EVERYTHING IN THE WILSON PHILLIPS CATALOGUE!
After a rigorous 90 minutes, I came home, immediately threw my pink tanktop in the laundry basket, then turned on the TV. Just in time for “Bold and the Beautiful.” I ate bon-bons (great after workout food. I have no will power). then took a nap.
I was awoken by a phone call from my friend Jack, who invited me up to his place. We celebrated our day by busting out the pina colada mix. As he crushed the ice with his magic bullet, I sang the “Pina Colada song.” And the answer is yes, I do like getting caught in the rain.
We flipped back and forth between “American Idol” (LOVE YOU SANJAYA) and “Dancing with the Stars” (LOVE YOU MORE IAN).
A heated discussion ensued about Ian Ziering’s evolution from 1990’s heartthrob also-ran on “90210” to a guy in his 40’s who’s aged well, we settled finished our drinks and decided to change it up a bit by breaking out the Bartles and James cherry wine coolers.
For a night cap, we gave each other facials. I cut pieces of cucumbers to place over our eyes to reduce the swelling. Then, the facials came off and I bid Jack good night.
I retreated to my apartment, where I fell asleep with the latest issue of Playgirl in my lap.