harryhero

Harry Hero is a collaborative family writing project. He began as typing practice for author #6 in the mid-seventies. Authors M, 1, 4, 5, 7, spontaneously and sarcastically contributed until Harry took on a life and momentum of his own. He was reborn as a Christmas project in the early nineties and again as a web project in the new millennium. Once more Harry has risen from near tragic and certain literary deaths to live again as blog practice. Bulwer-Lytton judges take note.

About Me

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It seems I have suffered and survived a few insults and injuries to my cranium, thus my memory does not lend itself to one seamless life I could call my own. Instead, my life seems to be one dim episode after another documented by a random and rather odd conglomeration of assorted biographers who, for some bizarre reason, seem compelled to document my trials as if I were a remarkable hero. Heroism can take many forms. Perhaps it is finding fresh strawberries in November for the Manhattan socialite's crepes as she breaks her fast. Perhaps it is found in a multitude of skills, lucky breaks and death defying feats. It may be true that piloting my faithful rig, Betsy, through the Canadian Rockies is not for the weak of spirit, mind or body; I claim no special talents other than devoted love and endless hope. Love of a good truck, a good cup coffee and a good adventure. Hope of self-actualization and...Sophie? If you desire a chronological –not necessarily logical- plotline begin reading at the January 26 2006 post - The Not So Constant Gardener - and follow subsequent postings to present day.

Blog Archive

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Harry opens his eyes.

Harry flexed and extended his prehensile hairy toes, swung his flexible left limb up to his right wrist and wiggled his big toe. The scalpel sharp, steel toenail glinted in the neon lights. Harry smiled as the memory of his good friend Buck, came flooding back to him……

“This toenail may wear out of few socks, Harry,” he had said, “but it will get you out of a bind someday.”

….Harry shut out Buck’s image, no time for memory lane now, he thought, and deftly began to slice at the wrist restraints.

Abruptly, the door flew open. “WHAT IS GOING ON…NURSE TENDERLOVE! Get in here PRONTO!’ Harry turned to the bellowing voice of Dr. Maybe, opened his eyes and finally faced his long lost nemesis who was sneering savagely down at him.

Nurse Tenderlove blasted into the room, coffee stains dribbling down her starched whites. “Get me 20 mg of Versed! Yesterday! And, call security AND the O.R.!”, he barked at the icy nurse as she skated from the room. “We’re going to do an emergency lobotomy and nailectomy on this psychopath before he harms anyone”, Dr. Maybe explained to the vapor trail that had been Nurse Tenderlove. He cackled at Harry who struggled in futile desperation against the still intact restraints.

To be continued…
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