After an extended trip to Great Britain, Harry returned to Austin and told me that he was moving to Hollywood, where he planned to become a television star. I thought he was somewhere between overly optimistic and just plain nuts and wished him luck. Harry introduced me to his clubhouse, the nearby Magic Castle, where some of the greatest magical minds of our century were happily spending their waning years passing on their trade secrets to eager youngsters like ourselves. Soon I was living in my own ratty Hollywood apartment, performing at comedy clubs, learning what I could, and chipping in my two cents worth as Harry created a smart-ass stage persona named Harry the Hat. Harry had to have it.
Panic is a fine inspiration.
By the time we reached Hollywood, Harry had written an entire new act in which the hold-out was the absurdly impossible explanation for how he'd performed a torn and restored bill trick. Taking off his jacket and dropping his pants, he'd show how he'd hooked his knees together and switched the money with the hold-out. The point, of course, was that his pants were down and his boxer shorts ridiculous. Audiences loved it, and the next time I turned on a TV, Harry was on Saturday Night Live getting famous. We did our goofy pickpocket act on The Merv Griffin Show and on the first Comic Relief , and we co-wrote a Harry the Hat book that sold better than any of the seven books I've published since.