iBAM! Chicago 2012 - Irish American News

24 Irish American News “We’ve AlWAys Been Green!” September 2012
"Cowards die many times before
their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death
but once."
Okay Shakespeare, call me a
coward because I have died many
times…on stage, screen, radio,
and once while actually laying in
a coffin.
I’d forgotten about that last one
until telling the story while attending
one of the many wakes that
have recently popped up on my
social calendar.
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A good Irish wake requires two
important ingredients: booze and
laughter. Evidently there is now a
state law against bringing booze
into a funeral home, or so an undertaker
told me as he stopped
me bringing in a case of beer to
the back room at Donellan’s on
Western Avenue.
But sneak it in if you must because
it sure makes the time go
faster when you’re on your feet all
day shaking the hands of mourners.
And a “touch of the creature”
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has medicinal value to loosen the
memory and recount the good
times you shared with the loved
one. They say the only sound a
dead man hears is laughter, so keep
the stories going.
Many years ago, my Uncle Paul
had the temerity to die while I
was back in Chicago introducing
my future bride, the lovely Mary
Carney, to my family. The highlight
of her trip was attending the wake
and funeral of ol’ Uncle Paul, a
retired cop who was in his eighties.
For some reason Mary got a case
of the giggles at the wake, which
endeared her to all the Houlihans.
She tried to stop but that just
made it funnier for her and soon
there were tears streaming down
her face from trying to cease the
giggles. She made a wonderful
first impression.
One of the great gifts of being
Irish is our ability to laugh at death.
There’s nothing funny about it
when it’s a child or the sudden
departure of a mother or father
but for the rest of us, well we all
know sooner or later we’re going to
be taking the dirt nap. And we’ve
been mocking the grim reaper
since the day Lazarus laughed to
the night of Tim Finnegan’s wake.
Actors of course have an affinity
for kicking the bucket and have
adopted death as a metaphor for
a lousy performance.
There’s a Cagney story, maybe
apocryphal, of a young actor who
was worried about his death scene
in the film, “Ragtime”, and he
sought out James Cagney on the set
and asked him for any tips on dying.
Cagney reportedly looked the
young man in the eye and sneered,
“Just die, kid.”
And then of course there’s the
old story, attributed to many actors,
but most often to Shakespearian
thespian Edmund Kean, who
was greeted at his deathbed by a
friend who said, “This all must be
terribly difficult for you” To which
Kean responded in a frail voice,
“Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”
And then promptly dropped dead.
Several years ago I was lucky
enough to have a guest spot on an
episode of The Untouchables. I just
recently received a residual check
for twenty-six cents when it played
in Denmark.
I played an Irish cop who is murdered
by a villainous Mafia type.
The show centered on the character
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of a ten year old boy and I played
the kid’s father. We filmed the
scene of my wake at an old funeral
home that was rented out by the
production company for the night
and renamed “Taylor’s Mortuary”.
The actor playing Mr. Taylor
walked around the set constantly
wringing his hands and rehearsing
his lines to himself. Unlike
Mr. Taylor, I didn’t have any lines
in that scene because I was dead.
It was interesting lying there in
the coffin with my shoes off, but after
a couple of hours I grew bored.
The kid knelt in front of me on the
kneeler and it was taking hours
to set up the shot. During a lull
I finally opened one eye towards
him, “Psst, psst, psst!’
The lad smiled because I had
been goofing around with him
during the whole episode. I whispered
to the kid, “Mr. Taylor is a
necrophiliac!”
That’s when the kid very loudly
asked, “What’s a necrophiliac?”
All hell then broke loose in
the funeral parlor and I was immediately
sternly lectured by the
director and almost fired. The crew
seemed to find it amusing and the
kid kept asking everybody until
being told to “just shut up and go
back to crying.”
In retrospect I guess I’m lucky
they didn’t kill me at my own
wake.
Wanting to laugh at wakes is
what makes us Irish. I think that’s
because we don’t fear death because
we know it’s not the end, but
merely a portal to an everlasting
life with Our Lord and savior.
I hope when I eventually die for
real everybody at my wake will remember
that. Enjoy yourselves as
much as me, sneak in some booze
and let’s have some laughs! See
you at Sheehy’s!
For past columns go to www.
mikehoulihan.com
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