Roddy Piper Rides with the Ghosts

So long Roddy. An era dies with you. Maybe its just that I was born at the right time, but it seems like you and your contemporaries were the last of the good honest liars who could tell a tall tale with a twinkle in his eye. When I was a child I had friends who believed you were really a Scotsman and the punches really landed. Back then, you and them and any American could be whoever he wanted to be, if he could just get someone on TV to announce him into a microphone. And we got older of course, and we got wiser, and we didn’t believe. We found out your big secret.  You weren’t really beating people up. You weren’t really from Scotland.  You weren’t really a villain. You were actually a nice guy who didn’t take himself too seriously.

That was it. That was your big secret.

You didn’t dope your way to dominance in a major sport and lie about it for years. You haven’t been drugging and raping women on the sly for the last half a century. You just put on a funny costume and flipped out. We as, American, want to believe that we can do anything we want in the world. But we can’t. We aren’t Pecos Bill or Paul Bunyan, but there are two ways some of us get close. There are the tellers of tall tales, like Buffalo Bill Cody, and there are the secret, dedicated liars like Richard Nixon. You were the fun kind.