Throughout the blockbuster hit, Magnum PI, there were questions of whether Jonathan Quayle Higgins III was actually Robin Masters, but that was never a question I had about Higgins. I always asked myself, “Does Higgins even know who I am? Does he love me the way I love him?”
Those that know me might be surprised I love Higgins so much when it is common knowledge that my love for Magnum PI and his mustache runs deeper than the Grand Canyon, but love, like many aspects of life, isn’t always cut and dried and love triangles are not a rare occurrence, especially when it came to Higgins and Thomas Sullivan Magnum. Alas, I’m here to talk about Higgins, and just how much I love him, we can talk about Magnum another time.
Serving as a Sergeant Major with the British Army during WW II, Higgins knew a thing or two about discipline and I’d often lose myself in thoughts of being subject to such discipline. On top of being a high ranking officer, he also holds the title of Baron of Perth. Can you imagine being in love with a Baron, with a man of such high nobility? I can.
Higgins and Magnum would often butt heads, as is the case with such contrasting personalities, but you can’t blame Higgins for wanting to settle down the impulsive private investigator. It must have been heartbreaking for Higgins to watch Magnum bring home countless women in the cherry red Ferrari 308 GTS, while Higgins yearned for a mustache ride from Magnum. I know that desire has fluttered through the minds of anyone, man or woman, who has seen Magnum. There I go again, talking about Magnum. Sorry.
Sometimes I imagine Higgins and I, deeply in love, living in a cozy beach house in Hawaii, sitting by the ocean, watching the lads, Zeus and Apollo (Higgins’ Dobermann pinschers) frolicking in the surf. I think maybe Magnum would show up one day to say hello. We’d ask him to stay for dinner and some drinks. We’d shoot the shit for a while, then Higgins would go to bed early, because he got a little too much sun and I’d tell him, “I’ll be right in.”
When the light of dawn poked through the bedroom blinds, Higgins would awake, rub his eyes, yawn, and slide his hand over my side of the bed only to realize I wasn’t there. Then he’d call out for me as he searched the premises. Eventually, Zeus and Apollo would lead Higgins past a trail of carelessly strewn bottles of Coops beer (Mag’s fave!) to the Ferrari, where He would find Magnum and I curled up in the front seat together. He’d say, “I always knew the day would come when Magnum came between us, I just always hoped it would be him and me together.”
At that point he’d reach past our sweaty entwined legs, open the glove box and take out Magnum’s trademark M1911, semi-automatic handgun, put it in his mouth and pull the trigger. As Higgins’ lifeless body fell forward, leaving a dark thick trail of red on the hood of the Ferrari, Magnum and I would look at each other and smile, because hey, love conquers all, dude. Did you know Higgins had a doctorate in Mathematics from Cambridge University? Ya, I’m impressed too.
Thanks to TS Hendrik of The Non-Review for suggesting I “Write about [my] unbridled love of Higgins from magnum P.I.” Check out his site if you haven’t already. TGIF.