Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash House Harriers
Founded in 1995. Likes to think of itself as NYC’s late night fun hash.
Friday night closest to the full moon. Starts at 7:15. Additional trails on Halloween and the (New Moon) Torch Trail in the winter.
History of the GGFM
In the best traditions of historical accuracy, there are conflicting historical accounts of the beginnings of this hash. One by the founder and the other by the original On-Sec.
Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash House Harriers History
By Its Founder
The Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash was founded March 8th, 1993, by Marian Konop and Ginny Carroscio, veteran New York City hashers who didn’t want to spend fine Sunday afternoons swilling bad beer in stale cigar smoke and bus exhaust filled hash bars. That was a treat best saved for night time. Although the original full moon hashes were run on the actual night of the full moon, they are now held on a Friday night close to the date of the full moon, and for several excellent reasons:
1. We run in Manhattan and you can’t tell if there is a full moon anyway because the tall buildings block the view of the sky.
2. As New Yorkers we thumb our collective nose at the ‘Laws of Physics and the Universe’ because we believe WE are the center of the Universe and can make our own rules regarding the motions of the solar system, such as full moons fall on Friday nights.
3. New York is a lonely town for those of us who don’t have dates for Friday night and we need something to do.
On On and AWOOOOOO!
Marian Konop, March 1998
Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash House Harriers History
G2FMH3 On-Sec 1997-98
Ed. note: For several years, the Hash has been struggling to determine the origins of that lunar phenomenon, Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash House Harriers. A large monetary reward was offered, to no avail. Recently, we received the following message, which is reproduced in full below.
December 9th, 1997
Below is my version of the G2FMH3 History for the Homepage. I couldn’t verify what my sources told me, but am relying on it all being fabricated truth ready for publication.
Best holiday wishes,
Post-war New York City had never seen anything like it before. Not since the Quaker colonization of the West Village, the burning of the Seneca Village, and the threat to turn Riverside Park into the ‘Lee Harvey Oswald Memorial Trailer Park’ had New York seen anything so heinous as what was about to take root within its metropolitan confines. Gotham was about to be inseminated with the demonseed of yet another hash and thus house two roving bands of running drunkards.
As with all other crimes against humanity, it started innocently enough with an idea born and shared by the wrong people.
On a snapping crisp fall afternoon in one of 3rd Avenue’s more famous bars of ill-repute, two very distressed and wayward souls came together to discuss their folly of starting a full moon hash in New York City. The malcontents in this twisted drama: Marian Konop and Keith Kanaga. Konop, a hasher known best for auto-hashing and setting trails laden with alcohol, deigned to conspire with Kanaga, an international hasher with a deceptively friendly demeanor, who had successfully planted the New York City Hash House Harriers with a list of co-conspirators whose names are only mentioned in passing as they have been forced to assume new identities to evade Keith ‘The Jackal’ Kanaga.
The NYCH3 had already been running for nine years since 1984 in sublime notoriety. Now, with a harvest moon rising in direct alignment with a hair in her ass, Marian was ready to make her move on Kanaga while he was comfortably resting on his laurels. A challenge ensued wherein both would drink full beers until one either failed to drink or one yielded to the other. The winner would assume ‘leadership’ of the full moon hash, give it a name, and enjoy all the rights and privileges ascribed to the title. The loser would pay the bar bill and keep the hell out of the way. And so they set to the challenge.
The contest began at a blinding pace and each put forth a valiant effort. Spiteful barbs referencing former romances and warm spots of the body were glibly tossed between the opponents. Empty pitchers started lining the bar as dusk fell to night. A small crowd gathered around the two as one would choke down yet another beer only to be matched evenly by the other. Sharp insults made in jest in the early rounds turned into immature remarks about farting after the first 5 pitchers. After the ninth pitcher, all verbal comments broke down completely to nose-thumbing and offensive third base coach signals until all forms of communication broke down to half-lidded stares, short huffs of breath, and drooling. Finally, the event took a turn.
A rousing cheer broke the silence as Marian gently returned her empty glass to the beer-pocked table and slid it under Keith’s bearded visage. An unidentified hand warily emptied a fourteenth pitcher into the glass and positioned it once again in front of Keith. ‘This should’ve ended by now,’ registered in Keith’s beer-soaked brain as he mustered his remaining energy to stay upright in his chair. He felt bloated; heavy from the liquid sloshing around the macerated piece of mushroom pizza he ate earlier. Also, someone had apparently tied his cowbell around his neck and it would now clang a doleful thunk every time he lowered the glass from his mouth.
‘Whose idea was it to have a hash on a full moon hash?’ he imperceptibly wondered as he aimed his hand at the beer glass handle. His entire focus was on this one beer and he found himself in a zen trance as he wiped away all thoughts of the previous thirteen pitchers he and Marian had just finished. Keith brought his focus on Marian across the small table–well, the Marian in the middle of the three Marians he was seeing–and tilted the bottom of the glass upward.
Sounds of awe trembled out of the surrounding spectators and evolved into laughter as Keith emptied his glass onto the table in front of him. Apparently, he had begun pouring his beer two inches before he had actually put the glass to his mouth thus soaking himself and the table in a rush of beer. ‘Thunk’ went the cowbell as he brought the glass down, still staring at Marian with one eye while the other eye listed about the room, completely unaware of the malt bath he was currently taking. The three Marians let out a triumphant laugh, got up from the table, and staggered off to the ladies room–but not without first removing the shirts from three fellows standing back by the pool table and declaring herself Grand Mistress of the Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash House Harriers.
Ever since that fateful day in 1993, the G2FMH3 has been rearing its foamy little head on Friday evenings closest to the monthly full moon and hosting a Halloween Costume Hash. Marian maintains her role as Grand Mistress of the G2FMH3 and finally, in 1997, appointed mismanagement after having appropriated enough Full Moon hash cash to finance her purchase of Laird and Christine’s apartment.
Ed. note: The Hash is indeed grateful to Mr. Fong for providing this authoritative account of the GGFMH3’s genesis. His skilled research also sheds new light on the origins of the degenerative condition sadly observed in both Ms. Konop and Mr. Kanaga.
Receding Hareline (Previous 60 Days)
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