NYCH3 # 1062

NYCH3 #1062, July 28, 2004

HARES: Jesse and Karen

Start: 42nd & Ninth Ave

On In: Back Page

Guest Scribe: Peter



Why do we do things when we’re drunk that we don’t do or won’t do when we are sober?  How many of you have woken up with a wicked hangover on a Saturday morning, only to hear, with horror, the sheets rustling in bed next to you?  How about scarffing down a bag of sliders from White Castle at 3:00am because it sounded like a good idea at the time?  Or singing Sweet Caroline at the top of your lungs at Karaoke night?  Or worse, it’s not Karaoke night? Or wearing a pair of skin-tight, hot-pink shorts out in public…oh…sorry.


I have it on good authority that Kyle, in a rare stroke of genius, waited until the crowd at the recent H.O.P.S. (Latin for Freeloader) got good and liquored up…and then pounced like a lion.  He apparently filled up the hare-raising book with drunk, unsuspecting hares from now until the 2007 AGM.  Be honest, how many of you have gotten the call or email from a hare raiser saying “I need a start location for your trail on such-n-such date”?  To which the usual answer is “My what?”


So you can imagine my surprise when Mean Jean came up to me half way through last week’s down-downs and said, “You’re doing the write up tonight, right?”  All of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.  “Shit, that’s right.  I vaguely recall telling MJ I would do this week’s write-up.  What was I thinking?  I must have been drunk.”  But then it all started coming back to me.  Earlier in the week at the NASS we were sitting around Chuck Gleason’s back yard having a decidedly un-drunk afternoon when the conversation turned to scribes or write-ups or something like that.  In a moment of stupidity, even for me, I made the seemingly innocuous comment “You know, I haven’t written a write-up in years.”  MJ, like any good Scribe, jumped at the opening I’d inadvertently given her and the next thing you know I was this week’s scribe.  All I’m saying is that a reminder at the START of the trail, and not halfway through the down-downs, would have been nice.  But I digress…let’s rewind to earlier that evening.


Lesley and I turned up at the corner of 42nd St. and 9th Ave. at the appointed hour to find a throng of hashers clocking the sidewalk, many of whom I didn’t recognize.  I wondered to no one in particular the reason for such a large turnout?  Was it the possibility of a rain-free hash for a change?  Or maybe Magoo’s effort to bring the hash to the masses is starting to pay-off?  Then I remembered this hash was being dubbed as Jesse’s Last Stand.  Which brings up another question: Where these people here to pay their last respects to our diminutive friend, or just to make sure that he didn’t miss his bus at the nearby Port Authority?  So many of life’s great questions go unanswered.


In due time Jesse gave out the instructions and set the pack on it’s merry way.  The trail ran north and west to the West Side Highway (that’s the Joe DiMaggio Highway for you Mets and BoSox fans).  I looked down to see a trail mark pointing south that had been marked with a ||| and a pack mark heading north. One of the virgins looked at me and said what does that mean?  I said that someone had determined that the trail didn’t go south but in fact went north.  I looked at Sticky who blurted out rather defensively, “Don’t look at me, I just got here.”  Eventually the trail worked its way up to 57th and 9th where a Back Check slowed down the pack long enough for me to catch up.  We looked north.  We looked south.  Eventually John Burke and I looked east and found trail at 58th & 8th.  John headed south; I headed west, trying to find the rest of the pack.  Luckily for me the bulk of the pack was running toward me on 58th.


As I headed across 8th & then Broadway, the pack gaining on me quickly, I heard much commotion behind me.  Something to do with a cab and a pack of runners who as a rule are color blind to traffic lights and don’t believe in crosswalks.  However, based on the level of ire directed at said cab, my guess is that for once, the pack was in the right…this time.


Once the trail entered the park it meandered over the West Drive and then back under.  Deciding that the trail would continue to weave over and under the West Drive, I continued north on the drive, keeping the pack in my sight to the east…until the pack was no longer in my sight to the east.  I continued up to 72nd street and decided I better start to work my way east.  As I ran across the transverse I said to myself in Carl Spackler fashion, “I have to think like a varmint, and wherever possible, smell like a varmint.  Now if I were varmint…er…Jesse, where would I have an on-in on the east side?”


THE BACK PAGE! I screamed to no one in particular, startling old women and pigeons alike.  Now I know what some of you are thinking.  “Wow, is he good or what?”  But the fact of that matter is, I’m not that good.  I had little help.  You see the week before I slipped into The Back Page by myself for the proverbial forbidden fruit…some Buffalo wings and Budweiser.  On my way out the door I said goodbye to Rich.  To which Rich says “So I guess you guys are coming here next Wednesday, I’ll see you then…Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have told you that.”  I assured him that as a committee member I was sworn to secrecy.


It was such a secret that I forgot about it myself until that moment of clarity on the 72nd street transverse.  I guess that’s what turning 40 does to your mind.  I worked my way over to the Bethesda fountain and picked up the trail past the boat pond.  From there it was a quick jaunt over to The Back Page.  It’s amazing how well you can hash when you already know where you’re going.


The on-in was your usual Back Page affair, with the aforementioned Rich behind the bar and pitchers of water and beer flowing smoothly.  While the wings and fries were being set up, JMs HUA and Got Wood began the down-downs.  (Now remember…at this point, I’ve no idea that I’m the scribe).


Hares Jesse and Karen got their just reward for setting a very un-Jesse like trail…meaning it was good.  There was a gaggle of visitors and virgins who got theirs too.  Next came Young Jonh.  Can’t remember exactly what his infraction was, but it had something to do with being a skinhead or member of the KKK (Did Got Wood just notice Young Jonh shaves his head?).  I also seem to recall Young Jonh getting a new hash name, but again, at this point I’m not really paying attention because, well, I’m not the scribe…not yet.


Unless I heard wrong, Young Jonh will now be known as Boy Slave?  I guess He Hate Bush was already taken?


New Lisa (if you have to ask who Old Lisa was, then you probably haven’t been hashing for very long) was reprimanded for an ATM violation.  No, not for stopping at an ATM but for an Ann Taylor Moment…shopping on trail.


Wyeth (sp?) was punished for leaving our fair city and buggering off back to Nashvegas for school.  Something about Animal Husbandry?  I don’t recall exactly because at about this time…


“Mean Jean came up to me and said, “You’re doing the write up tonight, right?”  All of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.  “Shit, that’s right.  I vaguely recall telling MJ I would do this week’s write-up.  What was I thinking?  I must have been drunk.””


Virgin Sarah got a down-down for trawling for young boys in the bar.  Not sure anyone can blame her…isn’t that why most of us you hash?  I think the problem is she was trawling for young boys that weren’t with us.


American Tri-Ralph #6 got one for unprecedented Magooism.  Not sure I followed this one but I think Dave was standing on a mark calling “Are We?”…at least that’s the way I remember it.


Next came a down-down for Slow-to-Blow.  Where do I start with this one?  You’d think that if you had been training for six (6) months for arguably the biggest race of your life, you’d have read the instructions.  STB participated (notice I didn’t say finished) in the Iron Man Triathlon in Lake Placid the weekend before.  He was hauled off the bike portion of the course for missing the time cut-off.  For those of you who don’t know (and apparently STB was one of them), triathlons typically have time cut-offs for each stage of the race.  If you don’t make the time cut-off for a section, you can’t continue on to the next stage.


In Mike’s defense, he did have a couple of minor mechanical problems with the bike, but nothing that would have kept him from finishing in time.  I believe he was so set on taking it easy on the bike and saving himself for the marathon (hell, he stopped and sat on the side of the road to each a sandwich) that he took it too easy and got pulled off the course.  For that…he got AOTW and plenty of good-natured ribbing.


For those of you who thought that AOTW was the end of down-downs wait…there’s more.


Dave Long was hauled up before the assembled masses and reinstated as JM.  Jason is stepping down as JM ostensibly to concentrate on other interests.  Will whomever picked 37 days in the HOW SOON AFTER JASON’S WEDDING WILL HE RESIGN AS JM, OF HIS OWN VOLITION (WINK WINK) contest please see me.  You’ve won the $432 pot.


Jason has had a tremendous impact on the hash since he joined the committee, some of it even good.  If nothing else, the T-shirts got better.  He will be sorely missed, although not enough since he’s not actually going anywhere.  Nevertheless we thank him for his tireless service in a variety of rolls on the NYCH3 Committee.


And finally there’s Jesse.  Young Jesse joined us in January of 2001 and we haven’t been able to shake him since.  As you may know, Jesse is going to B-School at Vanderbilt University in Nashville.  Hey, wait a minute…scrolling up…scrolling up.  Yes, there it is: “Wyeth (sp?) was punished for leaving our fair city and buggering off back to Nashvegas for school.  Something about Animal Husbandry?  I don’t recall exactly because at about this time…”  Coincidence? I think not.  Just one question…does that make Jesse the Animal, or the Husband?