NYCH3 August 9, 2000 (Run #844)

Hares: Melissa Schimke and Dave Long

Start: 77^th/Lexington Avenue

On In: Reif’s

Scribe: Christine Hinz

A bunch of posers, we were, standing outside of Lenox Hill Hospital. Waiting for the clock to strike 7:15ish, there was a new hash character, “The Cameraman,” who was filming our every move and utterance. Looking around, it seemed as if a self-consciousness had overcome the group. Suddenly, Pat Cuff’s normal pre-hash stretch looked rehearsed, as did co-hares’ Melissa and Dave’s standard speech to the Virgins. Ah well, nothing that a good run and a beer wouldn’t cure.

The run took off, as one might imagine, towards Central Park. We looped around just a bit, before coming to a spot on the very chi-chi Madison Avenue, where the aforementioned Cameraman was waiting to record us as we solved the first check. It was a strange dynamic, this filming and not being sure whether ignore it or not. Who was this guy, anyway? Rumor had it that he was doing a news segment for FOX TV. Then I overheard that he was an academy-award winning filmmaker who was shooting hashes around the world for a new documentary. With thoughts of possible fame or infamy flashing in my head (I’d take either), I got ready for my close-up and started practicing what I might say if I were actually interviewed.

Running through Central Park, I took several risks in following John Burke through various short cuts. His theory was that any old Joe that was running in the Park was a hasher. It seemed ridiculous, but his hypothesis was working out quite well until we faltered a bit and the rest of the pack caught up to us near the Metropolitan Museum. That’s when I lost John and hung with Debbie as we made our way over to John Jay Park on the East Side.

For some strange reason, at John Jay, a pack of about 15 hashers stood swearing that they looked everywhere but couldn’t find the trail. Everywhere, except for the obvious footbridge over the FDR, that is. I realize only now that the group was probably looking to mug more for The Cameraman, who stood along with them with that little red light on his video camera aglow. Looking for the trail, the pack trailed Deb and I as we walked in an intense “girl talking” session, completely oblivious to others and the fact that we were getting further away from the possibility of being on trail.

That’s when I ran down the FDR, past some very shady characters (no, not hashers, the really shady ones that smell worse than we do on a hot summer night), and then hung a left at 79^th Street, hoping to find the trail on York Avenue. No luck, so I proceeded back to First Avenue, where I found Lesley, and we decided that the trail had to go north, since that’s where Dave lived. As we ran, we picked up a new straggler every half-block or so who included Junior, Steve and Sucks-After-Dark. Before we knew it, we were a pack seven strong and later, and as we picked up the trail near the on-in at Reif’s, we merged with another group of about ten or so who were mingling in front of another bar on First Avenue. I guess they hoped that if they stood there long enough, they could turn it into the on-in by sheer wishful thinking.

Reif’s felt crowded, and we had become a sweaty batch of posers by then. As we cooled off, water and beer was drunk in buckets, all to our own benefit and to that of The Cameraman. Pizza arrived before down-downs, but when we finally got to them, they were given to Dave and Melissa for haring and to David Byron Brown for finally re-emerging after setting what was the first real contender for WTOTY -- many, many weeks ago. Sarah got the bunny ears for thinking she was the first in, while Virgins Rob, Sadie, Todd, Owen, Annie, Giles and Mike were saluted along with Visitors Salt Water Taffy (Carolyn) from New Jersey (by way of California) and (No?) Grappa from Milan. Virgins Sadie, Owen and Giles were called up again for looking like pirates (I guess they were all dressed up to watch the latest installment of Survivor), while Rick and Michele got down-downs for a lover’s quarrel.

Then the moment of glory came for The Cameraman as he won the AOTW Award. Incredibly, it turns out that all the hashing footage is for his personal and private viewing pleasure. Suddenly, thoughts of the film Sex, Lies and Videotape and home videos of Pamela and Tommy Lee came to mind. How creepy. (Who approved this?) Hence forth, there would be no more gushing for the camera on my part, that was for sure.

As the night continued, people got pretty worked up about Heather’s write up from last week. I guess there are a number of Conservatives in the crowd who just didn’t appreciate her commentary on George “Dubya” and the Republican National Convention. In fairness, I’ve allowed one particularly outspoken Republican to offer a 300-word rebuttal, which appears, completely and unabridged, in the box below:

Yep folks, there you have it, just another prime example of a Republican not coming through on his promise (Read my lips…). As you can see, it seems that instead of having a real political debate in such an esteemed forum as the Hash Flash, or whatever this write-up rag is called, our GOP-man would prefer to toss down beers, jump around and sing air-guitar to Kiss songs (no joke), and laugh rather loudly and derisively at virgin-guy Owen as he fell into the wall at Reif’s. (Well, that was pretty funny…I mean, it wasn’t like the wall came out to greet him or anything, he just kind of smashed right into it, and it was behind a couch no less).

As the night wore on, I had to get up early for an interview and left merrymakers Crofty, Crazy Bob, Junior, Dave Long and some other unusual suspects holding up the bar at some time close to one in the morning. Too bad The Cameraman had long since left as it started to look like he might have had the opportunity to get some perfect Wild Kingdom shots -- Banshees on the Eastern Plain kind of stuff, if you know what I mean. ;-) On-out.