PRINCETON HHH HASH #487.4 

Date: January 1 , 1995
Weather: Salty
Venue: To Hell and Gone in fields, woods, and swamps surrounding Route 295 South
Time: 1:07
Set By: Toxic Waste
Hashers:  RoJo, Delay Lllama, Mark W., Geezer, In Up To His Waist, LRF, Wacko,
Wrong Way, The Madam, 242, Safe Sweats (repaired version), Mr. Fluffy
First to Cooler: Joe Burns

Our Hand Has Never Lost Its Skill

Description, polemics, comments and lies: Who even heard of Toxic Waste? Can
someone so long separated from the hashing trails really set a decent run? So
ran the thoughts - and words - of many of the younger members of this New YearŐs
group. Leaving aside the appropriateness of such comments from this pack, most
of whom couldnŐt set a table, let alone a hash, a few of the veterans were seen
to smile wryly at such a comment. Now, what are the essential elements of a good
hash? To be sure, a few marks would be useful, and swamps, railroad tracks, and
thorns are thought by some to be essential. Gunshots are surely nice, strange
dead creatures are always fun, and there should be someone who gets lost. Weird
machinery of no obvious use is a tradition on the best hashes. We got it all in
the hour or so after Toxic started us off in the FedEx building off Route 295
South (which, of course runs more or less North). It was the Geezer who spotted
the headless turkey on the tracks. Consider how a headless turkey comes to
reside on the Amtrak right of way. There seemed no possible explanation until
RoJo spotted the suicide note. This time of year is always tough on turkeys and
this one had been deranged (or perhaps freeranged) by the demise of so many of
its kith and kin in recent weeks. The poor bird had gone round the bend shortly
before the NY-Philly cannonball did the same only to encounter his leathery
neck. The plot thickened further when the LRF pointed out the pneumatic turkey
decapitator about 15 minutes later; whiz-klunk gobble gobble gobble was the
hideous sound it made. Soon the fragmented pack crossed a corn stubble field,
only to encounter a real live turkey in the form of the progeny of Farmer Brown.
The rat-child called its father, Farmer Brown himself, a foul-mouthed and sour
throwback, who had unaccountably been granted a license to breed by the state of
New Jersey. ŇGet the fuck offa my land, you assholes!Ó gently reasoned this fine
fellow. This was followed by several shots in the general direction of the pack,
now rapidly making its escape out the back of the field. A few more minutes
hashing across muddy streams and through deserted streets and minimalls and the
first, and so far the best, hash of 1995 was done.  Our 1995 Rookie of the Year,
242, was lost by this time. Sophomore slump?

Next Hashes:

#488.4	Sunday, January 8, 1995, 2 pm, Hand Solo, the winner of two straight 
                                       Setter of the Year Awards, tries to top
                                       Toxic Waste's opening effort. 
				       NOT TO BE MISSED!
#489.4	Sunday, January 15, 1995, 2 pm, LFBB sets
#490.4	Sunday, January 22, 1995, 2 pm, Geezer sets -- Dinner after
#491.4	Sunday, January 29, 1995, 2 pm, In Up to His Waste sets
#492.4	Sunday, February 5, 1995,  2 pm, Frank sets
#493.4	Sunday, February 12, 1995, 2 pm, Duncan sets the Third Annual Hard Core
Hash. There is still time to toughen up for this infamous event.