Feeling flat

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I’ll be a Hare next week.

One thing I respect and appreciate is a well-marked Hash trail. That wasn’t the case yesterday, but I’ll make sure people find something else to complain about when Swan and I mark next week’s trail. I was on the fence about doing the climb, but after seeing the lack of proper trail markings early on, I opted out when the trail headed for the hills. Instead, my sane followers joined me for a pleasant walk through the Naugsol Valley. Here, have a look for yourself:

Hashers gathering at the start.
You can make a useless mark like this, but can’t be bothered to indicate direction at the first intersection on the Hash trail?
And we are On-On!
Cums Alone bringing up the rear.
Heading down.
Demented Dickhead leading the slowpoke group.
Heading for the valley.
A brief light rain met us there.
And onward we marched.
The lowdown.
That damn goat photobombed my Easter Mountain shot.
There ain’t no stopping us.
A brief pause to pass out some sweets for these valley dwellers.
Making our way through a shanty town.
I reckon you could argue this qualifies as a climb.
It came with this view at the end.
Our journey was just over 6K long.

Hops and Brews was our On-Home venue for the first time. They seemed to enjoy our presence.

The open-air dining area at Hops and Brews filled with thirsty Hashers.
Hungry Hashers, too. One of the nice aspect of Hops and Brews is their excellent food options.
A grouchy old fucker.
Smiling Hash Gash.
Time to Circle up!
The Hares, Vienna Sausage and Almoranus, on ice.
Vienna Sausage was awarded the Hashit for his efforts.

Then it was on to the usual after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.

I was treated to some peanuts in the shell. It had been a long time since I’d cracked open a peanut. It reminded me of those long-ago days when you could litter the bar floor with empty shells. The waitress made it clear that wasn’t an option last night.
The view from my table at It Doesn’t Matter.

Swan spent much of the after-Hash indoors playing pool with one of the waitresses. It’s cool to see she has some passion for improving her game. I’ll give her a chance to beat me when we go out tonight.

From Facebook memories, a reminder of the time when my life had meaning and purpose:

Ten years ago, Uncle Sam paid me a good salary to keep the 8th Army civilian workforce functional.

It’s the first of July 2023 in the LTG archives, and I discover “To Live Is To Fly.” Well, I heard the song for the first time during my morning hike. The epiphany came later that night: “Sitting there I recalled that living without drama is a proactive effort. If I let the little shit disappointments trigger me, happiness will remain elusive.” Life’s lessons come to me slowly sometimes, but it was good to take that step forward at last.

Today’s YouTube video is one of those memory quizzes. I missed ten, but given the sorry state of my brain these days, that ain’t bad. See how you do—but I expect that if you’re under 40, most of these will be unfamiliar to you.

These never get old, do they?

He has a way with words.
I doubt a cognitive minimalist would get the insult.
A perfect couple. They were made for each other. May those years of misery together continue endlessly.

And now you know.

The number one hit of 1983 is a song I still enjoy hearing today and probably will until I stop breathing.

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