[Good Morrow, One and All. It's abs-sole-glute-lee Positivity Wednesday,
and today's good chemistry is kicking in like alchemy used to during my
time. Back in my Middle Ages, we didn't have banks or toxic mortgages or
foreclosures, no. We had sorcerers and sorcerers' apprentices. All the
apprentice wizened sages used to carry their motherloads of base metal up
long winding staircases to those dark topmost tower rooms of the citadel to
locate their sorcerers (none of whom, it seems, could ever tolerate working
their magic on lower floors) who then--tra-la, tra-lee---simply turned it
all into gold. Poof! I know. I was the custodian hired to sweep up the
citadel. Which brings us to today's magician. He is Herb Hedgecock--who
lately had a birthday (tra-la, tra-lee) but before that had a wedding (like,
wowie wow)!! He married a wonderful bride who is so blasted young, she has
no freaking idea what went on during his Middle Ages. But I do, of course,
because I was apprenticed to him. I, along with Say-rah Tynes, had enrolled
in his magic class, and he then instructed us mysteriously well through one
full loop of the Barkley Marathons--which took, of course, one whole
semester to complete.
You can find him here:
(Scroll down until you reach his name) and you can read his medieval
accounting of his alchemy here:
And naturally he's conjured up his very own webpage:
And here is what he looks like:
Morehead's Assistant Professor of Chemistry and Ultrarunner of some
noteworthy note troubly deserves today's "treatment" as TMIMITW, ya think?]
His teaching abilities are very well known. At a time when most college
kids flunk out to start up social networking websites and become
billionaires, his undergrad chemistry classes now boast five Fulbright and
several dozen Roads Scholars.
His ultrarunning abilities are also well known and documented. In 2002 he
double-footedly covered almost more miles of Tennessee's Last Annual
Vol-State 262-mile road race than almost everyone else in the field. He
inspired legions of followers who attempted this later. Well, he inspired
at least one.
He is known the world over as the author of "Redneck Wisdom For The Day," a
clever near-daily hillbilly-wisecracking ditty that predated Larry the Cable
Guy, and no doubt inspired him too.
He has a marvelous and peculiar hands-on-in-the-woods-ok-call-it-a-jungle
pedagogy. He leads his pupils out into it, scoops up examples of indigenous
flora and fauna--including shivering salamanders--and expects them not to
eat any of it, starving though they always are. He teaches by example,
which explains why he's so skinny.
He routinely pauses also to scoop up coins during his daily runs. One year
he found enough coin of the realm to have the drawbridge to his citadel
replaced with a hamster-in-a-wheel-powered swing bridge. Another year
earned him so much moolah that he was able to replace the whole citadel and
move into an apartment with his ladylove like normal people.
He had had the misfortune of previously being ball-and-chained to a goat
farmer, and he was expected--in addition to teaching his full load of
alchemy classes--to raise all the goats. But he brilliantly capitalized on
this exhausting prospect by chopping off their heads, floating them in soup,
taking their pictures, and selling them to the Rolling Stones.
Race directing is also something he's attempted and mastered. He has
somehow successfully pulled off about a dozen KUTS and a half-dozen Arches
(Kentucky Ultra Trail Sojourn and Kentucky Arches Run, respectively). All
the women kissed him at every finish line, which explains why his new bride
has put the kybosh on his Arches and KUTS.
It was rumored, although never confirmed, that the secret to his running
success was painting his toenails. Metal-flake shades--such as those used
to paint race cars--always seemed to work best. Again, all the hottest
babes from both Arches and KUTS--after their kiss--used to pull out their
makeup kits and beg him to pull off his shoes and socks.
He got married to his beautiful new bride high up in the Colorado
Rockies--perhaps near Leadville, now Golden--far, far away from any more
cosmetics, drug stores, castles, drawbridges, college chem classes, or other
hot babes. And his personal happiness level of ecstasy has been levitating
off the charts ever since.
He is THE MOST INTERESTING MAN IN THE WORLD.
"I don't always turn lead into gold; but when I do, I prefer no Yankees be
in my classroom. Stay wise, my friends."
( 00 )
See (and hear) some originals:
[and thanks to UltraJohn Price--himself something of a Roads Scholar--for
supplying this in place of that former long and always-broken hyperlink].
("your fiendly French mid-evil lute-and-other-parts-plucker who remembers
...was taken from the freshly dead body of St. Anthony himself, some 780
Yankee Folly of the Day:
"Patron Saint of Lost Causes" indeed! No wonder St. Tony's "relic" was
located in--and stolen from--some church in Californication. It's
Schwarzenegger's habitat, no? And doesn't HE need a little extra
pawnbroker's cash right about now?