Real Men/Women of Genius #26

 

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Real men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Experienced New Trails Explorer With Your Sister-In-Law.

{Mis-ter Let’s-go-to-the-can-yons-to-day and bring no waaaaa-ter!}

It’s well over one hundred degrees, but you’re cool. You have done this before, and your adoring young in-law looks up to you. So you decide to show her what you’re made of. You’ll take her out for a good time in the desert, run a marathon before lunchtime, and show her how fast you *really* are–which ought to make her idolize you even more.

{“Doannnnnnnnnn-cha think we should car-ry a can-teen?”}

It’s good for a young runner, you think, to learn how to navigate. So you drive her to a trailhead that nobody knows, in a place where nobody’s been, onto a trail you can’t hardly see, and then take off. Once in awhile it occurs to you to look back and check if she’s still behind you. In your wisdom, you know this is good training.

{“Heyyyyyyyyy! Waaaaaaaaaait up for meeeeeeeeeee!”}

You decide to practice “The Barkley Courtesy.” That’s where totally clueless runners following behind are counting on you to lead them through one full loop of the woods so that they won’t die, and then you drop ’em like a toothless Tennessee date.

{“I haaaaaaave to uuuuuuuuuse the baaaaaaath-roooooooooom!”}

It’s important that you go on ahead. To blaze new trail. To prepare the way for whenever your diarrhea-afflicted running partner finishes finding more leaves. “She’ll see the trail,” you tell yourself, even though you yourself haven’t seen any trail for the past ten hours.

{Maaaaaaaaaaaay-be you should-a tuuuuuuurned left back there?}

No need to panic. You both know how to drink from streams and barbeque armadillo. Maybe after two days you might start to think you might start to panic, but no. You, Mister Daniel Boone, are the famous ultrarunning brother-in-law. You *know* trails. So when you finally do bushwhack your way out to a highway, you are mildly surprised to find the sheriff there. And you are totally surprised when he arrests you.

{“Hey!! Whudderdeeeeeeeeeeeze HAND-CUFFS for?”}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, O Big Brother In Charge Of Route-Finding Today, just as soon as some other family member posts your bail. Because only you knew where the trail was, and the wife of this guy now screaming in your face should have kept up. But now you have an even bigger problem: trying to actually prove you’re innocent until proven guilty, and your arraignment before the grand jury could be as early as next week.

{Mis-ter Experi-enced New Trails Ex-plor-er With Your Sister-In-Law!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where it’s made; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
First time I ever followed my favemost north ‘burbs running heroine up in Wisconsin along the Ice Age Trail? She dropped me like a Tennessee date.