Last month, a reporter named Olivia Wakim from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution newspaper joined us for a hike (read about it here). An official AJC shutterbug snapped pictures of our motley crew, then we ate barbecue and had a blast. Olivia wrote an excellent feature article for this Sunday's AJC "fat paper" edition. Of course, it will exist forever online or until someone crashes the internet (we're watching you, Elon, Beyoncé, and Zuck).
Trailheads will become minor celebrities overnight for their adventures in hiking, eating, and selling merch to benefit Chattahoochee National Park Conservancy (get yours here). And things could get hairy fast. Throngs of adoring masses will want to join our group, but we encourage them to start their own crew because we're a prickly bunch. Learn how to be a Trailhead here. It's as easy as falling off a log. What were you doing on a log anyway?
Trail Master Guy called off Thursday's hike due to a spritz of rain and gentle breezes. Ordinarily, he demands we hike-- even in hurricane conditions, and we cry like children in protest until he gives up on the boneheaded idea. Is he getting soft? Did Fio want to sleep in?
With our hike canceled, the guys scheduled a sushi lunch at Wa Ga Ya Japanese Cuisine & Sushi Bar in Emory Village. You'll usually find us on rainouts here or at Tomo in Buckhead (where our favorite server, Mei, berates us through the entire meal. We love it. You will too. Ask for her).
Even though we have built our brand on eating barbecue––our tagline is "On the path to truth and barbecue"––we might get caught eating raw fish in public. As we say in the marketing trade, this is "way off-brand." The paparazzi would have a field day with our erratic behavior. Fortunately, there was no mob of snoopy shooters as our line of long black limos pulled up to the sushi palace dropping off each member of the illustrious Trailheads crew.
George couldn't make our lunch because he said he "wasn't feeling well." We suspect he was home working with our publicist, doing Zoom calls with various worldwide news organizations while negotiating Trailheads movie deals (which one of us would Brad or Larry want to play?)
Steve arrived at lunch with servants who rolled out a red carpet before he entered the restaurant. When did he get servants? Was Steve putting on airs? It seems Indiana's favorite son has big britches now. "I'm gonna be in the newspaper, baby!" he crowed. "Bow and scrape, you bunch of nobodies!"
Roy now has "people" who field questions for him and relay requests for conversation. It made for an awkward and cumbersome lunch chat as his people had to constantly "get back with us on that." (We should probably get "people" to field the calls from his people.)
Guy arrived with his new stylists, who spritzed his coif with product and did his makeup as a manicurist worked on grooming his cuticles.
Brad arrived with a butler who waited by the kitchen and placed his ramen and sushi meal on sterling silver trays. The chap's name is Chauncy, and he wears a tux with tails. Chauncy is terribly polite and calls people "sir" or "madame" in his lilting English accent. Classy!
And Patrick now rolls with two bodyguards (Jeff & Joe) who clear his path. He said the musclemen's job is to brush away eager arms seeking his autograph (that he's sure will soon be sold on eBay for $187,416.35). Ohio's own did not succumb to raw fish, though. He likes his bait cooked. And according to the restaurant's menu more people in Japan eat curry than sushi. So there. Cooking rules.
There was all this hoopla and hub-bub and the story has only appeared in the AJC online edition. What will happen once this feature article hits the newsstands, sandwiched somewhere between the front page and the funny pages? Will groupies come out of the woodwork? Will the Traiheads start wearing disguises? Will body doubles become the norm for the lads? A nation worries itself sick.
