Cacophony 1999 Marathon Rest Stop
Motivational message 
reinforced with beer.
Fishing pole technique 
Fishing pole technique in use
Malt liquor hand-off 
caught on film!
Fishing poles, we learned, are good for dangling donuts, pork rinds, and packs of cigarettes within runners' reach. In fact we managed to seduce quite a lot of health freaks off the straight and narrow, unloading several packs of donuts and thousands of calories on the runners. Much to our surprise, we also gave six packs of malt liquor in to-go cups. That and the pre-lighted cigarettes (redubbed "sport smokes") were highlights.  (Photos by Psychocats.)

Marathon Debriefing
by Grammarian

Compassionate concern for our fellows called us to wonder: Does anyone have a rest stop at the L.A.  Marathon?  Do the runners who are tired have a chance to rest, have a beer and a cigarette, and reconsider their lifestyle choices?  The answer, sadly, was no.

So we decided to put up an official rest stop of our own, without going through all that paperwork of getting a permit and a liquor license.  Along with information about when and where to meet, we put a this note in our flier to alert Cacophonists around Los Angeles of our plans:

Fitness is a virtue--theoretically--as is getting up early on Sunday.  Be an athletic supporter--encourage the runners in the LA Marathon to stop at the official Cacophony rest stop.  Bring extra chairs, cigarettes, cigars, malt liquor, pork rinds, cheeseburgers and other homey and comfy items to aid the weary, corporate-sponsored marathoners take a load off.  Got sign making material? Encouraging words, such as "Free Donuts," "Just Stop" and "Why Try?" should help keep up the pace.  Some people just don't get it, and we may be the ones.  Run in circles and cheer on your favorites while LA's cleanest and leanest race by without so much as stopping to snarf one bag of potato chips.  You have to get up pretty early in the morning to enjoy civic boosterism at its healthiest.  Wear jogging suits, or robe and slippers.  In all races, death is the swiftest.

An unhealthy crowd showed up, despite the early hour, dressed in bathrobes and doggy slippers, some of which humped each other.  Others were in jogging suits.  All wore morning hair.  Grammarian supplied official-looking number sheets and safety pins so that we could boast such winning figures as "I8¹," "I69," and "323," LA's then-most-recent new area code.  Rev. Al made some cool signs, including "The Lard Is My Co-Pilot" and "Asthma Achievers."  The assembled Cacophonists, by a coincidence resulting from lack of planning, generally brought donuts.  We stood by the side of the road offering donuts, beer, and lit cigarettes, and before long we had a rather steady stream of takers.  Mr. Outer Space then noticed that our rest stop was in front of a stand of bamboo.  He cut down a piece, tied string to it, and then tied a donut to the string.  This made a much more effective donut delivery system, because the dazed runners could see the donuts dangling before their eyes without having to figure out: 1) there is a person in my way 2) that person is holding something 3) it is a donut 4) ha ha.  In many cases, the runners had passed by without getting to the "ha ha" part, but the danglin' donuts changed all that!

The cops, who were constantly cruising by, were amused, although we did not distribute beer when they were around.