Remembering Caurmen (Hugh Hancock) (10)
Before I post my “How To Buy a Click Once and Re-Sell It a Thousand Times series of articles leading up to the contest, I wanted to share the most important thing that happened to me because of STM, my one time meeting with Caurmen, Hugh Hancock. This is something I’ve wanted to write for a long time, and I thought right now was especially appropriate.
If you look at the "top thanked" section, you will see Caurmen is still at the very top, and there is a reason for it.
Remembering Hugh Hancock
I don’t remember how it happened.
All I know was it did.
It was 2014 and I was just starting to post about opt in email, list building, buying a click once and selling it a thousand times, list segmentation and other such marketing topics on STM. Somewhere, someone on the forum made a comment about philosophy and whisky, we both replied, and Hugh and I discovered we had something very much in common- a taste for fine whisky, and the philosophy that goes along with it.
It has been said, rightly, that all writers have a complicated relationship with whisky- luckily the complexity for both Hugh and I gravitated towards the high end, quality over quantity (the opposite of, say, the great Charles Bukowski). Perhaps it was because we were both marketers writing more for money than for story telling (while secretly wanting to write more for story telling than for money), perhaps we just had good taste. Whatever the reason, we bonded over fine whisky, and made a promise to drink together when we met in London for STM 2015.
The event went off beautifully. I met Hugh in person when I checked into the Club Quarters Hotel (Cmdeal, I believe you were right behind us), we quickly reaffirmed our pact to drink fine whisky in London, then it was all business.
Hugh was the MC of the event, and a consummate professional. He told me I had exactly 12 minutes to deliver my speech and get the hell off of his stage or he’d kick me off. I did it in 11 minutes and 57 seconds, nailing it perfectly and energizing the crowd. Hugh ran the event like clockwork, gave his speech, gave out the awards, and ended right on time. The man knew his stuff (as you can see).
We almost didn’t get to do it. I lost track of him, he lost track of me, I was tired, he was tired. But something told me to get on Facebook, hit him up by chat, see if he was around. Sure enough he was, and we both agreed the pact was unbreakable.
I’m from Austin, Texas, known for excellent BBQ, and when Hugh suggested we go to a British BBQ place called the Pitt Cue Company I was more than a little curious. I checked their website, and almost fell over when I saw their bourbon menu. Hugh and I were both Scotch men, but I’d recently gotten into bourbon, and the deal we’d made was he’d take me to a Malt Room (he was a card carrying member of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society), I’d find him some fine bourbon. But I did NOT think we’d find a place that had the best bourbon in the world, a place with the Buffalo Trace Antique Collection at a VERY reasonable rate. Some things are just meant to be.
Zeno joined us on the walk over, but couldn’t stay for more than one drink, so it was just Hugh, me and a very appreciative bartender. I told Hugh he was about to be spoiled, and that all bourbon was NOT as good as we were about to have. With that warning in mind, we had Eagle Rare 17, Pappy Van Winkle 15, and William LaRue Weller, with the tab less than $100. And the British BBQ was quite respectable.
I’d held up my end of the bargain, he was determined to hold up his. So we caught the Tube, got off at the station close to the Malt Room and followed the map on his phone (which had about 10 min of battery left). We walked through several dark alleys, and just as I was convinced that Jack the Ripper was about to leap out, we stepped out of an alley and there it was, the Malt Room right to our left, exactly where the map said it was. If Jack was anywhere, he was upstairs drinking, and we’d be happy to join him.
I’d never been to a Malt Room before, but the way it works is the bottles are labeled with tasting notes only. They do NOT tell you the brand or the expression until AFTER you’ve tasted it. You tell them the tasting notes, they find them and pour them. The magic is in the discovery.
The bartender was a cute, smart French girl and I told her straight up, “Let me guess, the thing you HATE most is some loudmouth coming in and asking for a MacAllan.” Her eyes got wide, she laughed, and said, “you are sooooo right.” I told her I’d make her night, and to pick out something for a discerning man such as myself, something unusual. Hugh told her to pour the peatiest thing she had, something that was like “licking a piece of coal.” She got mine right, but Hugh, true to his nature was not quite satisfied with his first one- not peaty enough. So she brought out something truly evil, his eyes widened in turn and he said it was exactly what he wanted. I could almost taste the peat from two feet away.
Mine turned out to be a Lowlands, a Bladnoch, I believe, and I had another. So did Hugh, another slab of coal. It was as evil as the first, something Jack would drink and appreciate. We hung out, talked, drank, told stories, talked about shows, and music, and movies, and women, just like friends do. Closing time came around, the bartender shooed us out, and we stumbled out of the Malt Room. If Jack was around, he stayed behind.
Hugh had managed to charge his phone a bit, and his map showed us within walking distance of the final STM after party, so we slowly headed that way. Neither of us wanted the night to end. As we strolled along taking in the late London night, Hugh suddenly started laughing. He turned to me, pointed to the two (drunk) guys staggering ahead of us (we were simply strolling) and said, “That was the most British conversation I have EVER heard. They were arguing about who drank the most pints, and who won at darts.” It was culture at its finest.
As we got closer to the bar where we would part, Hugh grabbed my shoulder and said “turn around.” I did, and behind us, looming in the dark with an ethereal blue glow was St. Paul’s Cathedral. I had no idea anything that big could sneak up on anyone so quietly, but it did. It felt symbolic of the night, in a way, something quiet, yet something big and everlasting, something real. I took several photos with a bad cell phone camera, and they are posted below. Clearly they don’t do it justice, but they did capture the exact time, the exact place, the exact moment. It felt like Hugh and I had been friends forever.
We reached the bar, shook hands, said our goodbyes and promised to meet up again soon for more whisky, more fine food, and more stories about shows, making money, movies, music and women. He disappeared into the bar, and I started talking to a woman outside. I like talking to women.
I never saw him again.
When I heard Hugh passed away last year I took it hard. Really hard. It felt like an old, long time friend had died, and he had. Hugh and I only met once, only drank whisky together once, only told stories in person once. But it felt like I’d known him a lifetime, and perhaps St. Paul’s Cathedral looming over us in the dark that night was an omen. Not a bad one, but an omen that Hugh would always be with us, looming over us, sure and steady, a good, evil peated Scotch in hand.
And I surely believe that he is.
So, I’ll let this remembrance sit over the weekend, and perhaps you have one to share as well. On Monday we’ll get started on the hard core marketing. I always wanted to write this about Hugh, to an audience that would appreciate it.
Beautiful story John, I felt like I was there with you both! I'm pretty new around STM and have been following Vortex's 40 day like mad, running campaigns as fast as possible and trying to learn everything I possibly can in the shortest time possible. I recently stumbled across Hugh's thread about bot detection (among so many other great threads of his) and was so excited about it, then I stumbled across another thread discussing Hugh's passing. I couldn't believe it.
Here were are over a year after his passing and he's teaching me how to improve my campaigns and kick ass at AM. I can just tell from everything he's written that he was a really awesome guy. So glad that you were able to spend time with him and share that night with us here.
Cheers to you both.
I guess now we wait until someone makes really powerful AI machine able to analyse all his posts and replicate his personality? Not actually kidding, who knows how long from now that might be possible.
But Hugh really was amazing guy, i think he was close to or genius as can be seen from wide areas of his interests. Its a big loss for everyone in AM community
Although I've already read your draft, I couldn't resist reading this a second time.
Hugh is indeed a very memorable person. I haven't spent a lot of him with him in person, but he'll always occupy a very special place in my heart. That's the effect he has on people.
Thanks for sharing your fond memories of him John!
(I can't refer to him in the past tense, because the soul never dies and to me, he still exists.)
Amy
@John, I was smiling whilst reading your story.
So warm, so Hugh.
He was such an amazing person!
This post describes him so well and brings up so many memories.
Thanks for sharing this heart touching story.
Everyday when I visit STM and I notice his username at the top, I can't believe he's gone.
I'm lucky I could talk to him at the same show in London and then later also in Bangkok.
He is a legend and I'm sure he will be remembered, he helped so many people over those years to achieve their dreams.
He was one of the most amazing guys on STM, rip.
Truely an amazing man, RIP.
Hard to believe that caurmen is no longer with us. We only met in person twice, I believe, but just like in your case John, I'm never going to forget about him.
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