Gum and Dumb

Meeting a girl when she is in the 9th grade is a problem. Especially when you are 19 years old.  Probably not anymore, but then they had a saying "you could go to jail for that".  So I decided to try my luck in the big market. One of the things that has always bugged me is women who chew gum. Somehow after several tries and several of these set up deals from friends I seemed to have succeeded in finding every gum smacking floozy that lived in our city.  One in particular, (I do not remember the name) had this way of chewing in a way that resulted in an audible pop every 20 seconds or so even though it was not bubble gum.  Brains also seemed to be part of the issue. I do remember the deepest discussion I ever had with all the members of the gum smacking club was about how I liked the way the drummer in a group named Chicago played the drums. (I was not sure I had an opinion on this)

Another thing of  that day was that Hippies were getting to be a growing problem.  For any young person who might read this and not know what Hippies are, here it is. They were people with long hair, goofy glasses, dirty feet and glazed over eyes.  They also would go to places and listen to music sitting in the mud.  So as I thought about it I did not like gum smackers, I did not like Hippies, but I did remember someone kind of interesting from a few years ago and perhaps I might call her.

One little bit of advice to younger readers. When you meet someone you like it is a good idea to get the name and number.  All I could remember is that her last name started with Ver and I remember is that her dad was in the funeral business and she went to a church in Detroit.  So I got a copy of the Detroit Yellow pages and found a funeral home.  It had a nice picture in the add of a building and the name was VerHeyden Funeral Home. I dialed the phone and I asked to speak to Mister VerHeyden.  I asked him if by chance he had two daughters that were reasonably attractive.  (I remember that Deb had a sister that did not look bad either.)

VerHeyden told me that he did not, but that he knew what I might be looking for. He said that Jim Vermeulen had two very nice looking and classy daughters.  But the name of his funeral home was Perry's and it was in downtown Detroit.  I was smart enough even at that time to not call her father for a date with his daughter. Instead I looked up the Vermeulen name in the book and called it and the next thing I knew I had the person who I  had met two years ago on the phone line. What ensued is one of the most interesting conversations I had ever had.  I will tell a little more about that but for now I will let this post stand. 

Stan the Man