Chapter 3: ZZ Top and IHOP

Chapter 3: ZZ Top and IHOP

High school had always been good to the both of us. Though we could have controlled the entire campus (what is there anyway), Matt and I decided to take things slow and let things develop and happen. We enjoyed each other and each other’s company. But it was not until after we graduated and headed our separate ways did JMH truly form into what it was going to become. The future was still out there. Life was ready for exploring…and we were ready to explore it with open arms.

Life is sometimes funny. Growing up during high school, you think you have everything figured out. You know it all and are sure of your life and what direction you are headed. Then you graduate, head out into the real world, and everything that you had thought was easy going is suddenly pulled out from underneath you and you feel as if you have just left your mother’s womb in the originality of your rebirth. Deep huh?

This is pretty much how my life started after high school. I went my separate way, while Matt went his. We stayed in touch for awhile, but as we both started college, things got a little tough and time got a little slim. We did meet up at McDonalds late at night after I got off work, but those meetings got less and less as Matt was transferred to the Centralia store because they needed a manager up there and Matt was going to school at Kaskaskia College, just up the street from the store he was working at. Both of us also were involved with our girlfriends at the time and both dealing with long distance relationships. Karen going to Cape Girardeau for school and my girlfriend at the time, Kim, was going off to Greenville College. I had started classes at Rend Lake College pursuing a degree in English with possible ideas for teaching. Matt was seeking out a degree in nursing interested in the lines of physical therapy. He was also very active in politics wanting to be more involved with local government.

It was during this time that Matt and I parted ways for a great deal of time. It had almost been a year and a half since we had gotten together to do any major activity. Sometimes it takes a horrible drastic event to pull people back together.

My girlfriend broke up with me. At the time I thought it was the end of the world. But that topic is not what this story is about. It is about how such a negative incident brought about a wonderful positive. I had purchased some concert tickets for that summer for my girlfriend and I to attend. We had gone to some concerts during our time together, mostly ones that she had picked out and wanted to go to. Michael Bolton and Bryan Adams are just to name a few. Anyway, I had decided that I had bowed to her tastes enough and had purchased some tickets to some of my styles of music. Expand her horizon a bit. Well, she broke up with me leaving me with pairs of tickets to numerous concerts. My first one was coming up quick…ZZ Top.

I had no one to go with. Besides not having that many people that I would even think about taking, I was pretty devastated by the fact that my girlfriend had dropped the hammer on me. Only one name came in mind. I picked up the phone and gave Matt a call.

“Hey what’s going on?” I started the conversation. Some people in order to keep a relationship going need to see an individual on a daily basis or at least speak with them every other day. With Matt and I, it was not that case. We could go days, weeks, even years without talking, then out of the blue pick up the phone and pick up where we left off. That is what was so wonderful about our friendship, it was that strong. This time was just proof of that statement.

After a few minutes of some casual conversation, I got to asking the question that mattered. “Hey, what are you doing next Saturday?”

“Working. Why?”

“Well, I have tickets to ZZ Top and an extra ticket. I was needing someone to go with and I was wondering if you would like to go. But since you have to work, I guess I’ll have to go ahead and find someone to sell the tickets to.”

“Wait a minute.” Matt definitely sounded interested. “I can pull a few strings and get the day off. How much do I owe you for the ticket?”

“Nothing. If you go with me you do not have to pay me anything for it. I just want to be able to go with someone that I know I will have a good time with. I am just glad that I could put the ticket to good use.”

“Alright. Call me later and then we will set up how we are going to get there.”

Thus the seeds for the development of JMH were sown. The sad thing, we were not going alone. When I had ordered tickets, several people that I worked with wanted to go as well so I was the middle man in ordering the tickets for everyone. I was one of the only people that possessed a credit card so I was just the easiest one to accomplish such a task. First, Brandon Petersen and his girlfriend were part of the group. Brandon was a short individual that pretty much laughed at anything. His laugh was one of the most original laughs you have ever heard in your life. It was sort of a mixture of Roscoe from the Dukes of Hazzard and a snorting pig laugh. It was enough to drive you crazy if you were around it long enough. As far as others that went, I know there were more, but those are the two individuals that stood out for me. The others, I am not sure exactly who they were. So many different people came to so many different concerts with Matt and I that summer.

I remember arriving to the concert. Matt drove his old black Ford Ranger because at the time I was not comfortable driving in down town St. Louis. Don’t get me wrong, I had done it before and quite well if I must say. But I was just not comfortable with all of those crazy people weaving in and out of traffic like I was standing still. I had already had four traffic tickets for speeding and was on court supervision in the three surrounding counties of where I lived. I had also been involved in three accidents, all of them pretty much being my fault.

The first I pulled out in front of a vehicle and he side swiped me. I still swear to this day that he was not there one minute and there the next. My fault though. I was ticketed and lost my good old 1986 Plymouth Duster for a good few months.

The second accident happened almost a few days after I got my Duster back. My girlfriend’s father had fixed my vehicle and it was so well done that you could not even tell that any damage had been done. I was driving on my way back from work when a dark blur shot towards my car from the corner of my eye. I hit my brakes the quickest that I could, but it was not fast enough. I hit it. Southern Illinois number one enemy to drivers besides those teenage drivers fresh from getting their license. Deer! It rolled off my hood and then sprinted into the field adjacent to the road. I stopped my car and looked at the damage. Sure enough, there was a huge dent in my beautiful new hood and some fresh deer hair imbedded in the fresh yellow paint job. I cursed the deer hoping he would come back for a rematch. He did not show.

The final accident involved me rear ending a car on the main drag in Mt. Vernon. I was hanging with a friend of mine Chris Edwards because Matt was going through his Karen only phase. We were heading to the St. Clair Shopping Mall so I could buy a new pair of cowboy boots when I noticed a car pull up next to me. I looked over to see my cousin Julie in the car. I waved at her and pointed out to Chris that my cousin was next to him. He nodded really thrilled about the information and then noted that the light was green. Without really paying attention to what was going on, I hit the gas hard instead of lightly and rammed into the car in front of me. It was an old tank of a truck and my small compact car completely slid under its tailgate causing my hood to crunch up into the air like an accordion. I jumped out furiously! Even though I really new it was my fault, I was yelling at the guy in front of me asking why the hell he hadn’t moved quicker. Chris tried to calm me down and we moved both vehicles off the road into the mall parking lot. I continued to curse and scream even as a Mt. Vernon police officer pulled up and began to take statements from the other driver and myself. Even though it was my fault, no damage was done to the tank of the vehicle I hit, so he did not issue any tickets. It was a miracle I was not hauled into jail for some of the words coming out of my mouth!

So that was why I did not like to drive in stressful situations if I could help it. Matt always volunteered to drive and he had insisted on it this time since I was not making him pay for the ticket. So there we were sitting in the parking lot waiting for the others to show so I could give them their tickets in order for them to gain access to the show. The billboard lit up the parking lot showing who was playing. “ZZ Top with Cry of Love.” ZZ Top had always been a favorite band of mine and Cry of Love had just released a couple of cool songs on the radio. It was destined to be a great show. That’s when our company pulled up. Like I said earlier, the only real person I remember going was Brandon and his girlfriend.

“Hey guys!” Brandon said coming up to Matt’s window chuckling in his annoying chuckle. “Are you guys pumped for the concert?”

Matt and I looked at each other. “You bet.” Matt said smiling.

Brandon then looked at the lit up billboard behind him. He read it out loud. “ZZ Top and City of Love! Whoooo! Here we come!”

City of Love? Matt and I did not have the heart to correct him. We just laughed at our own inside joke. To this day we still say that phrase out of the blue and laugh at it. People who are around us look are completely confused, but that is okay. Most of the time no one gets our jokes but us. And we love them!

“Let’s go.” I told Matt as we got out and went to hand out the tickets to everyone. Our seats were all together so we were forced to sit with everyone else. It really wasn’t that bad and ZZ Top put on an incredible show. I must admit, if you get a chance to see these guys in concert, do so. They have some wonderful special effects that will leave you puzzled and asking “How did they do that?” It was half music concert, half magic show. Definitely one of the best concerts I have ever been to, but sadly, I have never gotten the opportunity to see them again.

After the show, Matt and I were walking through the parking lot towards his truck. Brandon was behind us. As we got close to the break off area where he would go to his vehicle and we would go to ours, he yelled for us to come over. Matt and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. We approached him with a little caution.

“Awesome concert.” Brandon said.

“Yeah, pretty good.” I responded wondering if Brandon was expecting a kiss good night or something.

“Thanks for getting the tickets Jeremy. This is one night that I am not going to forget the rest of my life.”

I smiled. It was good to spread some goodness in the world. “No problem Brandon. Maybe we will go to another concert sometime,” little did I know that in the near future we would all venture out to another musical event and Brandon would stand out more than anyone else.

“Thought I’d give an option to repay you before we split up.” Brandon said reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small object and dropped it into the palm of his hand. He held it out for us to get a closer look. It was not what I expected my no means. It was the butt end to a joint!

“Uh…” Matt started to say not sure where this was going. Luckily Brandon took charge of the moment and stepped in.

“It is a join man!” He said in a corny Cheech and Chong impersonation. “I found it under the seats in front of us after the lights came back on. Would you guys like to have it?” I looked to Matt not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or simply run.

“No thanks man.” Matt said reaching out and physically closing the palm of Brandon’s hand. “You go ahead and keep it. You earned it.”

Brandon’s face lit up as though he had just won the lottery or something. “Thanks guys. You are the greatest!” With that, Brandon bounded away with his girlfriend, I am sure complaining about some aspect of the evening. I looked to Matt who was shaking his head in disbelief.

“What the heck was that?”

“Not sure.” I answered. “But I sure am glad I listened to those Just Say No speeches in grade school. Came in real handy tonight.”

Matt laughed. “Heck, all they need to do to lower the consumption of weed is to put Brandon on one of those posters that shows ‘This is your kid on drugs’. That would definitely take care of the problem.”

Matt and I left the parking lot of the concert that evening on a natural high. Both of us had gotten through high school using no illegal substances, not even smoking, or even drinking an alcoholic beverage. Not that we did not have the opportunities before us. Several of our acquaintances we had encounter during our high school years and early college years were users of all sorts of things. We just never fell into that category. Matt and I simply just got a natural high on enjoying life and having fun with what was going on around us. It was better to take home memories to remember, rather than take home a hangover for the next morning. Matt’s mom had often complemented us on our wise choices. She stated several times that she was glad Matt and I hung out together. Even though we were often out to the wee hours of the morning, she never had to worry about us out doing something stupid, illegal, or something that would get us arrested or killed. I am proud of the way we grew up and handled ourselves in these types of situations. To this day I brag whenever I can that I have never abused any such substance and never smoked anything, not even a cigarette. My high school students think it sounds crazy and unbelievable, but I tell them it is true. The only high you truly need is the high of life. And that is something that you never can run out of.

Matt and I headed to the interstate and back over into our homeland of Illinois. Coming up to St. Clair, we decided it was a good idea to pull over and get something to eat. Being around midnight even on a Saturday, there was not much open. We spotted an IHOP, International House of Pancakes, in the distance and knew they were open twenty four hours. We headed for the parking lot, parked his truck, and went inside to grub.

I remember sitting down and looking at the menu, not being able to make up my mind what direction to go. Should I have dinner style food or should I go all out and try some breakfast? I looked at Matt and he seemed to be having similar difficulties in selecting from his menu. We decided together, why fight it and have to pick. Wasn’t that being racist against a certain breed of food? We definitely did not want to be part of any segregational activities. We decided to order some food from both menus!

I remember ordering some sort of breakfast platter with pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Matt ordered the same and then got some side plate of spaghetti. I order an appetizer sampler filled with things such as jalapeño poppers and cheese sticks. Matt got upset and asked if he could have some of mine and I said he could. We topped it off with some drinks. I ordered a Coke while Matt ordered a Coke and a chocolate milk. The chocolate milk had to be brought out immediately before the food. The waitress came out with our drinks and Matt chugged the milk in a few gulps. This was a tradition for Matt in the years to come. Chocolate milk first. Then the meal with Coke.

We grubbed that night, we grubbed like we never grubbed before. It was fabulous too! I wonder to this day why the food was so great. Every time Matt and I stopped at that IHOP to try and recreate the goodness, we were never able to come close to the event. Was it the fact that JMH was just beginning and the excitement of the future was in the air? Or could it have been something else? Who knows, who really cares.

We ate until we were about to explode ending with the phrase we repeated numerous times later, “We’ll, I am pleasantly ill.” I remember looking at the graveyard of plates before us thinking how in the heck we ate all of it. And why in the heck we ate all of it. I think others in the restaurant were thinking the same thing, especially our waitress who kept glaring at us wide eyed in disbelief.

Completely full from gorging ourselves, Matt and I asked for our check. Our waitress kindly brought it over still giving us a strange look. We both thanked her, left a tip, and the got up to go to the front counter to pay for our meal. When we got there, several workers were gathered around the counter staring and pointing at the phone. Matt and I stood there for a moment waiting for someone to help us out. Finally, after a few minutes of nothing happening, Matt cleared his voice as a signal and the three ladies looked up.

“I am sorry.” One lady said reaching across the counter and taking both of our tickets. “How was everything?”

“Good.” Matt and I both said in unison.

Before the worker could make change, the telephone next to the counter rang. All three of the ladies jumped as if a snake had just hissed from the corner of the counter. One even let out a little scream as her hand went to her mouth. Matt and I were a little confused about what was going on. All three of the ladies just watched the phone, let it ring, and then waited until it stopped totally before any conversation started back up again.

“I wonder if that was HIM again?” One lady said. It was her stress on the word HIM that got my attention. Just what was going on here?

“Excuse me.” I said leaning over the counter, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Who is HIM?”

“We have been getting prank called all night.” One lady said abruptly. “I am the manager here and the only ones working this late are us three. The calls started just after the last guy cook left. We are all pretty freaked out!”

Matt looked at me and smiled. We were here now. Ready to play hero to a few damsels in distress. Two of them were pretty plain looking, but one of the waitresses was pretty hot. Since I did not have a girlfriend now, I was on the open market. I was going to step up and do my part to help out my fellow man, uh I mean woman.

“We can help you out,” I said trying to sound all brave and stuff. “The next time the phone rings, let me answer it. I’ll talk to him.”

The cute waitress looked at me and smiled. “You would really do that?”

For you of course, I thought about saying that. That would have been the cool thing to say all suave, but I was never really one for being smooth with the ladies. The only thing that came out of my mouth was a two syllable response. “Uh huh.”

As if on cue, the phone rang then. Matt tapped me on the shoulder as if in support. I looked at the manager who was nodding her head as if giving me her permission to pick up the phone. I grabbed the receiver and put it to my ear slowly not really sure what to expect.

“Hello?” I spoke clearly and softly.

Now, from here I do not remember the actual conversation that took place. Mind you that the actual event itself did take place over ten years ago. What I do remember is the basics that transpired during the conversation. Simple displays of heavy breathing and many obscene words were uttered to me over the phone. I even remember the guy telling me that he was going to do something really perverted to me, but I can not recall exactly what it was. I am not sure if this is from the fact that it has been over ten years or maybe I subliminally blocked it out because it was just too devastating of an experience for me to log away. Anyway, the gentleman on the other end of the line continued to go at it on the phone until I said hello. At that point he realized that he was not talking to one of the females on the other end, but a man. At this point he hung up rather quickly. I smiled and set the phone down.

“He hung up,” I announced. Everyone laughed. Then the phone rang again. I picked it up. Same thing. More heavy breathing. This was when I decided to try and put the fear of God into the individual on the other end of the line. I remember saying something about the phone call being traced and that the police would be at the location within a matter of minutes. With that the caller hung up once again. I placed the phone back on the cradle and announced the victory.

“Thank you very much.” One of the workers said. I could tell from the warmth on my face that I was blushing.

“Don’t mention it,” I said as I looked down at Matt and my check. Some part of me was hoping that they would be generous enough to go ahead and put our meal on the house. But the manager quickly grabbed the checks and totaled up our bills.

From there I remember paying and then walking out of the restaurant. I remember feeling a bit let down about the whole free food concept, but also remember riding on a simple high knowing that I rescued some damsels in distress. Going to the truck, Matt was patting me on the back telling me that the moment was classic. I was looking down as we walked towards his vehicle and we were passing a huge blue BFI dumpster. That’s when I saw it.

Sitting on the pavement in a puddle of what appeared to be vehicle oil was an onion ring. The ring was half gone and the remnants of what was there were tattered and blackened in color. Now normally this would not have been such a big deal and you the reader are probably asking what in the heck am I including a tale of an onion ring in a parking lot in the story of how my best friend and I came to rule the world? Am I right? Well, this was not just an ordinary onion ring. This was the onion ring that led to the incident that led to the development of one of JHM’s greatest moments and achievements…the spin hurl.

Let us back track for a few moments because I am getting ahead of myself. We all have certain skills that God has given us or we have developed through years of study and practice. Some of us can play a musical instrument. For some of us it is a sport. While still for some of us it is simply just being an all around good human being. Well Matt had a special gift that I had never seen anyone else able to do, nor do I think I ever will experience someone with such a talent again. Matt could throw up on cue.

Now again, some of you are out there either thinking one of two things. One, that is not a talent! Anyone can do that! Well, have you tried it? Go ahead, I’ll wait a few minutes before I continue writing here to let you attempt this great feat………..More time, okay………Well did you accomplish the goal? I bet you did if you stuck something down your throat and hit that gag reflex we all have. Well, that is cheating. Matt could throw up just on thought and thought alone. Try out them apples!

Secondly, some of you may be thinking, that is not a talent, that is gross! Again, I agree with the fact that it is pretty disgusting and this feeling of disgust never truly leaves no matter how many times you experience such greatness, but it is a talent. I have never seen anyone else who can do what Matt does. If you ever do meet someone with a similar ability, call me and maybe we can sell tickets to some sort of puke off event. Heck, maybe ESPN 2 would host the event on late night cable some time. They have done worse you know!

Well, this event was the origin of what Matt and I called the spin hurl. It was not known to me before this time that Matt had the talent of spontaneous spewing. But this moment was not spontaneous, it was natural. I called Matt’s attention to the onion ring.

“Hey.” I called out to him pointing out the onion ring on the pavement before us. “I’ll split that with you.”

Matt heard me and turned to get a glimpse of what I was talking about. His eyes met the sight of the onion ring and that’s when his eyes bulged a bit. I heard him gagged a little and I focused on him more. I naturally thought he was joking around with me, but then out came the puke. Within seconds, all of the items that had taken us over a course of at least an hour came out of his mouth and hit the pavement. As he was throwing up, Matt tried to be a great friend and turn away from me to avoid allowing ame the sight at that moment. He turned too late and the vomit turned and flew out with his change of position. As he spun, the vomit spun too. I remember that the worst of it really was not the view of the puke itself, but the sickening splatter sound the vomit made as it hit the asphalt pavement. I almost threw up at the sound of it.

Matt sort of chuckled as he spit the rest of the vomit from his mouth and wiped the remnants that had fallen onto his chin on his sleeve. He looked at me shaking his head. “That was disgusting man! Why and the heck did you do that?”

I was not really sure. I just thought the comment I was making had a little bit of comedic side to it. “Sorry. I just wanted to make you laugh.” Matt waved to me as he approached his truck.

I walked behind him sort of feeling bad about the moment. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, jokes become spontaneous and they often seem good at the time. But when they actually come out and someone reacts differently than what is expected, you start to feel a bit guilty. This was one of those moments. I pretty much felt like crap. I did not know whether to just drop it completely or apologize. The night had gone so well that I felt I needed to take time to apologize for setting up Matt. After all, throwing up can not be that pleasant. I did not understand that Matt specialized in such a moment.

I approached from behind Matt and walked over to the passenger door. He was unlocking his door and I was waiting patiently to be let in. That is when he called out to me.

“Jeremy.” He yelled out. I looked up. Matt proceeded to open his mouth and flap it open and closed. That’s when I saw that his mouth was filled with vomit. A gritty, grimy green color was overflowing from his mouth onto his chin. He was smiling a bit.

“That is sick man!” I screamed at him.

“Exactly!” he chuckled. It was exactly the effect he was looking for. I suddenly lost the feeling of regret for calling his attention to the onion ring. I then knew his crazy connection and love for grossing someone out with a quick spontaneous spew.

The legend of the spin hurl had become part of JMH history.