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as Jason and Valerie decided to adjourn, to the back-most booth. The only one—which was unoccupied.

Our Hero—shy as always—kept “hitting all around” asking this lovely young woman, to accompany him, on an actual date. In that epoch—much different from the late-nineties, and/or the turn of the century—he’d believed that a young woman (any young woman) would not have been used, to the much more aggressive advances, so common in the “culture”, in which he’d grown up. The rather-bold, sometimes gross, advances—that had seemed so prevalent (and acceptable—even often-encouraged) in the age, from which he had just come.

Jason, himself, had never been the least bit comfortable—with such aggressiveness. Most of which—he’d always considered downright rude. Lorna—his waitress/buddy, at the coffee shop—and he had, quite often, indulged, in some rather-interesting, sometimes-embarrassing (to Our Hero, anyway) discussions, pertaining to the sensitive (to him) subject.

Of course, Jason had, consistently, been totally out of step—in every known measure—with what he’d always considered the, totally-rude, culture (so-called) of 2001. He had always had trouble—relating to what he’d “forever” considered to be, out and out, pure, discourtesy. To him, it was most troubling—that unadulterated crudeness had, sadly, seemed to flat-out flourish, in the 21st century. Well—to be truthful—it had, in Jason’s opinion, permeated the entire country’s mores! Had inundated it—all through the eighties, and the nineties. Maybe before that. Probably before that. The subject had always had a profound, discomforting, effect, on him.

Nobody had really ever been required—to advise him of the obvious fact: The “well-known” fact—that he was the proverbial “square peg… in a round hole”! This despite the fact, that Lorna had always gone out of her way, to let him know just how laughable his attitude—toward the opposite sex—had always been.

He’d spent so many nights, in 2000 and 2001. (plus even a few days and evenings) wondering if the good-looking waitress was indicating—to him—that she was (ah) “available”. Eager, maybe? For all manner of pleasures! Activities—that he could only dream about!

Over all the time—that he’d known the lovely Lorna—had he “muffed” his chance? Many chances? Dropped the ball? When a golden opportunity was, maybe, presenting itself? Possibly, even, flagrantly presenting itself? That had—always—been an extremely troubling question! A conundrum—that Jason had (vainly) muddled over! Had tried to sort through—too many times, to even attempt to count!

Of course, in 1942, these “crude” attitudes—vis-a-vis Lorna, or anyone else—were completely irrelevant. Presumably, he’d never see Lorna again. Well—if he ever did—he’d be something like 50 or 55 years her senior! That would make for a very difficult relationship!

He shuddered! From head-to-toe! He’d hoped that Valerie hadn’t noticed! A physical impossibility! She seemed to not respond—negatively, anyway—to the “unusual” phenomenon! That dreaded thought had caught him unaware! Had—literally—“snuck up on him”!

Thought being: If he were to see Lorna again—and he wasn’t old enough to be her father—it would’ve been because (shudder—but, a minor one) he’d have been “sent back”! He managed to stifle yet a third spastic “happening”!

In 1942—in that “sweet shop”, on Schoolcraft Road, in Detroit—he, somehow, seemed to be, happily, “within his element”. He just knew it! Especially when his act, of deigning to order Boston Coolers—for both Valerie, and himself—seemed to please her! Thankfully! (“The old Boston Cooler Trick”.)

As they’d spoken on and on, he’d discovered that the young woman’s primary interests seemed to lie—in the popular radio shows, and movies, of the time.

Her “very favorite” radio program, she advised him, was the Lux Radio Theater—broadcast at nine o’clock, every Monday night. The legendary producer/director, Cecil B. DeMille, had MC’d the hour-long program. For years! The show had, amazingly, dramatized current-release movies! Stuff that was currently playing—at that very moment—in the big, ornate, sometimes-garish, “palace”, theaters, downtown! For the most part, the program had usually featured the stars from the movie’s cast! Unheard of, to Jason’s generation! (Unless they’d been fortunate enough, to have had the continual—sometimes very-repetitious—nostalgic counsel, of a “long-winded grandpa”!)

And these movies had been current. Most of the times, the flicks had just begun their extensive run, at the aforementioned movie houses, downtown.

In the thirties and forties—and even into the fifties—it would be weeks (maybe even months) before these pictures would ever make their way, out into to the gauche, oh-so-common, neighborhoods.

Even the neighborhood theaters—had their own pecking order. The people at the Great Lakes always got their movies a couple weeks before the Norwest—located on Grand River, near Southfield Road—received their copy. The Beverly was fortunate enough, to run their movies—a week, before the Norwest. In the era, from where Jason had come, the movies seemed to open everywhere! And all at the same time. The downtown “palaces” had, pretty much, gone the way of the proverbial “dodo bird”. Another tradition, that—so sadly—had petered out, before the lad had been born.

Our Hero had remembered Grandpa Piepczyk—speaking, often, of Valerie’s favorite radio show. And a multitude, of her other “never miss” programs—although the old man had never mentioned the fact, that the Lux product was a “beauty soap”.

Fibber McGee & Molly had been his granddad’s favorite program. He’d spoken of it, often—and long. That had turned out to be the second show, that Valerie had mentioned. Grandpa’s constant, highly-illustrative, descriptions, of the program (and its various/varying characters) were helping Jason—to actually carry on a “halfway intelligent” conversation about the program. A situation—for which he was immensely grateful!

For the most part, the young man had simply sat there—totally transfixed—by this vibrant young woman! Two or three times, he was on the verge of asking her to accompany him—to a movie! Preferably that afternoon! Or that evening! Any time! But, he’d always stopped short! Always!

“Look,” he finally managed to murmur, “I’d like to… well… I’d like to… would love to… uh, you know… to, actually. see you again. But… I have to tell you… I don’t have a car, y’know. And so, if you’d…”

“A car? Who does? Who does have a car… these days? And… what, with the war going on now… they’ve stopped even making the durn things! They’re really going to be

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