The Unmuddled Mathematician

Bim

By Chris S. Coray, The Unmuddled Mathematician

When I was 16 years old my dad bought a membership in the Chesapeake Duck Club near Corinne, Utah.  The club rules allowed the sons of members to hunt with their dads.  The hunting was great but what I remember now aren’t the ducks and geese but the old guys whom I got to meet, hunt with, and observe as they socialized, hunted, and told lies to each other.  They were all characters. 

The following story is true, witnessed by me, and it is about C.H. Myers, called Bim by all who knew him.  He was 75, weighed about 130 lbs, and was almost always as excited as a 5 year old on Christmas morning.  When he got all his cold weather gear on he sort of just disappeared in it.  It was hard to find him in his down cocoon. 

One afternoon in the tired old club house Bim was using the bathroom.  Unfortunately for him as he flushed the toilet he had a violent sneeze.  Out came his false teeth, both tops and bottom, and down the toilet they went.  I told you he was excitable and this set him off at the top end of the scale.  He ran, in the style of a 75 year old guy, around the club house and made unintelligible sounds that all sounded like “Mmmmmm!, Nnnnnnn, Mmmmmm” to me.  Remember, he now had no teeth so his gums did a poor job of helping with diction.  Reasonable grown men eventually intervened and were able to settle him down a little.  After about 10 minutes and with the aid of pencil and paper we learned the story.  By now Bim had begun to regularly smack his gums which made a sound like that of pulling a vacuum sealed rubber cup off of a smooth floor.

All was not lost, however.  This was 1959.  It turns out that the sewage did not go into a septic tank or a sewer.  It just ran through a pipe and ended up in part of the slough that made up the Chesapeake.  Bim’s hunting partner thought all might be rescued.  He put on a pair of chest waders and got a fairly fine meshed net.  Then he waded out into the marsh and put the net over the outlet pipe leading from the bathroom to the swamp.  We began to flush the toilet over and over again and wouldn’t you know it after a while the net contained both the top and bottom set of teeth.  When the hunting partner brought them inside the club house Bim could scarcely contain himself.  He immediately grabbed the teeth and started to reinsert them in his mouth.  Cooler and quicker heads prevailed however, and we stopped his arms in midair and in time.  It was explained (with some difficulty) to Bim that it might be a good idea to wash the teeth off and disinfect them before reinsertion.

A glass full of bourbon whiskey was obtained.  The false teeth were thoroughly washed and then placed in the alcohol.  Bim paced around the table looking at his teeth like my wife eyeing a Snickers bar.  Eventually, he was given the OK and Bim grabbed the teeth, inserted them in his mouth, and immediately drank all the alcohol in the glass.

Sometimes I was sent out with Bim to hunt, to be the muscle and provide safety.  I told you he was excitable.  On one particular goose hunt I stood 2 feet away from him in our blind as he raised his gun to shoot some of the numerous birds that were flying that day.  On three consecutive flocks of geese I watched this 75 year old man raise his pump shotgun, aim it, and then eject 3 brand new shells without ever pulling the trigger.  Too much excitement.