Black Denim(Dill McLain) Jürg Willimann decided to change his life. He knew exactly what he wanted. Namely look for a pretty young woman with whom he could travel around the world and enjoy a wonderful time.

He was 67, twice divorced – his second wife left him 10 years ago with a younger man – and since his retirement two years ago he felt bored. After several failed attempts to get in contact with young women, he realized that he had to change his appearance. He asked his hairdresser to style his hair in a modern way and he bought two pairs of black denim jeans, a smart leather jacket, a dozen coloured shirts and a pair of stylish boots. After almost 40 years in dark suits and wearing a white shirt, his new outfit was for him spectacular and he felt absolutely renewed. There must be thousands of young women in the world willing to share life with a mature well-preserved man living with a certain wealth.

What did he then work for all those years? Now was the time to enjoy the fruits. Today was his day.

After a last checking glance at his new appearance in the mirror, he smiled, amused, took his car key and left his house. He drove to the small village at the foot of the hill where he intended to start his adventure. He sang during the ride and parked his car in a parking space next to the cable car. The ride in the cable car was pleasant and he smiled behind his new self-darkening sunglasses. After arriving at the top of the hill he realized that his new denim trousers were too long. He had to roll them up.

As planned he walked slowly along the path that led to the famous mountain restaurant with a large revolving terrace offering a stunning view. He found an ideal seat in the right corner on the terrace from where he could carefully observe the scene.

There were several young women around but no one paid him any attention. After four and a half hours of sitting there and after having eaten dinner twice, including apple cake to prolong his session, he started to feel slightly depressed. His eyes were too tired now to search around, his lips were cramped into a permanent smile. He paid his bill and decided to walk downhill. He felt sad and he marched along without noticing the landscape. He was almost a bit angry.

Half way towards the cable car station was an old fountain that in past times served as watering place for the horses carrying travellers, hunters and smugglers over the pass. Many legends were told about this fountain. Jürg Willimann sat on the trough of the fountain and watched the water for a while, flowing from the faucet which was quite high up on the side of the fountain. He leaned a bit over to see the falling water sketching circles in the basin and then he saw a face in the water. It was his face, this was clear. The moving water played with his face.

He stared into his watery face when a voice said: ‘You are a total fool man, why do you only have eyes for young women? Who do you think you are? A new Casanova? You are a 67 year-old man with a rather boring personality, you are in quite good shape, that is true. But why on earth do you just not notice all the nice women around of your age? You conceited donkey!’

Jürg Willimann turned his head slowly and looked up, then looked around. There was no human being far and wide. He found this very, very confusing.

‘Wake up and finally become reasonable,’ murmured the voice coming out of the water tap. Jürg stared totally shocked at the fountain, lost his balance and fell head first into the basin of the fountain.

His first attempt to stand up failed because he hit his head on the heavy iron grill meant to hold buckets when being filled with water. Finally, he managed to stand up, but since he had lost his glasses under water, he could not see very well.

"What on earth are you doing, it’s too cold for a swim!" said a female voice; this time not from the fountain. Jürg climbed slowly out of the water and tried to walk toward the female person. His head felt like a blind drum, he was dripping wet and his rolled up trouser legs had loosened in the water so that he stumbled and fell into the unknown woman and both fell to the ground.

There was silence for a moment and then he noticed a wonderful hypnotic perfume. He would have liked to fall asleep and dive into this fragrance. Forever.

The woman managed to stand up first. Then she helped him up and said in the direction of the path: "Alex, come over here please and help fishing for the glasses of our great swimmer!" Jürg felt uncomfortable and started to shake with cold. "Now, turn around and get out of these wet clothes, we can offer you some replacement!" said the energetic woman.

"Come on, get a move on, it is not the first bare bum that I have seen in my life!" The woman added, a bit annoyed. Jürg obeyed and started to get undressed. It was rather difficult to take off his wet denim trousers. The woman seemed to be very decided and knew what she was doing. Jürg just let it all happen and gratefully put on the dry clothes that the young man took out of his backpack.

"Here we go champ!" the young man said and placed the sunglasses on Jürg’s nose. Then he reminded his mother "Mum, we have to rush now, we should not miss the cable car!" She looked at Jürg and said smiling: "Yes we have to hurry up, well then, adieu and good luck." The two left and marched away along the path. Just before they disappeared at the bend of the path, they turned around and waved. Then they disappeared behind the rock.

Jürg checked his new outfit: a Scottish plaid blanket in green and orange was fixed around his waistline, a tomato red sweatshirt with the head of Che Guevara over the full front part and yellow socks with rubber soles.

A group of young people passed and they all giggled at him.

He picked up the plastic bag the unknown woman had packed with his wet clothes. He felt dead-tired and quite humiliated but after a while started to walk downhill to the cable car. He ignored the comments of the passers by. He ignored their staring. And in the cable car he stood right in front of the window and closed his eyes. Thank God, his car was only a few meters away from the station. Of course, he had to dig around in his wet clothes to find the key. And then he sat in his car. The worst was over.

At home he took a hot bath, drank two glasses of red wine and went to bed, falling into a deep and long sleep.

When he awoke it was almost noon. He stared at the ceiling for a long time. He felt a great emptiness inside. After another hour of staring at the ceiling he got up and wandered around without any purpose. He passed the answering machine of his phone and noticed that there was a message. It was the voice of the woman of the day before. She wanted to know how he was and asked him to return the red sweatshirt of her son, because it was his favourite piece. She left her address and added: ‘It was easy to find out where you live, because we saw you parking your car when you came in the morning. Before we left in the late afternoon, we recorded the plate number and could thus find out your address.’

Jürg unpacked the plastic bag. He decided to wash the plaid blanket and the sweatshirt. The rest of the day he spent walking through his house. ‘The bloody fountain is right, I am worse than a donkey, I am a conceited fool,’ he said to himself.

The next morning he awoke and remembered that wonderful perfume. He showered and left the house. He spent over an hour in the perfume corner of a large department store. With the help of all the staff in the perfume department he finally managed to find it.

On Sunday morning he packed the plaid blanket, the sweatshirt and the socks in a bag and placed the nicely wrapped box with the perfume on top. He was indecisive and spent the next hours listening to music. Late in the afternoon he left the house. After about 35 minutes he arrived in the small village and it was easy to find the house. He parked the car and opened the gate. He stepped into a nice garden with a cherry tree. He rang the bell. No one answered or opened the door. He placed the bag right in front of the door and turned around. A path led along the house. He followed it and turned around the corner. The path led to some stairs going downwards. Jürg was indecisive. Just this moment a door was opened downstairs and an unknown young man rushed up towards him. When he arrived at the last step he smiled and said happily: "Hey, you are early, just go downstairs and meet the members of the band, I will be back in a moment, I have to get a cable," and slapped Jürg’s back. Jürg did not quite understand why they seemed to expect him. But he did not wonder more and went downstairs. He stepped into a large room with a small stage. Some wild posters decorated the grey walls and various instruments were standing around. No doubt, this was the rehearsal room of a band.

From one second to another he felt a tingling pleasure climbing up his body. He sat down on the drummer’s chair, reached for the drumsticks and tried them out. It all went automatically. He played a few rhythms. He was totally absorbed and did not see the three young men coming into the room. A voice said excitedly: "We have a new drummer, we are rescued!" The three shook hands with Jürg, who did not know what to say or do, and certainly not what this all was about. And before he could react, Alex came into the room, saw the three standing with Jürg and made a very confused face: "Did you say we have a new drummer? Do you mean this grandfather, who by the way is a great philanderer only interested in young women? What a loser!" he shouted and he rushed out of the room angrily.

There was silence for a long while. Jürg sat there with the drumsticks in his hands and heard the fountain talking again: 'You are a total fool! When will you act your own age?’ He was on the verge of tears.

One of the three young men noticed his condition and said: "Alex did not really mean it quite so drastically." And then continued: "Look, we are having a bad moment, we set up a band, rehearsed for over six months, got the chance to accompany a famous rock group on tour – a chance that only comes once – and two days ago our drummer left. So we are all very nervous and disappointed, because the tour starts next Saturday. We placed a note in the Internet and my colleague meant that you are our new man."

Jürg moved his drumsticks producing a drum roll. One of the three young men jumped up and shouted: "Hey man, you really are a drummer!" "Look," said Jürg, "I was a drummer in a rock band about 45 years ago. In the past 30 years I only took the drumsticks in my hands at carnival time for one week, and maybe three other times per year at parties." The three stared at him, stared at each other, stared at him again. "But we could at least try a piece together," said one of them. They did not wait for any answer, turned around and went to their instruments.

Jürg felt lost, amused, but also really challenged. They played the Jailhouse Rock. After the last sound the others turned around, smiled at him and sang in chorus: "Hey old chap, this was not bad, not at all!"

The door opened and Alex appeared on the doorstep with open mouth. Behind him stood his mother. Both applauded. Alex stammered: "Sorry for what I said before. Your drumming is absolutely great!"

‘Your mother looks absolutely great!’ Jürg thought. She thanked him for the perfume and then asked emphatically: "Will you play with the band? I am the manager." He looked at her for a long moment and finally said: "Yes!"

They rehearsed all next week. Jürg and Alex’s mother fell madly in love. The tour was a great success. After the tour was over the whole band went at Jürg’s invitation back up in the cable car to the mountain fountain to celebrate.

During the party at the fountain he would swear he heard a voice say: ‘The Casanova drummer has found his pair!’

---