Popping Gum

Nobody I know pops their gum. Maybe I've been hanging with a snooty group, but my friends either quietly chew and swallow their gum or surreptitiously roll it up into a napkin. Sure, little kids still blow bubbles, but even that is becoming passe. Besides good lung exercise, gum popping is inspirational and creative. And it's, well, intimidating. A strong popper became the de facto leader.
Growing up, we all popped. We did it right in front of each other, as well as in front of adults. Most adults were puffing away and understood our need to pop. The trick is to do it without warning, very nonchalant, not making eye contact. You could not appear to be impressed with yourself no matter how big the bubble. We were the Steve McQueens of gum popping.
Anyone popping purple gum was watched carefully. There were rules and purple was pushing it. It was fine to combine two slabs of gum, but that didn't necessarily translate into bigger bubbles or louder pops. Pop volume was without a doubt more important than size. If a girl could pop at the same level as a guy there was an unspoken respect offered in the form of licorice. But you never gave a girl black or red licorice, only brown. Maybe in Texas the rules were different. Some years ago when pop rocks had their brief popularity, I was a mature adult and had lost interest. Although I did try them a few times. Not satisfying. The candy was doing all the work. I mean, c'mon.