Dick Summer Connection

Speedos and bikinis … doesn’t “anniversary” mean remembrance of a time gone by?  Like – walking onCape Cod in a reasonable bathing suit?  You know very well, Big Louie, that if I tried to parade around in a skimpy bikini my Louie-Louie Lad would throw ten fits the size of Mt.Everest to keep me covered.  Not that HE wouldn’t look pretty good in a Speedo … but if I can’t, then he can’t.  So there.

 What I would like to know is … what happens when I get to six years writing smarmy replies to his blog?

We’re heading into our sixth year together. Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your valuable time every week again this year. Thank you if you’ve just joined us. And thank you even more if you’ve been part of the “Huddle” from the beginning. If  you’ve just joined us, Let me explain that this podcast/blog is about the constant struggle of the Louie-Generation lads and ladies against the forces of the Pimple People, and the Dreadful drones. In other words…it’s about the fact that real courage isn’t always about beating your chest and hollering, “I’m number one.” Sometimes it’s just about a small voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow.” That’s hard. But Louie-Louie Generation folks have been through plenty. And we’ve got plenty left. Plenty of juice. Plenty of juice for fun, for new friends, for sex, for new ideas, and for turning fantasies into facts. Sometimes it’s pretty tough. But…one more day…we can do. And when we need help, we just remember what Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation always says: “Therapy is expensive…snapping bubble wrap is cheap. Your choice.”

We’re having a three week celebration this year. This time, we’ll check out the top five downloaded podcasts/blogs of the year. Next time it’s the top five downloaded podcasts/blogs of the entire six years. There’s a big difference. And the time after that it’ll be the top five most downloaded stories from the Personal Audio CDs.

Time to pop the cork. This year’s fifth most downloaded podcast/blog is from last July 24. It was about an email that had just come in that was so un-expected, and such a bomb shell, that when I called my Lady Wonder Wench and told her about it. She said something like “Oh my God, Wow”…and she was holding her cell phone at arms length by the time she got to the word “wow.” That “wow” came out on a note that was so high and loud, that I couldn’t really hear it, but my neighbor Randy’s Golden Retriever came over and told me about it. The email was notification from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that they had included some of my work in their new exhibit. The podcast/blog is called, “Rock and Roll is here to stay.” I haven’t been to the Rock Hall yet to see it. If you have, please tell me about it. The Email is Dick@DickSummer.com .

This year’s fourth most downloaded podcast/blog is about leap year…sort of. In it, I told you I was not leaping from my big, manly, comfortable, black leather pappa chair, because I have found that I don’t bounce nearly as well as I used to. But Proud Podcast Participant Betsy K nailed what it was really all about when she sent an email that said, “I liked “Leap” because I think at the age of most Louie-Louie Generation Lads and Lasses, we need to be reminded to leap, to see how high we can fly…while we still can. The podcast/blog is called, “Leap” and it’s from February 4th of this year.

Proud Podcast Participant Betsy K also had a comment about the third most downloaded podcast/blog this year. She said, “Whistle Missile is a podcast that reminds us to smile. Not enough smiling going on these days.” “Whistle Missle” was an announcement of our constant struggle to save the world, stop the sky from falling, and keep Victoria’s Secret out of the bad guy’s hands. The ones with the cold fingertips. It was an announcement that The Big Louie Department of Defence and Fooling Around has decided that it was time to target the Tear Mongers…the Dreadful Drones, who are always running around wringing their hands and mongering tears. Louie decided to launch our ultimate un-doomsday weapon…our, January 7th podcast/blog called the “Whistle Missile.”

Podcast/blog number two this year was about something I forgot…that I shouldn’t have forgotton. My wedding anniversary. Big Louie tried to cheer me up. He said, “Don’t worry about forgetting things. That happens. People get older. They get larger. They start to smell bad. That’s why they need their own space.” Louie is such a comfort sometimes. But my Lady Wonder Wench did a lot better than that. He has a blog called Wonder Wench Writes. And in it, she said, “My Louie-Louie Lad remembers me all the time…with jelly beans, and daffodils, and holding hands, and laughing at silly jokes, and telling bedtime stories.” That made me stand up very straight, look her right in the eyes, and kiss her till my filling melted. Proud Podcast Participant Jeff S. had a somewhat different reaction. He said, “It’s so wonderful to see that there is a happy ending to some of life’s stories. Not that you guys are ending. Although Dick is further along than most of us.” Thank you so much Jeff.

Please remember that you can hear all the podcasts, and/or read all the blogs…all the way back to the beginning…at www.dicksummer.com/podcast. They’re all there, and it’s all free…because it’s just between us…Sorry…it’s just among us…for the picky, picky among us.

Ok. Here is is. The most downloaded podcast/blog of the past 12 months…our sixth year. It’s from September 2, 2011. It’s called, “Tucking Summer Away.”

Tucking Summer Away

Friday, September 2nd, 2011

Time to tuck another summer away. Sunrise, sunset. To everything there is a season. And this is the season when Summer falls asleep. The long, laughing, lazy, crazy, hazy days at the beach, the nights full of soft lovers voices under the boardwalk…Saturdays in the park, itsy, bitsy, teeny, yellow polka dot bikinis, roller coasters, Italian ice cups, baseball, the sound of crickets, and lawn sprinklers…you can feel them all slipping away…into fall.

Time to tuck away the fireworks, hang up the hammock, and take one more turn around the grass on the lawn tractor. And for my Lady Wonder Wench and me, time to wrap the cape around this Summer’s memories. The ones that started in March with Met’s Spring Training. We’re taking our end of the summer trip up to old Cape Cod this week. I love the ocean…when it’s gentle…or even when it gets a little frisky. I can hear it in my head, even in the winter.

But I think there’s going to be a problem on the beach this year. I am packing my old Speedo that I’ve worn ever since I was a competitive swimmer…in college…a long, long, long time ago. It still pretty much fits me. But my Lady Wonder Wench is also packing that Godawful thing she bought me that she calls, “Your new trunks,” and she’s wearing that…wife look. You know the one that says something along the lines of, “I had a nightmare last night that you and George Clooney were fighting over me, and you won.” I knew this was going to happen ever since last year. Last year, while I was striding down the beach in my Speedo, she didn’t want to walk with me, and I distinctly heard her tell her friend Carine, that I was making it obvious that all men are not created equal. I took that as a compliment. But…maybe not.

I used to go walking in the sand like I owned the beach when I was a Coney Island life guard, a long, long, long time ago. Can’t do that since I had a knee replacement. It WAS a long time ago…when girls first started wearing bikinis. I wasn’t used to that. I sometimes walked down the beach for hours and never saw a girl’s face. Us Louie-Louie Generation guys have been around for a long time. So have our Louie-Louie ladies. And we like that. Most of the time. There’s a story about watching the seasons spin around together in the Bedtime Stories personal audio cd, and in the current podcast. It’s called “For The Long Run.”

I like that I know exactly the place on my shoulder where her head rests at night. I like that I can recognize her perfume. I like that when she has a bad dream, I can make it go away by just holding her hand…she smiles in her sleep when I do that. I like that she feels safe with me…she has done me the honor of allowing me to protect her for a long time.

“For The Long Run” is from the Bedtime Stories personal audio cd. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast, or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Bedtime Stories icon on the home page.

Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.

1- Why was my friend Bob’s request for his vanity plate refused ?

2- What’s the real reason homing pigeons can’t navigate with a magnet attached to their necks ?

3- What keeps women in Ontario from going topless ?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

To everything there is a season. Sunrise, sunset. My Lady Wonder Wench and I are New York Mets fans…for our sins. And our summer begins in late March, when we go to Florida to catch some Spring Training. I like that word…spring. I think they gave it that name so you could start listening for it in the middle of the night in March. Haven’t you ever listened carefully and heard little green stuff popping out of the snow ? That means Spring is coming.

I know there’s a soggy, sweaty, stinky side to Summer. But Summer is my season. I love it. But it’s time. Sunrise, sunset. It’s time to tuck another summer away. To everything there is a season. My Lady Wonder Wench and I will be away for a couple of weeks. I’m not taking a computer, because a vacation is a vacation. So there won’t be a blog or podcast for a couple of weeks either. But I am taking my Speedo. Because I don’t care if my birthday suit needs some ironing. I look forward to walking in the sand in my trusty old Speedo all year long.

I hate to tuck this summer away…but I’m pretty sure that if I listen closely enough next March…in the middle of the night when everything else is quiet…I’ll hear that little green stuff popping up.

I know this Summer has to fall asleep. Because…sunrise, sunset… that’s the only way there can be another spring.

That’s it. Thanks. Thanks for being there for me, and for my Lady Wonder Wench, and Big Louie…and…you know. Just thanks. Next time, it’s the top five podcasts/blogs from the entire six years. Happy Anniversary.

No problem, Louie-Louie Lad … if the hula hoop doesn’t fit … get a bigger one …

I gave the blue heron in His Louie-ship’s podcast a name.

His name is Toby; well, To Be or Not To Be, actually, but that translates down to Toby.  My blue heron.  I look for him every day.  He’s been back once so far, and I doubt I have ever seen anything more elegant in the wild.  My Lad bought me a blue heron statue for our garden and he, of course, is Toby.

Big Louie. I at least am not surprised that the guy in Tiny Dancer couldn’t see what was right in front of his nose … most pimple people don’t.  Why is it we almost always want what we used to have and gave away?

And yes, I am still violining – not well, but persistent … you don’t want to hear me.  Yet.

The Sixth anniversary of the Connections blog and the Good Night podcast is coming up. Drop me an email… Dick@DickSummer.com , and let me know if there’s a blog or podcast or two that you might like to see or hear as part of the celebration.

Did you ever look for something, and have somebody say, “There is is…it’s right under your nose.” The next time that happens, instead of saying something about having a senior moment, just haul yourself up to your full height, look that person right in the eyes, force your voice down to disc jockey pitch, and say, “You probably don’t know, but there is a place right under your nose that’s a blind spot. Therefore you can’t really see anything directly under your nose. So button your lip.”

And that’s really true. There’s a blind spot right under the middle of your nose. And 99% of the guys listening right now, are checking it out, and 100% of their ladies are watching them in horror.

Which that brings to mind something Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation always says. He says, “Some people see milk and honey. Other people only see calories and cholesterol. And one or two weirdoes tend to see the carrot at the end of the tunnel.”

Three things happened this week, and two Emails came in…and I didn’t see the connection till just now. Maybe that’s because it was right there under my nose.

The three things that happened went like this: first, My Lady Wonder Wench saw a Blue Heron land in a little stream on our neighbor Randy’s front lawn. It was exquisite. And she was as excited as I’ve seen her since our little Cecelia was born. Then my friend Chuck called to tell me that he arranged to buy his friend David’s girl friend. And the other day, driving past a hospital parking lot, I saw a license plate that made me stop, back up, and spend about thirty seconds thinking about it. The first email said, “Thanks for sharing those little pieces of your life with us.” The second one said, “Some of the things you said in this week’s podcast reminded me of someone I once loved/love.” At first, I didn’t see the connection, but it was right there under my nose.

Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.

1-   Why is Henry Wolf hoping his local TV station news runs a story on him.

2-   What should you never do with your cat ?

3-   What caused the first pre-computer social networks ?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

Right there under my nose…the Blue Heron lands on my neighbor’s lawn, Chuck buys David’s girlfriend, and an amazing license plate…then the one email thanking me for sharing little pieces of my life, and the other one from a lady who wasn’t really sure a love affair was really completely burned out. And I didn’t see the connection…because it was right there under my nose.

As Big Louie says, “Good judgement comes from experience. And a lot of experience comes from bad judgement. There’s a story about a guy who’s about to have a bucket full of experience dumped on his head…in the Night Connections Personal Audio CD, and in the current podcast. It’s called, “The Tiny Dancer.”

I can’t help but wonder if the lady really didn’t see him. Women know what’s going on. And then I wonder what it would have taken to have plugged their connection back in. What would have happened if she looked back at him…and he smiled at her. I can’t help wondering.

The Tiny Dancer is from the Night Connections Personal Audio CD. If you like it you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Night Connections Icon on the home page.

The Blue Heron, the bought and sold girlfriend, the very profound license plate,  the e-mails from the girl who might be wishing she had looked back…at least once, and the other one that just said thanks for sharing little pieces of my life. You’ll probably see the connection if I fill in a little about each of them.

The first Email about the lady who wasn’t quite sure she wasn’t in love any more…sounded to me like she was seriously thinking of re-opening a door that had slammed shut between two people who really cared about each other. And something unexpected in one of these podcasts, had made her put her hand on the door knob. And she was happy. Really happy about it. And that was a special thrill for me…having something to do with that. The second email came jumping out of the spam and trash in the email collection late in the afternoon of a day I’d rather forget…except for her note. It was un-expected, and I wanted to hug her for it.

My Lady had just pulled out of our driveway when she saw the beautiful blue heron land on my neighbor’s lawn. She called me on her cell phone, she was so happy and excited. It was something wonderful that she didn’t expect. And I haven’t heard her that happy and excited since the day our daughter Kris told us that her little girl Cecelia was born. She’s been hurting a bit lately…it’s the result of that accident…and she was smiling and laughing for the first time in almost a month.

David and Chuck are both friends of mine. They’re heavy duty big time airline pilots. I fly my little four seater mostly for fun. David’s “Girlfriend” is really an early Louie-Louie Generation Piper Cub. He called her his, “Girlfriend.” Pilots are that way. One day when Chuck came for a visit, he saw her parked right next to my plane in the hanger. He has wanted an old (1932, Fabric covered, no electric) plane exactly like that for years. And when David said he’d sell her to him, because…well…he hated to do it, but he had to…something sad…sad but wonderful happened again…to two very special friends, who certainly didn’t expect it to happen. And the license plate on the car parked in the hospital parking lot that made me stop and…frankly made me break down a bit…it said in single letters…letter i, letter m, letter s, letter u, letter j, letter o, letter e. I miss you Joe.

I was passing that hospital on the way to an appointment after having an argument with my Lady Wonder Wench. I almost lost her in that same hospital after her accident a few years ago. I got luckier than Joe’s friend. It was a slap on the side of the head that I certainly didn’t expect. It said, “Oh my God you are the luckiest guy alive.” I bought her flowers on the way home. And she gave me a long, wet, warm, Wonder Wenchy kiss.

I don’t know why I didn’t see it right away. But I finally figured out the connection here. It was hiding…right under my nose all along. I guess that’s why it took me a while. You probably understood it much faster than I did. It’s simple. Even when you’re having one of those days when your lava lamp has burned out, you can’t get your hula hoop over your tummy, your computer has crashed and there’s a report due tomorrow morning, and you can’t remember any of your passwords, and your wrinkles are beginning to hurt…you just never know when something wonderful…really wonderful..is going to happen to you.

Jimmy Stewart was right all those Christmases ago…in that classy old black and white movie. If you just hang in there long enough…the odds are very good that something special is going to come along…when you least expect it.

You know what?  I guess it really is… A Wonderful Life.

The SIXTH anniversary of the blog and podcast is coming up soon. If there’s a blog or podcast that you especially liked, please let me know so I can include it in the research i’m doing for the celebration orgy. The address is: Dick@DickSummer.com  Thanks.

So all right, a pimple person wouldn’t know who Sophia Loren is.  And that same pimple person would make the majestic mistake of giving my Louie-Louie Lad an opportunity to rub his back legs together and create that great scritching noise the male tree frogs make to attract lady tree frogs, by saying to him, “I’ll tell the girls you’re ready for them.” 

It’s not her fault he’s a Louie-Louie Lad of major years … and experience …

And it’s no one’s fault that my oh-so-wonderful Lad just isn’t used to being incapacitated in any major way … like not being able to talk straight with his mouth out of shape (for a change) … but he did earn a very strong RICHARD when those back legs started their scritching.

 What else is a Louie-Louie Lass supposed to do?

I am sitting here in my big, manly, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, having survived a “RICHARD” morning. As any honest, Louie-Louie Generation guy will admit, one of the good things about having some years in your rear view mirror is that eventually you learn when to say yes, when to say no, and when to say, Whoopie and when to say, Whoops. My Lady Wonder Wench saw a very loud, Whoopie moment coming this morning, and that’s why she said, RICHARD. When she says RICHARD like that…it always gets my attention. My Lady Wonder Wench is the only person in the world, besides the IRS, the FAA, and the Department of Motor Vehicles who calls me Richard. And that’s only when my testosterone has betrayed me, and I do something that can best be described as adolescent, immature, and or smarmy. I guess I hit the jackpot this morning.

Here’s what happened. I’m having some dental work done that involves a dentist and three nurses. So you know it’s not just the every day kind of dental work where he says things like, “Open wide, this won’t hurt…can you feel it when I whack you with my dental hammer, and please don’t bite down that’s my thumb”. It’s more complicated than that. So my Lady Wonder Wench decided that it would be a good idea for her to drive me home, because there would be so much Novocain in my mouth that I wouldn’t be able to see over my swollen upper lip to drive home myself. That’s why she was sitting in the office with me, when the 13 year old Pimple Person nurse came in to take my blood pressure, and to ask questions that are routine in a procedure like this. Questions like are you allergic to penicillin, and more ominously, what’s the name of anyone you’d like to have us call in an emergency.

That’s when one of those voices you probably also have in your head that insists on telling you jokes at a funeral made me say Sophia Loren. Nurse Pimple didn’t even blink…she just wrote it down…because she had no idea that Sophia Loren lurks and smiles, and turns up the sweat glands in the dreams and fantasies of almost every Louie-Louie Generation guy. And then she said the most amazing thing anybody ever said to me in a dentist’s office. You will not believe this.

With a completely straight face, Nurse Pimple said, quote, “I’ll tell the girls you’re ready now.” I’LL TELL THE GIRLS YOU’RE READY NOW. Instantly, a soundtrack started in my mind. And on cue, a long line of Victoria’s Secret models, led by Fifi, Desiree, and a mostly naked Catherine Zeta Jones look alike who were lying in wait, anxiously anticipating the word that I was ready for them…whirled into the room, and began to have their way with me…in my head that is. And the voice in my head started hollering YEssss, and began clapping his hands over his head like a Spanish tango dancer…or maybe that was me clapping my hands over my head…things were getting confused, and all of a sudden a very familiar voice rang out, with a very specific message. It said…”RICHARD.” Whoops.

As Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie Louie Generation has explained in the past, testosterone is a preservative. A preservative is a chemical that keeps fungus, and other things from growing…and growing is one way to describe the process of maturing. And evidently, I seem to have an excess of the stuff.

All this happened very quickly. And no sooner had the sound of RICHARD made my eyes flick open, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but…THE GIRLS Nurse Pimple had promised. They weren’t the same ones who had starred in that silken, sweaty, sleazy, scene that had evidently put a smile on my face that Lady Wonder Wench later probably accurately described as smarmy. There were three of them…masked…wearing surgical gowns that were not slit up the side. There was not a stitch of black lace showing. Two of them were Pimple People. As a matter of fact, one still had acne, and one had distinctly noticeable droopy ears, and the non-pimple-person would have looked better wearing orthopedic boots and corrective hot pants.

Then the dentist walked in and said, “This won’t hurt.” I wanted to tell him it already did. But I couldn’t make my upper lip move.

Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.

1-   Why did a board of directors give a guy $26 Million?

2-   How enthusiastic can you get as a blood donor?

3-   How do we know where Bill Gates keeps his cash?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

A couple of very interesting emails this week. (The Email address is dick@dicksummer.com  Proud Podcast Participant Sgt. P said, “Your blog last week reminded me of Bob & Ray. Why? Because many of their bits were sponsored by Quagmire Corporation, makers of mud.” If you don’t remember Bob and Ray, Google them. They were very funny guys.

“Mud … mud … glorious mud ….” Come on, Big Louie, sing the song with me ….Mud is such fun, Lads and Lasses … you can wallow in it … kick it at things (or people) … make lovely pies … or mud balls … it doesn’t splash like water, it just slogs … and best of all, it makes you laugh ….Pimple people have no idea just how great real mud is.  They’re all so busy slinging the pseudo-stuff at each other, they don’t have time to sit down in it and enjoy the crumbly, sticky, thick, gooey marshmallow-like mess that can keep you warm (and dirty, of course) … but fills your head with giggles, your fingers with mud pies, and your smile with memories.

I never met a mud pool I didn’t want to skip through … and I have to figure out how I’m going to teach my great granddaughter about mud without her mother having fits over what she considers dirt.  Dirt?  Mud?  You’re wrong, momma Emma …

And by the time little Cece is old enough, she will also fling herself wholeheartedly into all the mud pools of her wonderful life.

I’ve got to be more consistent about telling you about some of the emails that come in between these blogs and podcasts. For example, Proud Podcast Participant, Mike T. said, “I have finally understood the basic message that Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie generation has been trying to get across. Big Louie dreams of a better world, where chickens can cross a road without having their motives questioned.”

Well…yeah…I guess you could say that’s part of the point. But I think a bit more of the point is that Louie-Louie Generation Lads and Ladies understand the many uses to which that chicken’s feathers can be put to use when making out. That’s not weird either. Although it might be considered a little out of control if you get so excited you start using the whole chicken.

The Pimple People can’t understand us. And they won’t have anything to do with us, because we still read books. They think a nap should be our happy hour. They’re convinced that all our sexy parts have fallen off. They haven’t. They may be rolling around a little…but they’re not falling off. And we know how to use them. We confuse the Pimple People, because we’re not into Archie and Edith Bunker type dried up, old relationships. We’re not into relationships at all. We’re into romances. As Big Louie, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation always says, “Relationships are full of careful choices, painful compromises, and mutual goals. Romances are full of hope, and fear, and sweat…and lots of stuff that makes the politically correct forces for good in the community blush.” They’re not shiny and pure. They get down in the good, hot, human mud, and roll around. I guess that when you become a Louie-Louie Generation lad or lady, it becomes obvious that life will eventually turn you into either one of the 3 Stooges, or one of the 3 Musketeers. And it’s mostly your choice. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t ever plan on being ANYBODY’s stooge.

Dick’s Details Quiz. All answers are in the current podcast.

1-    What baseball routine reminds me of a drunken basketball team?

2-    What could be Arnold Schwartzenneger’s secret weapon in case he does another super hero movie ?

3-    What did Admiral Richard Byrd’s friends call him ?

Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

Emails. The address is dick@dicksummer.com. I read and answer them all. Here’s one from Proud Podcast Participant Scott E. It got me thinking about how we need mud in our lives. By “mud,” I mean imperfections…not terrible stuff…but sometimes…simple, human, naughty stuff. Scott is doing a book about Jack Nicholson, and he says in part, “I was curious if you had any feelings for the kind of characters he played…either related to your own work and style, or just as a broadcasting professional.” Interesting note. Here’s part of what I told Scott: “Mucking around in the roles that Jack Nicholson played  is going to get you into some pretty deep mud. I think he’s one of the guys who plays himself for real. There have been others who played the ‘Self’ they wanted the public to see. Bogart…Grant…guys like that who played their parts to P.R. Perfection. I have a hunch that Nicholson had the guts to drop his drawers…right down into the mud that real human beings are made of. That’s what it says in the Good Book. God grabbed a handful of mud, and said, “Get a life.” No dirt…no mud. No mud…no life. Jack Nicholson had the courage to show us his own, genuine, emotional personal parts. Mud and all. I like mud. The sticky, warm, human kind.

And it’s getting rare.  Certainly in the media. Except for Diane Sawyer. Diane Sawyer is definitely sticky, warm and human. She manages to tell the news in no nonsense fashion, but she is always either your wife, your girlfriend, your sister, or your mom depending on the story. She’s a living, breathing, real, human being. And she behaves like one. But I was watching Chris Wallace the other night, and he was showing an interview he did with his father, Mike Wallace a while ago. At the end of the interview, Mike said…”Chris…I love you.” It just blurted out. It wasn’t careful, considered, or contrived. It was an honest, proud, gutsy dad, watching his son trying to fill those big poppa shoes. Mike was that way. Chris isn’t. He kept that precious, muddy, moment of truth at arms length. No mud on Chris. He finished the piece on his dead father like any reporter…straight, ahead, clean, pure…a professional newsman, noting the death of an important person. His father. How sad.”

That brought up the other point that Scott was asking about. I told Scott, that, “I hurt for radio right now. The only thing radio has to offer is…companionship…being a friend. You put an ear piece right into your ear to listen…no other medium can get that physically close. But it’s not happening. Radio is doing a Chris Wallace. When I was on the air, I considered my listeners to be part of my, ‘huddle.’ I was the quarterback, and we were all gathered around for mutual protection. And the big goal was, no matter how muddy and hurt we might be feeling, we were going to make it through the night to dawn…together.”

There’s a story about making it through one startling human night, in the Bedtime Stories Personal Audio CD. It’s called, The Perfect Stranger. She’s a good lady…the lady in the story. She’ll be faithful to her husband. She’ll give him every bit of herself…her body and her mind. Well…except maybe…for that little… magnificent…magical…muddy speck that she might keep…and hold…privately…deep in her heart. I think most of us have a little speck of mud like that…hidden away…very deep inside. Even my Lady Wonder Wench…and me.

The Perfect Stranger is from the Bedtime Stories Personal Audio CD. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just download it from the Bedtime Stories icon on the home page at www.dicksummer.com .

I’m looking forward to more emails from you. Tell me what you think. The address is dick at dick summer dot com. You know what I think ? I think most real, live, breathing, romances including my own, aren’t shining and pure…made of careful choices, painful compromises, and mutual goals. They’re made of hope, and sweat, and fear and flesh…and stuff that makes the forces for good in the community blush. Mud.

And that’s what I wish for you. That, and the experience of at least one hour…of one shocking night…of happy, laughing, crying, rolling around together in some hot, sticky, human mud…at least once in your life.

Lots of big names are being interviewed on Dick’s death. Here’s a true story from an ordinary guy (me) who had the pleasure of interviewing him on my New York radio show. Out of the thousands of people I interviewed on my show, he was the only one who took the time and effort to sit down and send me a hand written note. It said, “Thank you for having me on your show.” What a class act.

Here’s a (free) download of that interview: