Dick Summer Connection

Times have obviously changed…and so have we. Gas is now going for $3.00/gallon and up, we have six foot wide plasma tvs hooked up to Tivos and dvds, computer dating, virtual sex, cloning, NASCAR, and cell phones with personalized ring tones. Our musical heritage is nourished by folks like the well respected Pop Singer and naked person Brittany Spears, American Idol winners, and Rappy headed ho performers like “Cam’ron”…who is a multi millionaire because he uses the “N word,” the “B word,” and the “H word.” And I think many of us look quite attractive these days with our mini skirts and support hose, unbuttoned disco shirts with a heart monitor, and in line skates with a monogrammed walker.

But some things don’t ever seem to change. We now have another round of “Music of the devil,” and “the END OF CIVILIZATION” warnings by the Forces For Good In The Community. Let me be clear… I think Rap is crap… but this round of “The end of the world is coming because of popular music” will have exactly the same effect as the last one. Zip. The Republic will stand, sex will still sell, and the Earth will continue to spin.

Forces For Good In The Community have been on hand to blame music for making us sinners for a long time. The Catholic Church actually said it’s a sin to listen to one tune because its beat “caused women to lose control of their passions.” In case that sounds like something you’d like to slip into your cd player when your girlfriend is over at your place for drinks, don’t look for anything by Tupak or Dr. Dre… pick up a copy of Ravel’s “Bolero.” If you are a thoroughly depraved wretch, you may want to pick up some tunes by a popular young composer who was accused of “corrupting the youth of an entire generation.” His name was Johann Strauss. He was guilty of popularizing the waltz.

Here’s my point: MUSIC MAKES ITS OWN NATION. And the people of any nation have a right to speak whatever language they like.

You tend to associate with people who like the same kind of music you do. My lady Wonder Wench and I were at a Dave Brubeck concert last night. Dave Brubeck is the Beethoven of jazz. He is from the pre-Louie-Louie generation. In the formal setting of a theater performance, it is customary for a performer of his age and stature to wear a tux on stage..and just as customary for the audience to be dressed nicely…not formally, but nicely. And that was the case last night. It was a big time jazz performance and a big time jazz audience…a comfortable mix of black and white faces, some jackets on the guys, not many ties, but mostly dress shirts and nice slacks, and a similar dress code for the ladies.

Comfortable is the important word here. I was talking with the couple next to me during intermission, and Wonder Wench was having a conversation with the couple behind us. Lots of smiles, a few pictures of kids shared, and invitations exchanged and accepted for an after theater snack at the restaurant down the street. We’ll never see those people again, but for a few hours last night we were citizens of the same nation…united by the music that brought us together. And it was good.

The language of that nation doesn’t include the words nigger, bitch and ho. Nobody in the theater would have been “shocked, dismayed and offended” by those words. But anyone who used them in our musical nation last night would have been speaking a foreign language and would have been immediately identified as an illegal alien.

I would be an illegal alien at a rap concert, because Nigger, bitch and ho are important words in the Rap language. I’m white, and most Rap artists are black. But race has nothing to do with it. I don’t speak the Rap nation language any more than Rap nationals speak mine. I also don’t speak Mexican or Canadian French. Big deal. I’ve been to Mexico and Canada, and I’ve been able to communicate with the people of those other countries well enough to get along quite nicely.

On the other hand, my main client’s executive secretary calls me Richard, because she can’t bring herself to use the “DREADED ‘D’ WORD”… “Dick.” I don’t know what kind of music she likes. We get along just fine. But I haven’t seen her at any of the concerts I’ve ever attended.

DICK’S DETAILS QUIZ – All answers are in the current “Good Night” PodCast at www.dicksummer.com

1- Who does Kris Kristofferson think about when he’s singing “Me and Bobby McGee?

2- What famous brand video camera can see through clothing ?

3- What did Albert Einstein do with his G string ?

Scoring:

3 right – You may speak in public.

2 right – You may speak in private.

1 right – You may speak but it will be held against you.

0 right – Meet your new neighbor, Mr. Imus.

WARNING – IF YOU ARE EASILY SHOCKED, OFFENDED, AND DISMAYED BY LANGUAGE, STOP…RIGHT…HERE.

According to Constant Dick Summer Connection Connector, ED SWEENY, in the 1700s, the king signed a law that required all ladies of the evening to be examined by doctors before being allowed to ply their trade on the King’s vessels while in port. If the ladies were found to be healthy, they were given licenses to board the vessels. The licenses were issued under the title of “Fornication Under the Consent of the King.” The licenses were called FUCKS for short.

That’s my kind of king. Even if he didn’t make the concert last night.

 

Your comments are welcome either by clicking on the “comments” button below, or sending an email to dick@dicksummer.com

 

 

 

 

 

If you can never remember your cell phone number, and you have a hard time finding your car in the parking lot after a major league ball game, or lots of your friends are saying things like “you’re looking good today”…remember the advice of pitching great Satchel Paige: “Never look back…somebody could be gaining on you.” “Satch” gave us a great example of how to deal with “Louie-Louie Hood.” He used his head, his moves, and his heart. He put his age into a perfect Louie- Louie perspective. He said “Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.”

When he was a kid, “Satch” carried suitcases at the Mobile train station. He was paid by the number of bags he moved, so he rigged a pole and some rope to carry three or four extra bags at once. His buddies thought he looked like a “walking satchel tree,” so they called him “Satch.”

He played in the “Negro Leagues” all year around. He played in the U.S. in the summer and in South America in the winter. He often pitched two full games a day in two different cities. He used to call everybody but his catcher off the field, and just strike out every batter.

The great Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in 1947. In 1948, Satch signed with the Cleveland Indians, and then with the St. Louis Browns. And he had dazzling results in both leagues. He claimed he was in his late fifties at the time, but there is good reason to believe that he was actually about ten years older.

Satch was a winner. He was also a wise man. Some of his other famous quotes that can help us Louie-Louie-ers:

“Money and women. They’re two of the strongest things in the world. The things you do for a woman you wouldn’t do for anything else. Same with money.”

“Ain’t no man can avoid being born average, but there ain’t no man

got to be common.”

“You win a few, you lose a few. Some get rained out. But you got to dress for all of ‘em.”

And the one I like best of all: “Work like you don’t need the money. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like nobody’s watching.”

So here’s to the Louie-Louie Generation. We may shrink, but we’re not ever going to shrivel.

DICK’S DETAILS QUIZ – All answers are in the current PodCast at www.dicksummer.com

 

1- What’s the connection between the Green Hornet and the Lone Ranger ?

2- What was the opening line that the flight instructor used to pick up the lady horseback rider ?

3- What kind of flashes has my Lady Wonder Wench been experiencing ?

Scoring:

3- right – Life Guard Body

2- right – Terminator Body

1- right – Woody Allen Body

0- right – Nobody

So what have we learned ? How about…when you realize you’re over the hill, start peddling down hill like mad so you get up enough speed to make it up over the next hill…which may be a little higher.

Would the flight instructor’s opening line work for you ? Your comments about that, and any other observations you’d like to make, go to Dick@DickSummer.com  

 

 

 

We’ve got to stop looking at words, and start considering intentions. Words have become bogie men in America…Some idiot long ago couldn’t spell Niger, so we got nigger. The word “homo” simply means man in Latin. Bastard. Like it’s my fault I was born ? Bitch. (A very young relative of mine whose mother raises show dogs recently called my Lady Wonder Wench in a complete frenzy of excitement and said, “Nana, we won best bitch.”)

What’s to be afraid of in a word ? If a guy describes somebody as a “nigger,” that guy has done you the favor of telling you right up front that he’s an idiot. Simply by using that word, he’s saved you the time and effort of trying to figure him out. You know right away he’s a jerk.

 

WE DON’T SEE THINGS THE WAY THEY ARE. WE SEE THINGS THE WAY WE ARE! Watch the guys who have the biggest mouths about racism. They are usually the real racists… all the way down inside.

Imus was a miner, a railroad guy and a U.S. Marine who barely escaped a court martial and dishonorable discharge because he and a buddy, aided by an excess of adult beverages no doubt, swiped the stars from a general’s jeep and put them on their own car one night.

His main critic, Al “Sharpie” Sharpton, while he was defending Tawana Brawley in 1981, compared the (Jewish) N.Y. Attorney General, Robert Abrams, to Adolph Hitler. Then he tried linking Gov. Mario Cuomo to organized crime and the K.K.K. He was later accused of being a prominent participant in the 1991 anti Jewish riots in Crown Heights.

My Lady Wonder Wench knows Imus. She sees this as what she calls a “Man vs. Woman” issue. She says “It’s a matter of a man seeing how long he can get away with snickering and pinching at women.”

I really don’t think so. I just see it as a stupid statement by a guy trying to be wise-funny on the radio. But the amazing thing is that it actually got to be a really heated discussion between W.Wench and me. As a matter of fact, I was seriously considering, for just a moment, sending her to the Donna Reed Housewife Summer Training Camp. (Well…not really.) IT’S A JOKE – HONEST. AND NO, I AM NOT PLANNING ON SLEEPING IN THE GARAGE TONIGHT.

One “shocked and angered parent” said…”What if I had my kids in the car when he said that ?” Well, for God’s sake, “Shocked and Angered”, I hope you wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to explain what the words mean and how stupid they are!

Imus is the product of a rough upbringing… probably racist. As I said, he’s not a racist…because he’s way too smart to let himself get stuck in that kind of crap trap. But somewhere down inside, there’s probably still a little kid who heard and remembers stuff like that.

I know from personal experience that sometimes when you’re on the air, your mind is cooking up what you’re going to do next, and you just trust your mouth to make noise for a while till you get to where your head is at. I suspect that’s what happened to Don. There’s more about this theory in the current podcast at www.dicksummer.com .

One of the “Properly Shocked” tv news guys actually said, “Oh my God, think of how crushed those young women must have been.” If that’s true, guess whose fault that is. Idiot.

I’ll guarantee you that none of the young women on the team are Imus listeners. The only way they would ever have known about the whole thing is because tv guys like “Properly Shocked” have beaten this story black and blue. As my Lady Wonder Wench says, “It’s disgusting to watch all the guys on tv trying to protect themselves by running away from Imus.” And she makes another good point when she says, “Any girl who has the guts to do what those girls did on the basketball court is not going to let something like this scar her life.”

Last few points: 1- What’s wrong with being a “ho”? I figure if you’ve got 2 consenting adults and one of them wants to pay to use the other’s body, as long as I’m not one of them, it’s none of my business. And besides, I’ve seen marriages that could be described exactly like that, and so have you. I do tv voice overs because some people like my voice enough to pay me for its use. Pretty guys/girls sell their pictures the same way. (NOTE from WW: there is nothing wrong with being a whore if you so choose. But call me one and you’re dead.)

2- The guy was just a mouth on the radio. Mouthing off on the radio is fun and sometimes profitable, but it is a truly insignificant job. Don’t like what he says ? Turn him off, and don’t buy his sponsor’s stuff. He’ll be gone tomorrow morning. As a matter of fact now he is… BECAUSE THE SPONSORS WALKED. As long as he was making money for CBS/NBC, it really didn’t matter what he said. But hit media guys in the pocketbook, and they immediately become “forces for good in the community.”

By the way, the bible says something nasty about hypocrisy, as I recall. I don’t think “Sharpy” has come to that chapter yet.

But here’s what corks me most: We all know who the I-man is, and who the girls are. And the tv guys certainly devoted plenty of time to making sure everybody now knows about the ever holy and incensed Al Sharpie. But nobody had time to tell us who those ten American soldiers were. Nobody. Remember them ? The young people who died this week in Iraq…because we sent them there to fight…for some reason?

My God, I hope there was some reason.

This just in – SHARPTON VOWS MORE: ‘It is our feeling that this is only the beginning. We must have a broad discussion on what is permitted and not permitted in terms the airwaves’… Developing…

Imus is a flawed “hero” in this soap opera. But he is also the only honest player on the stage.

I like honest.

Dick Summer

Your comments would be welcome, both here on the “Connection” and at dick@dicksummer.com  

The following comments are from media professionals who saw this blog prior to publication:

But Joan saved the day. She managed to find my order in the computer, and she replaced all eight tickets…then gave my Lady Wonder Wench one of those sympathetic “I understand, dear” smiles that one wife gives another about the dumb things their husbands do. If you go to Tradition field, please stop by the ticket office and thank Joan for saving my vacation. We don’t thank people like her enough… because we can’t.

The moment of so much pride came on Sunday. The public address announcer at Tradition Field asked everyone to “Stand and honor America as 8 year old Raquel (Somebody) sings our national anthem.” I don’t remember her last name. I wish I did. She walked out behind home plate and stood in front of 6,000 people in all her 4 foot something, maybe 90 pounds worth of little girl splendor. She was probably the only person in the stadium wearing a dress. Pink, I think, with a little bow on top. She took a deep breath, and started to sing…

“Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,” It was a little girl’s voice…with just a hint that in a few years, it might sound a bit like Whitney Houston…but not yet.

“What so proudly we hail, at the twilight’s last gleaming.” I started thinking about how proud my Lady Wonder Wench and I are of our two little girls…grown up women now.

“Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, were so gallantly streaming”… The old guy in the row in front of me had one arm around his wife, and his other hand was holding a very ancient baseball cap over his heart. “U.S. ARMY” were the letters on the cap…probably circa World War 2. He stood as straight and tall and proud as my dad used to stand.

“And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air”… The old guy began singing along with Raquel…very quietly and a little off key…but singing. And Wonder Wench started singing along with him…singing and crying…and I knew she was thinking about her brother Bob. His simple white cross stands in the sand behind Otis Air Force Base on Cape Cod.

“Gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there”…More and more of the people around us started singing…very quietly and a little off key…but singing…together.

“Oh say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave”… All of us were singing now. Very quietly and a little off key…but singing. All of us. All around the field.

“O’er the land of the free”…Even I was singing. Quietly. Off key, I guess. But singing…and thinking about my Uncle Joe the B-17 navigator, and my brother Geoff who did a second tour in Vietnam because he knew the experience he got the first time around would save a couple of buddies. He was right. It cost him a chunk of his leg…but it doesn’t seem to matter to him at all. He’s another guy who stands very straight and proud.

“And the home of the brave.” We all sang it together…quietly…a little off key…. Little Raquel, my Lady Wonder Wench, me with my jacket that says BROOKLYN across the front, and about 6,000 other people who just came to enjoy a nice spring training baseball game together.

It wasn’t a huge majestic sound. It was really kind of quiet…and a little off key. But it was…all of us…together. I don’t think any of us expected that.

There was an almost embarrassed moment of stunned silence. Then someone in the bleachers cut loose with one of those long, loud, two fingers between the teeth whistles, and the place exploded with applause, and laughs… more than a few tears…and so much pride. So much pride we felt at that moment…together.

You sometimes get a lot more than you expect when you go to a spring training baseball game. Yes. Thank you for asking. It was a very good vacation. 

DICK’S DETAILS QUIZ – All the answers are in the current PodCast at www.dicksummer.com  .

1- What does a star fish have in common with many of our politicians ?

2- Why should you “go soak your head” ?

3- What should you do when your Love Boat springs a leak ?

Scoring – 3 right – You’re a Met.

2 right – You’re a Little Leaguer.

1 right – You’re working at a ball park concession.

0 right – You’re a Yankee.

REMEMBER – Middle age sneaks up on us like a windshield sneaks up on a bug in August. But Louie – Louie Generation guys know that wisdom and a few well worn moves can always defeat youth and skill. Well…almost always.

Would love to hear from you. Dick@dickSummer.com