Archive for April, 2007

The Dick Summer Connection – April 29,2007

Saturday, April 28th, 2007

This is not the first time in our history we have faced dangers like the “N word,” the “B word” and the “H word.” But we are now threatened with an assault by a new and terrible threat…THE DREADED “D” WORD. (More about this new danger at the bottom of this blog.)Civilization as we know it is tottering at the tipping point. Please be careful if you say that out loud. Forces For Good In The Community may be lurking, and they are always ready to be shocked, dismayed and offended; and if you’re caught, they may insist on punishing you by sticking your tongue into the nearest hot socket. (Now that I think about it, that might not be too bad, because the resulting hairdo might win you a place on American Idol.)

It is time for the Louie-Louie generation to put some things into perspective. Who or what is the Louie-Louie generation?… you might ask… if you have not been reading this blog or listening to our PodCast. Louie-Louie generation guys and their ladies went to soda fountains, bought gas for 13 cents a gallon, and went to double feature movies with a couple of cartoons and a newsreel thrown in. Of course, we also did the “duck and cover” drill to put our school desks between us and a thermonuclear bomb, and counted on our fingers instead of using a calculator to pass algebra 2…and there wasn’t any duct tape.Musically, we had Elvis Presley’s “Swivel Hips,” Chuck Berry’s “Duck Walk,” and a little later, the “Mop Tops” who called themselves the Beatles.And the Forces For Good (etc.) called it the “Music of the devil !” “The END OF CIVILIZATION!” said our Social Studies teachers . Of course, we also had Lawrence Welk, Liberace, and Pat Boone, who were much better, according to The Forces (etc.) And do peg pants, duck tails, mini skirts, ironing your hair, and tye dyes mean anything to you?

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

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 ?


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.


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.


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The Dick Summer Connection – April 22, 2007

Saturday, April 21st, 2007

Things are not as easy as they were when I was wearing my Coney Island lifeguard body…which was simply the height of hunk-hood. Just clipping my toe nails is a good example. It used to be a simple job. Now each toe is a three breath affair, and the thumb toe is good for at least 5…because you have to bend over all the way…like in half. Clipping toe nails is so painful for a Louie-Louie generation guy that I wouldn’t be surprised if priests started assigning it for your more enjoyable sins. I can hear it now: “You did WHAT ? How often ?? Ok. Say three rosaries, and clip your toe nails…and send the clippings to me at the rectory because I want to be sure you do your thumb toes too…that will teach you to have so much fun.”Lots of Louie-Louie Ladies are having face lifts these days. Some people think that looks dumb. But if it makes you feel better, I say go for it. Just don’t overdo it…like Joan Rivers. She is a talented and kind person, but she looks like if she sneezed, her ears would fall off. Our neighbor Allison told my Lady Wonder Wench that she’s using bee pollen on her skin to keep it looking young. That’s good. At least if she sneezes she’ll pollinate a couple of flowers.

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


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 ?


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  




The Dick Summer Connection – 4-15-07

Saturday, April 14th, 2007

Tens of thousands of Iraqi people burn our flag and march through the streets of Baghdad screaming “Go home, Americans.” Ten more brave young Americans give their lives on the same day, because we sent them there to fight…for some reason. But the biggest news of the week is that a guy who makes millions of dollars a year for making funny-stupid comments on the radio, made an un-funny- stupid comment on the radio.As we say in Brooklyn, “Enough, already.” For the record… Don Imus is a decent guy. I worked with him for years at WNBC. He is a pain in the tail, but he’s not a racist; he’s good to his family; and he sees to it that his money does a lot of good for a lot of people…of all colors and religions. I have a terrible temptation to take on some of the guys with the biggest mouths calling for Don’s head. Especially Al “The Sharpie” Sharpton, who has made a career out of anti white/anti Jewish racism… but that would just speed up the merry-go-round.

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 .

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 out. “Sharpie” and his crowd are in. And THEY will “discuss” what THEY think should be allowed on the air.This was never about Imus. It wasn’t about the Rutgers Women either. It was a plain and simple media and political power grab.

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  

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

Wow! very interesting read and you open and close with what really matters most …the needless casualties of war. The fixation on celebrity news is out of control … CBS had no problem with Imus’s crass comments until sponsors started bailing. Well-written and superbly-stated Dick

take care ..

Paul in Nova Scotia

Excellent stuff, Dick. I wondered when you’d say something about your colleague. I don’t listen to Imus, not on my local station, plus, I rarely listen to commercial radio except during NPR pledge drive weeks or to hear the Cubs games. So, I don’t know Imus from Amos, and that probably makes me a racist if someone assumes I meant to say Amos ‘n Andy.

I do recall hearing someone on a NYC station back in the 1970s–right after I got out of the Army–doing a bit about some Reverend and his Church of the Gooey Death and Discount House of Worship….it was funny, I laughed, I moved to the Midwest where that stuff ain’t funny. Was that Rev. Imus? If so, I’m shocked, shocked thirty tears too late or too soon.

Ho? We’s all ho’s… My most recent V/O gig was as Gabby the Groundhog, a PSA cartoon for Call 1-800 (something) before you dig. This week, I paid a guy to dig out my driveway for new gravel, didn’t call and cut a cable…I’m a stupid ho.

As for Sharpton, he’s no Ho, he’s a pimp.

–Paul B.

But how do you really feel Dick???
Mel Phillips
blog site:

As far as Imus is concerned, whom I’ve never met, his career has been built on saying outrageous stuff. And at first I though he did it for publicity…like showing up on Al Sharpton’s radio (?) show. I think his comment was “insult du jour”, nothing more…and that’s why radio’s have tunning dial and on/off switches. But The Al’s and femi-Nazi’s got their teeth into it…and our country is going down the toilet. S.G.


Can we still say Westward Ho ?

Will Santa need to find a new laugh?

I’m SO glad I’m not on the radio anymore B.B.

The Dick Summer Connection – 4-8-07

Saturday, April 7th, 2007

You caught me by surprise…lots of folks sent e-mails hoping my Lady Wonder Wench and I had a good vacation. We did. Caught the last week of New York Mets Spring training in Florida. Some funny stuff about it in the current PodCast. There was one moment that made me so proud… and one that would have been a disaster except for a nice lady by the name of Joan, who works at the Mets’ Tradition Field ticket office. I bought our “right behind home plate” tickets roughly ten minutes after they went on sale in January, and stapled them to our calendar so I wouldn’t lose them. But I got so used to seeing them there that I forgot them until I was at about 30,000 feet going about 500 miles per hour in the plane on the way to Florida. THEY WERE GONE…. impossible to replace right behind home plate tickets to four games that we’d been looking forward to since Beltran struck out to end the Mets hopes for the National League pennant last fall. The word stupid does not begin to describe the feeling.For one fleeting second, I wondered if there were any terrorists aboard who might be talked into using that forbidden can of hair spray that they smuggled past the x-ray machines, to force the plane to turn around and return to Philadelphia so I could get the tickets. As you know, you can always tell the terrorists at an airport because they all carry hidden cans of hair spray. I can only assume their plan is to threaten to spray the pilot’s back with enough of the stuff so that he sticks to his seat and can’t get up to go to the bathroom unless he does what they tell him to do. I was All Shook Up.

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  .

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.