Dick Summer Connection

This week’s podcast has been delayed by the snowstorm. My son David posts the podcasts for me. He lives in Massachusetts, where small furry animals are in big demand to run around in merry go round cages to produce electricity. David’s small furry animal isn’t up to the task. So he doesn’t have electricity. When he does…the Willy Podcast will be up and raring to go.

I’m sitting here in by big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, and as you can probably tell, I like it here at home. That’s the main reason why my Lady Wonder Wench and I don’t take many traveling vacations. We like being home. Willie Nelson likes being on the road. Willie’s current road trip included a theater not too far away from here last night, so we grabbed a couple of seats because we both like his music. The theater was packed. Lots of the people had long beautiful hair, very fancy hats, and stylish boots. And there were quite a few women there too.

 Willy is quite a sight. His theme song is a song he wrote called, On The Road Again. It goes, “On the road again…just can’t wait to get on the road again…the life I love is making music with my friends.”

 Willie has been down a lot of roads in that big bus of his…and not all of them have been paved highways. He’s pushing 80 now, and he looks like leather. He came on that honestly. He was 7 when he started picking cotton in Texas. And he’s never forgotten how hard that was. And that gave him roots, humility…and a great, graceful, greatfulness for the people who love his music, buy his records and come to his concerts.

 It seems to me an exceptional number of Willie’s people last night were in wheel chairs, or had to use crutches. But they didn’t want to stay home. They wanted to travel with Willie on his road again. It was a happy reminder that even though our politicians and television talking heads are telling us to be afraid, most of us aren’t buying it. It doesn’t matter how tough it is…wheel chairs…crutches…whatever it takes, those folks were climbing back up on Willie’s happy bus…because they like being happy. Sounds silly, but it’s really not…think about it. 

 Willie looks like both a cowboy and an Indian…a redneck and a hippie. A sheriff and an outlaw. He’s a complicated guy….A first class poet and a pot head punk. He’s a wise guy, and a very WISE man. And most people don’t realize what a really good musician he is. I noticed he has a new guitar now. He called his old one Trigger. He played it so long that he literally wore a hole in it where the pick hit. His house burned down once, and legend is that he ran into the flames to save that old guitar. And I wouldn’t put it past him.

 He plays guitar like a classical musician sometimes…carefully …eyes closed…quietly.  But all country guitarists are called pickers. And there are times when Willie pounds on that guitar like a picker supplying his own power for that big old bus, as it’s roaring down the road…while he and his buddies are waving at the cars going by, and singing their song…the one that goes…on the road again, like a band of gypsies and the best of friends…making the big old world turn our way…and our way is on the road again. Willy does things his own way. 

He’s a Louie-Louie Generation guy, and a good example what happens when you follow the advice given to all of us, by Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation. Louie always says, “We should learn from our lettuce. Laugh out loud. Laughing is good for you. And if people don’t laugh with you, you’re still a head.”

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

1- What does Big Louie say we must remember about the word “wife?”

2- What makes grownups yawn more than babies do ?

3- Why should Swedish guys stay away from horses?

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

 Willie Nelson reminds me of a grown up version of the kind of kid whose parents try to show up at parent- teacher meetings under an assumed name. He’s still got quite a twinkle in his wrinkle. I’ll bet when he was a kid, if his girlfriend told him he needed to be more romantic, he’d take that to mean he should go out and get two more girlfriends. That comes across in his music. One of his big hits was called “To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before.” It was a good song. A it was about a couple of Louie-Louie Generation guys, lifting a glass of good wine, to some good memories, of good and bad women in their past. But when I played it on the air, the phones went nuts…members of the forces for good in the community freaked at the idea of two guys who had lots of girlfriends in their lives. IN…SENSITIVE they squeaked.

 They must have missed a song Willie wrote that goes, “How’s your new love ? I hope he’s doing fine. I heard you told him, that you’ll love him till the end of time. Now that’s the same thing you told me…seems like just the other day. Ain’t it funny. How time slips away. He sings another song they missed too. It goes, “Maybe I didn’t love you quite as often as I could have. And maybe I didn’t treat you quite as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best, girl, I’m sorry I was blind. But you were always on my mind. You were always on my mind. 

 Willie’s real. He’s screwed up big time in his life. There’s another country singer by the name of Little Jimmy Dickens. Jimmy isn’t quite five feet tall. He says he’s Willlie Nelson after taxes. You’ve heard about Willie’s problems with the IRS, and drugs, and all kinds of stuff that outrages the members of the forces for good in the community. I don’t think he’s proud of those things, but he’s not apologizing either. He’s you and me. A good guy who treats people the way he wants to be treated, works hard, loves his work, and isn’t afraid of his dreams. He’s about getting knocked down hard, but always getting up to try again.

 I know a lady like that. I put her story in the Personal Audio CD called Night Connections, and in the current podcast. I saw the story happen in a convenience store in Lima, Pennsylvania. I don’t know what happened to her. I hope she at least spent a little time with that guy. He’s a nice young guy. He’s younger than she is by a few years. But maybe that didn’t get in the way…because as Willie says…it’s funny, how time slips away. That story is from the Night Connections personal audio CD. If you like it, you can just download it from the Night Connections icon on the home page.

 I’m glad the road took Willie’s big, happy bus around our way last night. It was good to get on board…and listen to him sing about loving and laughing, crying and losing…and about getting up…no matter what…and going back on the road again. With your best friend.

 My Lady Wonder Wench is my best friend. She was sitting next to me…looking all lovely and soft…and happy…I almost lost her in an accident a few years ago. She’s still having some trouble getting around. But she made it to the theater with me. She has beautiful blue eyes. One of the songs Willie sang almost tore me up. It’s called “Blue Eyes Cryin’ In The Rain.” It’s about a guy who’s hoping to meet his lady again…someday…“Way up yonder.”

 The reason the song hit me like that is, the theater is right down the block from the hospital where they saved my lady’s life.

There are some things only a real Louie-Louie Lad can do … like take you to a Willie Nelson concert and really understand and enjoy the music.  Even when a knee is hurting like crazy.  And laugh at the silly stuff people do at a concert, while he holds your hand when On The Road Again is played ‘cause he remembers being on that road for days on end, waiting to find out if I really was going to make it.

 I did.

 And while he never did see I Love Jeannie, he will now have a whole bunch of shows to watch, thanks to another Louie-Louie Lad by the name of Dennis… gosh, you all are quick …

 And if he twitches his nose …

 Or if Olga really does show up …

It gets dark early these days. I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather pappa chair in my living room, looking out the big sliding door window.  It was just about this time last year that George W. Bush and Barak Obama came to my door, begging for trick or treat candy. I gave them some, and in no time they were back for more. Just like in real life. It seems that most of the top Halloween masks these days are the faces of politicians…which I think is appropriate. Kids are pretending to be politicians, and politicians are acting like kids…Kids who have nuclear bombs, and very expensive campaign contributors.  Hard to think of anything much scarier than that. The kids knock it off after Halloween. Unfortunately, the politicians keep right on going.

I like the dark. Diversions dissolve in the dark. Diversions like your aching back, your visiting mother in law, and even your job. If you’re not afraid of the dark, and you let it dissolve the diversions in your life, you begin to see some faces looking at you. And sometimes one of those faces is…yours. It can be spooky. Especially the look in your eyes. But seeing your own face looking back at you in the dark…can really be an eye opener to some of the things you didn’t know about yourself.

When I was at WNBC Radio in New York, I got to know a real live witch. A cigar smoking, truck driving, witchy woman. Man, what a woman. Her real name is Lisa, but her friends call her Olga. Olga the Witch has long black hair, a voice like a purr with fur, and a long slow motion smile. I didn’t see Olga walk into the studio. I just looked up, and she was suddenly standing there in studio 2b at WNBC radio a lot of years ago. The idea that she just “appeared” was probably just my imagination. Maybe.

The 10PM to Midnight portion of my show was music, and Midnight to 2 AM was talk. And I always liked to have “ordinary” people who did extraordinary things as guests on the talk portion. So just before Halloween, I asked for mail from folks who figured they qualified, and Olga’s note said, “I’m a witch.” It was a slam dunk.

The lights at WNBC studios were New York Neon, and Olga purred something about how comfortable we’d be if I’d turn off the overheads and do our interview by the light of a candle she’d brought. Olga worked well in the dark…with just a candle. She liked candelight…enough light so you could just see a persons face…and especially a person’s eyes. And if it weren’t for the Federal Disc Jockey Regulations, plus the fact that my crack NBC tech/accomplice Vic Lombardo was only one heavy breath away, and of course the certain knowledge that my lady Wonder Wench was listening, things could have gotten a little out of hand right there. A lesson I had learned before, but it still kind of surprised me with how suddenly it hit.

Olga was fascinating. I mean in other ways too. She’s a follower of the ancient pagan religion called Wicca. It’s about love of nature, gentleness toward humans and animals, and very ancient legends about tall trees, shadow creatures, and the moon. No devil worship, no broomsticks, no haggle tooth hags. Olga is beautiful, smart, sensitive and loyal. I invited her back for several shows and eventually got to know her pretty well. As a matter of fact, she became a real friend to my Lady Wonder Wench, our son Mark and me.

Mark was 14 when Olga came into our lives. He often came to the station with W. Wench and me on Friday nights. Friday nights were “Mouth vs. Ear” nights on my show. “Mouth vs. Ear” was a quiz show. We always won, because we cheated. It was a lot of fun.

Besides My Lady W. Wench and Mark, there were lots of friends in the studio with us on Olga’s first night as a member of the “Mouth” quiz show team. And she was lively, happy, and bra-less when she threw her arms around Mark and gave him a loud, juicy, bouncy kiss smack dab on the mouth.

Mark was big with the GIRLS at 14. But Olga was all woman. Mark’s ears wiggled, his hands stuck out from his arms at a strange angle, and he didn’t start breathing again until sometime late Saturday afternoon.

That was lots of years ago, but when I asked Mark yesterday if he remembered, he said something like, “ooohhh yessss.” And his eyes turned a little purple.

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

1-      Why does Big Louie think you should take your clothes off ?

2-      What do astronauts and strippers have in common ?

3-      Why does the FDA say we’ve been, “Foiled again ?“

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

Our “Mouth vs Ear” friends and I had a softball team called “The Cheaters.” (Remember, we always won the quiz because we cheated.) Olga the witch never played, but she came to watch and witch. We won a lot of games that year. Which I attributed to either the lively ball or the way Olga twitched her nose. A year or so after she joined our crew, Olga fell in love and moved away with her guy. We’ve lost track of her over the years, and I was wondering…this podcast gets around now and maybe someone listening this might know her. I don’t want to give you her last name for obvious reasons. And that wouldn’t be necessary anyway. Because there’s only one Olga like this warm and wonderful witchy woman. If you know her, I’d appreciate it if you’d ask her to drop an email to Dick@DickSummer.com . Wonder Wench, Mark and I really miss that cigar smoking, truck driving, fur purring, witchy woman.

Witches like candles and dark places. I  think that’s why people are sometimes afraid of witchcraft. Some people are afraid of the enormous power of the dark…the middle of the night. I loved being on the air at night. There’s a very short story about the  dark in the Bedtime Stories personal audio cd.

The dark dissolves distractions. The dark was the power that helped me make the connection with the people listening in the middle of those radio nights. The daylight is distracting.  That’s when you do the things you’ve got to do. Go to the places you’ve got to go. It’s like the “got tos” dissolve in the dark…in the night. The distractions disappear. You get to re-connect with…yourself. And if you get lucky…somebody else. That’s the way it felt to me…sitting in studio 2b in the middle of an otherwise dark New York skyscraper…talking to people…all across America. People who wanted to connect…and re-connect…in the night. They were just voices on the phone, but to me they all had faces…and I could see them clearly in the dark. Especially…for some reason…their eyes. 

“The Dark 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.

You can never tell what kind of magic will happen when it gets dark early…like on Halloween. A beautiful, sexy witch/warlock might show up at your front door in about ten minutes. Somebody might decide to give you the entire first season of “I Dream Of Jeannie” on dvds for Christmas/Hannukah/Quanza/Solstice. The Wicked Witch of the West might bring back your ruby slippers. On the other hand, some politician might show up and just take all your candy, then come back and ask for more.

Or…since diversions dissolve in the dark…maybe one of the faces that looks back at you out of the Halloween dark…might be yours…without all the diversions that usually take so much of your attention. What would your own face tell you… without it’s usual mask. Especially those eyes. You might see a tear. Or maybe they’ll look away. Or maybe they’ll just give you a funny little Haloween witchy, wink.

Point of information here:   yes, I am a chicken when it comes to stink bugs but I have never run screaming from the room.  I have never screamed … well, not exactly … and I did not make my Louie-Louie Lad get up on the ladder and fall off.  If you have not yet encountered a stink bug (and you will), just imagine a small armored vehicle the birds won’t eat that sticks to anything but really likes white (like my blouse) and buzzes when it is in amorous mode.  It flies at your face and likes to crawl inside things … like towelsor hanging shirts.  And it doesn’t want to let go, which is where the lance of doom comes in.

 Now I like the lance; I wholeheartedly condone it.  But I do not like being anywhere in the vicinity when it is being wielded.  For some strange reason, Big Louie’s Lad gets a little crazy with it in his hand … and it’s him I run from, not the bug …

I was sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room last night, watching a stink bug crawling up on the wall toward the ceiling. I knew that if I mentioned this to my Lady Wonder Wench, who was sitting in her usual spot on the couch…right under the bug…she would run right out of her socks into the kitchen, and she’d trip and hurt herself. I didn’t want that to happen. On the other hand, I was a bit concerned that if I didn’t tell her about it, the bug might fall down from the ceiling, and land in her lap. In which case she would skip the running part, pull a Star Trek move…and just kind of beam herself into some parallel universe, leaving only her t shirt, skirt, socks, and hair behind on the couch, as sad reminders of the wonderful, sexy, happy life we had when she lived here in this universe with me.

 Fortunately, something she was cooking started making a strange hissing sound, so she got up normally, and gracefully walked into the kitchen to quiet it down, giving me the opportunity to climb up on the couch pillows…a delicate balancing act…try it if you don’t think so. You find yourself trying to hang on to the wall. And that doesn’t really work. But I knew I had to climb up on the back of the couch to reach the bug. For some reason it seemed like a good idea to grab a picture frame with my left hand, to help me  pull my other foot up so I could stand on the back of the couch with a yardstick in my hand so I could give the bug a deadly thwap. I swung, and missed, the picture frame broke, I lost my balance, and fell down on her new end table, breaking a leg. The table’s not mine. As my Lady’s knight in shining armor, it was to say the least a smudge on my escutcheon.

 For those of you who may never have seen an actual escutcheon, it’s a knight’s shield…where he puts his coat of arms…as opposed to his tin coat which is where he puts his real arms…so they won’t get cut. Those knights had lots of arms. Because they were all once adolescent boys.

 As you know, when girls become adolescent, they develop breasts. And according to many ladies who have been through the process, when boys become adolescent, they see those new developments. And through the simple process of evolution, and heavily humming hormones, those boys quickly develop extra hands. A lot of extra hands. And  of course they then need a lot of extra arms on which to hang those hands. That’s why when the military was made up of only guys, we began calling them an “Army.” 

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

1-    How might we be able to stop people from stealing ?

2-    Why do we have to admire Greek hangovers ?

3-    What do exotic dancers have to do to shake off 144 calories?

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

 Stink bugs are smart. I think they send out scouts to see how tall you are. That way, when they report back, the rest of the  Bug Brigade knows exactly how high they can sit on our walls sothat they are just out of the reach of those of us who want to be our Ladies knights in shining armor, thereby luring us into climbing on the backs of our couches, trying to hang on to the wall, falling off, damaging both our escutcheons, and our furniture. I swear, I heard that damn little bug giggle when I hit the floor.

 But us knights don’t just lie on our fannies on the floor when we’re insulted like that. No sir. We usually scramble to our feet, hit our heads on a lamp, knock over a cup of coffee that was sitting on our laptop computers, and proclaim some very naughty words that our neighbors down the block probably haven’t heard since they were in the fifth grade…and going through adolescence.

 Of course, when all else fails, sometimes…one of us knights actually allows a thought to get through the helmet on all that shining armor. I was standing there looking at the bug…laughing it’s little stinker off…just out of my reach…when I saw a broomstick, just minding its own business, standing in the corner…with some duct tape wrapped around the bottom. I was going to use it in a stick ball game. But… “Sir Richard” I sayeth unto myself…”That looks like a knight in shining armor’s lance.” And so it did. And so it was, that I took some more duct tape, wrapped it sticky side out at the top of the lance…and invented…the Lance Of Doom. Mr. Bug didn’t understand. And with one carefully aimed flick of the wrist, Sir Richard…took his revenge. Revenge can be very sweet. 

There’s a story called “Revenge” in the Night Connections 3 personal audio cd, and in the current podcast. It’s about the kind of revenge only a woman can take. Women are better than men at taking revenge. And the woman in this story was…exquisite. Which says a lot about her. She was smart, hurt, beautiful, and strong. Very strong. But it also says something about the guy involved. She knew he’d care… if she were carrying his child…forthe rest of his life. Some guys wouldn’t.

 “Revenge” is from the Night Connections 3 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 3 icon on the home page.

 Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie- Louie Generation always reminds us Louie-Louie Generation guys that there are lots of ways besides killing bugs, and opening jars to be your lady’s knight in shining armor. He says, touch her hair when you pass her chair. Kiss her on the forehead. Listen to her. Keep her secrets. Take her out to dinner. Call her. Make sure your friends know how proud you are that she’s your girl. Tell her she’s beautiful. Make her feel safe with you. Dance with her…even if you’re not a good dancer. Sing to her…even if you sing off key. Kiss her in the rain. Hold her hand. Write her quick love notes. Be her escape. Remember her birthday, and the day you first met…and her favorite color. Touch her cheek…then brush her eyebrows with your lips. Tell her she’s your star. If she must cry, make sure you always have room for her in your arms. Bring her flowers. Let her fall asleep in your arms. Give her a piggy back ride. Look into her eyes for a full minute…and then slowly…smile. If you love her…tell her. Tell her how wonderful it is that she shares such a sexy, happy life with you. Tell her how glad you are that she lives here in this universe with you…at this moment in time…and she will…for every moment in time…forever.

 I bet if you do that, she’ll give you her T shirt to tie on your helmet, the next time you have to go into one of life’s real battles. I also bet that the shirt will still be warm. And so will you.

Well, if he can wear a bra, I can enlarge my … oh … I can’t?

Y’know that guy in the Night Connections story who never let her get to the party?  Yup, I have me one of them.  And I am not complaining …

Doesn’t anyone READ their emails before they send them out?  Maybe that is that why lovely Russian girls want me?  No, Louie-Louie Lad, I will not send those to you.  We already have a Russian sister-in-law.

 And I knew and loved your mother … do not even think of going there.  Her’s wouldn’t fit you correctly anyway …

I just got an email that knocked me right out of my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room. It said, quote, “Richard, why are you wearing your mother’s bra? My head went zap…and flashed me the most bizarre picture I have ever seen . Perhaps flashed isn’t the proper word here. The email went on to say that I must modernize my bra, with a seamless microfiber pullover model that features a ribbed band that eliminates rolls, wires and adjusting straps. And for God’s sake…I shouldn’t wear an old fashioned bra that hooks in the back or front. When my eyes stopped rotating long enough for me to regain conscious thought, I couldn’t help wondering where the hell does this thing does hook.

 I was going to ask my Lady Wonder Wench about that, because I mean that’s an important piece of information for a guy who has worked hard and long to achieve the digital dexterity necessary for certification as one of the few remaining one hand un-hookers of the Louie-Louie Generation. But the wise words of Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation rose…calm, cool and in control…from the clattering chaos in my brain. Louie always says, “The experienced husband always thinks twice before he says nothing.” Louie has a wonderful way of dealing with stress. He says, you should handle stress like a dog. If you can’t eat it, or play with it, just pee on it and walk away. Like a lot of guys my age, I sometimes handle stress like that four or five times a night.

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

1- How would you describe a lazy and lecherous guy ?

2- If a vacuum cleaner sucks, it that good ?

3- Where’s the safest place to run in an earthquake ?

4- Why do they lock gas station bathrooms ?

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

 I was kidding with you a few minutes ago about handling stress the way a dog handles it. Actually, people seem more stressed than most dogs. But I really was a no kidding therapist for a long time, and I developed a serious system for dealing with stress that worked very well. I use it myself fairly frequently, including once in a rather nasty weather related incident in my little airplane. I wrote an article about that for a flying magazine, and I’ll be glad to send you a freebie copy if you’re interested. It’s called, “Guts For Guys,” but it works just as well for women. I called it, “Guts For Guys, because literally 95% of American pilots are guys. And as I said, it was written for a flying magazine. If you’d like a copy, just drop me an email. Dick@Dicksummer.com. No strings. I just thought you might find it helpful.

 By the way, I’m not wearing my mom’s bra. Nor do I want to. I have never had the least inclination to wear my mom’s bra. I never even wanted to see my mom wear her own bra. It does seem to me, that hooking them in the back must make putting them on more difficult than is necessary. My Lady Wonder Wench had a couple of blouses that buttoned up the back. And I must admit I enjoyed watching her button them. Reaching around in the back made her look very…nice.

 There’s a story in the Night Connections personal audio cd, about a guy who was watching his wife dress for a party one night. And it kind of got the better of him. It’s called “The Quick Change Artist.” I think that the only thing more beautiful than watching a woman melt, is the feeling of holding her in your arms while she’s doing it…and breathing the scent of her freshly shampooed hair.

 “The Quick Change Artist” 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 opening page.

 Let me be clear about this. I base my fashion sense on what doesn’t itch or get stuck in uncomfortable places. I am nothing like Tom Jones…who we saw performing a couple of years ago. His pants were so tight, he must have trimmed his toenails to get into them. I bet he wears his pants out from the inside. Of course, Pimple People guys take it to the other extreme, with their baggy combat trousers barely covering their butts, their spiked hair and their nose rings. I think they dress that way to make sure they don’t have to go any where with their parents.

 The way you wear your pants says a lot about a guy’s age. Pants seem to creep up on a guy over time. Some old guys look like just a pair of pants and a head. But not me. I am sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, wearing a t shirt with an orange and blue Mets logo, a comfortable gray pair of sweat pants, black socks, bedroom slippers, and underwear briefs. I like being comfortable.

 Fancy clothes can cause trouble…and even stress. I have a buddy who’s wife gave him a very fancy sport coat as a surprise. He came home early last Thursday, and he found it just hanging there on a kitchen chair. He thought about it for a bit, and that’s when the stress kicked in.

 That offer of the freebie stress reduction technique is for real, by the way. It’s called “Guts For Guys,” and to get a free copy, just send me an email… Dick@DickSummer.com  . There are no strings attached. It just works well, and I thought you might like to have it.

 That’s it. I want to be very clear about this to who ever is sending me e-mails from the Genie bra company. Especially the one I got today that says quote, “Richard, why are you wearing your mother’s bra.”

 I AM NOT WEARING MY MOTHER’S BRA.

I have a sister-in-law who lives in North Carolina and when she comes to visit she brings things … like  pecan swirl bread … which is, to coin an old New York phrase, to die for … sigh … she is such a NICE lady …

 And she is not missing any hevele.  Her “dis” if I know my brother-in-law, is just fine and dandy.  I might be a little turbed if it weren’t for the fact that when my Louie-Louie Lad gets off on a kick like this, he just goes large tances to reach his point and frequently covers that the whole thing was useless.  Tinctly.

 Ain’t this fun?

I’m sitting in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room, mourning the loss of my hevele. I know it’s missing, because my friend Susan, who runs the post office down the block just asked me about it. Susan and I have been friends since I awarded her my first Gruntled Post Office Employee Of The Month award. It was a bar of Hershey Dark Chocolate.

 She is usually very up-beat and pleasant. But today she looked at me and said, “Why do you look so disheveled?” Disheveled ? Now, I don’t take a bow every time I pass a mirror, but on the other hand, I don’t think I look like my hobby is stepping on rakes either. And I am in reasonably good health…my doctor recently assured me that regardless of my age, I am still not showing many of the early signs of mummification. And I reminded Susan of what Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation always says, “It’s wasteful to throw a whole face away, just because it’s banged up a bit.”

 Disheveled she called me. Let’s examine the word. The prefix ”dis,” essentially reverses the rest of the word. For example, if you are dis-abled, you are not able to do something. If I dis-cover you, I’m looking at you naked. If you dis-appear…zap…you appear to be gone. So if Susan says I look dis-heveled, that must mean I appear to be missing my hevele.

 If that’s the case, then if the word dis-crete means you are socially inhibited, then you might say a buddy who just had a bachelor party probably spent a pretty crete night. If instead of treating someone with dis-tain, you gain great respect for that person, you might say, “You know I have more and more tain for you.” And when a lady is the exact opposite of disgusting, you can reasonably look at her, and tell her softly…”You look absolutely gusting tonight.”

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

1- How did Isaac Newton’s mother think he’d make his fortune ?

2- How did CBS make sure their coverage of a recent golf tournament would include lots of birdies ?

3- What nasty crack did I avoid, having to do with Fannie Mae

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

 Disheveled, Susan called me. And that dis-turbed me. Which means it upset my turb.  Ok, so I’m no George Clooney. But it’s been a while since anybody I first meet, asks me if anybody else was hurt in my accident. I am not even a struggling hair farmer. I have plenty of it…although I will admit, some of it growing in unusual places. And by the way what it is with women and guy’s hair? My Lady Wonder Wench likes a violinist by the name of Andre Reiu, so we went to see him when he was in town recently. He was standing up there on stage with his hair growing all the way down around his belt…and he was waving it around like a flag in a tornado…and you could hear all the women in the audience… including my Lady Wonder Wench whispering to each other…”Oh isn’t he wonderful ?” Then she turned to me and said…”You need a haircut, you look disheveled.” I said “Be careful or I’ll stand up and start making up my own dance moves.”

 There’s a story about another couple who went to a concert, in the Night Connections Personal Audio Cd. Well…they didn’t actually go…and that’s a big part of the story. The lady involved  was a wonderfully wise woman. A tired, female, hurting, human…who does woman things…and probably very well. She probably understands the facial expressions on a cat, and she can tell the difference between beige, off white, and egg shell. And most important…even though she certainly isn’t happy about her tired feet, and silly obligations, and even her first gray hair…she knows…even after a lot of years…that she can still squeeze some major juice into the life of her equally tired guy…just when he’s most thirsty for it. I like her. A lot.

 “The Couples Concert” 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, download it from the Night Connections icon on the home page.

 There’s good and bad about being a member of the Louie-Louie Generation. Some days we look a little…disheveled. Some Louie-Louie Ladies go for face lifts…Big Louie advises against that. He says, “There’s no guarantee that when you get your face lifted, there won’t be one under it that looks exactly the same.” And some of us Louie-Louie lads are experimenting with things like support sideburns. And Aerobics…that’s big with lots of us. But not with me. I’m not big on aerobics. And I just saw a statistic that justifies my attitude. It seems that every seven minutes of every day, someone in an aerobics class pulls a hamstring. Which leads me to ask if you’ve heard the one about why the aerobics instructor crossed the road ? The answer is that somebody on the other side could still walk.

 So Susan the post office lady says I look disheveled. Actually at the moment, I must admit that I look a more like an un-made bed. Which is appropriate. Because my Lady Wonder Wench just came out of the shower, wearing her bathrobe, and bunny slippers, and she has a towel wrapped around her hair…and I’m here to tell you that her hevele looks just fine. In fact she is looking exceptionally gusting…so I have high hopes for enjoying a very crete time tonight.

 And I wish the same for you.