Archive for November, 2013


Monday, November 18th, 2013

As Big Louie says in my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot: If you have some moving parts left…MOVE ‘EM. Take all your moving parts, and someone else’s too, to a theater and see Last Vegas. The humor will be lost on the Pimple People, and the Dreary Drones will miss the point of the last scene…which is a real shame. AND there are some lovely scantily clad ladies to make it even sweeter.  

I’m not a big movie goer, but this is a blast you shouldn’t miss.

Busted !

Saturday, November 16th, 2013

I got busted yesterday on the Amtrak to New York City. It wasn’t my fault. She protruded into my attention span, startled my hormones, and momentarily stirred my testosterone soup. It was momentary. It’s gone now. Pffft. It was your typical momentary merely mental quickie. You guys will understand. I hope my Lady Wonder Wench will understand. Guys have no control over these things. And it’s not fair that this is a problem only guys have…I don’t think women have this problem. Or worse yet, maybe they do, but just not with me.

As you probably know, in my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot, available at Amazon, Big Louie, the chief mustard cutter of our Louie Louie generation has warned his guys that “women will only put up with a certain amount of being looked at.” He’s not talking about staring…that’s rude, and it can be threatening. Looking at is not staring. It’s just…looking. And different women have different levels of tolerance for being looked at, before they get upset. And those different levels can, of course, change instantly and without notice. I think it also has something to do with the look-er. I call that the George Clooney factor. My Lady Wonder Wench and many of her associates seem to think he’s a special case. I think he’s just a poor guy who can’t keep a girlfriend. Right.

Let me go back a few steps. I am a sexist. I am not a sexist pig. And I am not a male chauvinist. I am a sexist because I am delighted that I am a man, and my Lady Wonder Wench is not. And I appreciate that difference more than I plan on even telling you about. Now let me be clear that I am quite content to enjoy the full benefits of that difference exclusively with my Lady Wonder Wench. I do not download sexy Russian brides from the internet, nor do I take walks with other married ladies on Ashley Madison Avenue.

Next step: I should explain the Dick Summer theory of relativity. As with Einstein’s theory of relativity, we are dealing with figures here. But unlike Big Al’s theory of relativity, the figures I’m talking about are not numbers. They are figures. As in the shape that ladies tend to come in. Obviously ladies shapes involve a far more amazing combination of curves and protrusions than I could have ever created. As a matter of fact, I think when God created women, he was mostly just showing off. And as I explain how I got busted, please remember that I am not responsible for the result of the Lord’s ego trip.

Step three: My theory of relativity includes the concept that there is a connection between our words and our inclinations. For example, I used the word stare a little while ago. Is it really a co-incidence that good manners dictate that a gentleman should walk up a flight of stairs behind a lady, so that in case she trips he can catch her and keep her…safe ? It is certainly true that the view of a lady ascending a flight of stairs is somewhat testosterone friendly as seen from maybe a foot or so behind and below her. So is it a co-incidence that the word stare has a close relationship to the view of her ascending those stairs ? A co-incidence ? I think not.

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

1-   What do lions do at night ?

2-   What’s the best way for a single woman to get rid of cockroaches ?

3-   Why am I glad to be “Sexist?”

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

So here’s what happened. I was sitting on the Amtrak on the way up to New York to have lunch with a couple of buddies from the broadcasting days, Holland and Joe. I was reading an actual book. I was the only one in sight who was not virtually connected. The pimple person princess sitting next to me was putting on lipstick with one hand, and texting with the other. I have no idea how she was doing that. The train came to a sudden stop at a station, and her hand slipped, which could have won her the title of the widest mouth of the month on Amtrak. I purposely looked away, because I didn’t want to embarrass her. Just as I turned my head toward the aisle, a young lady with some of the most generous and attractive proportions that the Lord must have made on a very good day, was walking by my seat. Now understand that when you’re sitting in an Amtrak seat, your head comes up to maybe four feet above the floor. When the train lurched, the generously proportioned and attractive young lady stumbled and one of those attractive proportions impacted my face. She said, “Excuse me!” And before I could stop it, my mouth said, “That’s ok. I enjoyed every moment.” And every woman within ear shot gave me that look. It’s like the one a girl gives you when she’s about to explain why she’s suddenly getting a severe headache.

That’s not the end of the story. When everybody who was getting off, got off, and the train started up again, I saw one woman who looked like an out of uniform nun working as a secret service surveillance specialist, sunglasses and all. She looked like Sister Mary Knucklebuster with a permit to carry a concealed weapon. She was leaning against the rest room door and watching me, with that expression on her face that said Gotcha ! Busted!  

I’m telling you it wasn’t my fault. I had no control over it. It wasn’t my fault. It’s Not Your Fault is, conveniently, the title of one of the stories in my Night Connections 3 Personal Audio CD.

He thought he saw her…the guy in the story. He thought he saw her all the way inside. He heard her voice. He loved the way she thought. She was proud of him. How does this kind of thing happen? I know it does happen. It happened to a friend of mine. I know it happens. I just don’t know how.

It’s Not Your Fault 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, check out the Night Connections 3 icon on the home page.

Busted rhymes with trusted. Trust me I am very glad that I am a man and my Lady Wonder Wench is not. It is a difference that I enjoy thoroughly and as frequently as possible. I trust that even though I have come clean about being busted on the train, my Lady and I will continue to find ways to resolve our differences thoroughly…and if possible, even more frequently.


Wonder Wench Writes (About Dick’s “The Agony of De-Feet”)

Friday, November 15th, 2013

The agony of de-feet?  AGONY???????

 What man, even if his ankle is giving him thrips, truly understands agony? 

 Let’s see … getting pregnant for nine months of – comfort?  Washing clothes every day – to keep our hands warm?  Cooking in that oh-so-warm kitchen several times a day – for the fun and joy of it? 

And I will, of course, not mention monthly “times” or figuring out how to pay unpayable bills. 

Cleaning up after beer parties or fixing the little machinery that he doesn’t have time for “just now” or keeping the house (and attendant bathroom) clean for unexpected visitors.  Oh, and then there is grocery shopping … because if he goes, nothing you really need will come home with him.  He’ll forget.  Sort of.

Of course his ankle hurts.  Bad.  I don’t argue that fact in the least.  But agony?

 Come on, now …


Tuesday, November 12th, 2013

Warning to men: Copy these definitions down and put them somewhere safe, like in your wallet next to that little circular buldge. When a woman says the word “Fine” what that means is that she’s finished arguing, and she has won. Shut up. Get a life. Move on. When she says, “Nothing” that means “Something.” and you better figure it out…quickly. “Go ahead” is a dare, not permission to do something. Find out what “Ok” means and lots of other stuff on this week’s podcast, “The Agony Of De-Feet” at .

The Thrill of Victory – The Agony of De-feet

Saturday, November 9th, 2013

I am sitting here in my big, comfortable, manly, black leather poppa chair in my living room, and I’m booted up. I’m booted up, not my computer. My right foot is booted up to knock off some of the agony of de-feet.  My feet. Remember “The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat?” I don’t know about the thrill of victory, but I sure know about the agony of de-feet. De-feet started hurting a few days ago. So, I went to the doctor today. He put on his most serious face and poked my right ankle, looked up at me and asked “Did that hurt?” He had to look up at me, because when he poked, I instantly found myself looking down on him from the ceiling, He said, “hmmm.” I hate that when a doctor or an automobile mechanic pokes something and says, “hmmm.” “Hummm” is usually an expensive and painful word.

It was obviously xray time. I hate that too. He said “This won’t hurt.” Then the nurse covered most of me with a lead blanket. I explained that I already had six kids, so I’m not worried about procreational activities beyond the recreational. He and the nurse both just smiled happily at me. Then he unwound a very long electric cord with a big red button at the end of it as he walked hand in hand with the nurse, down the hall to a handily positioned lead lined closet. I don’t know exactly what they were doing in there. But after a while some part of one of them must have bumped the red button because the x ray machine went click, and immediately the lights flicked, a mosquito that was buzzing across the room crashed, and I heard something that sounded strangely like “ka-ching” coming from the billing office.

Turns out that the x-rays show that I pulled something in my right ankle which can only be described in Latin. I am un-clear as to why something in an American ankle must be described in Latin. I am also un-clear about how you can pull something in your ankle in the first place. But I am clear that the old song was right. Your ankle bone is definitely connected to your head bone. Because when I stepped on my ankle bone, the mouth part of my head bone opened very wide, and made a very loud noise, which expressed quite clearly, in words of four letters, the agony of de-feet.

The fix for my problem is special inserts that must be carefully made in what judging by the price, must be an AMA approved workshop, with golden walls, diamond light switches, and thousand dollar toilets, staffed by fully licensed elves, working under some special government control and supervision which is not affected by the sequester. When the doctor told me what they cost, the mouth part of my head bone made another very loud noise, my wallet jumped out of my pocket and ran up my leg to hide, and I’m pretty sure I heard that very strange “ka-ching” sound coming from the billing office again. It will take two weeks for the inserts to be ready. About the same length of time it will take for the check to clear.  And in the mean time, there’s this boot that he said would help reduce the agony of de-feet.

The boot isn’t really a boot. It’s a leather contraption that you tie on your foot with laces and Velcro. He said, “You have to tie it tight.” And he did. But I think he over did it. As he was tying it, my toes tried to fall off, the rest of my foot went from a size 10 ½ to a size 36 triple d, and I could feel my nose and ears beginning to pop off my face. For some silly reason, I kept thinking this is what Cinderella’s step sisters must have felt like trying to jam their feet into the prince’s glass slipper. It was like the little guy inside my head was trying to give me a silly picture to distract me from all the agony that was going on with de-feet.    

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

1-   Why must we curb our constant desire to go to the gym and work out ?

2-   What’s the connection between Iran and prune juice ?

3-   What’s Dolly Parton’s CB Handle ?                                                                                

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

If you’re a sports fan, you probably remember that the agony of de-feet is the second part of Jim McKay’s wonderful statement about a skier on Wide World Of Sports all those years ago. The full statement was “The Thrill of Victory And the Agony of Defeat”…and he spelled it defeat. It was definitely time today for checking out the first part of that statement…the thrill of victory.

I think the biggest thrill of victory in my life was when I managed to talk my Lady Wonder Wench into running off with me instead of Pete. It was a long time ago. And when I hobbled out to the waiting room, she was there, waiting to drive me home…looking…beautiful…just like she has been for a very long time. There’s a story a little like ours in the Night Connections Personal Audio CD. I was always proud of the woman in the story. She had to look into the mirror to brush her hair and to put on a little lipstick…she had to look into her mirror. And sometimes when a woman looks in her mirror at a time like that, she gets scared at the changes that 15 years can make. 15 years is a long time. I don’t know if she got scared, but I do know that she didn’t back down. She sprayed a little perfume around the room, lit a candle, and met him at their front door…wearing a lovely smile.

The story is called the Couples Concert. It’s from the Night Connections personal audio CD. If you like it, you can either download the current podcast, or just go back to the home page and check out the Night Connections icon.  

As I mentioned in my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot, a good Louie Louie lady can turn the agony of defeat into the thrill of victory for her Louie Louie Lad in lots of different ways. And one of the advantages that those of us who are Louie Louie lads have, is the fact that we’ve “been there and done that.” We make no claims about understanding how women do what they do, because we know that’s never going to happen. But we have the advantage of being able to remember some things that younger guys have never seen. Or heard. For example we do have some idea of what a woman really means when she says the word “Fine.” That’s the word women use to end an argument when she knows she’s right, and you need to shut up. The word “Nothing” means “Something”…and you need to figure out what that something is. Quickly. “Go Ahead” is a dare…not permission to do something. “That’s Ok” means she is thinking long and hard on how and when you will pay for your latest goof. And if she says “Wow,” don’t get excited, because that means she can’t imagine how one person could be so stupid.

The thrill of victory and the agony of de-feet. Right now I’m thinking about what Big Louie, the chief mustard cutter of our Louie Louie generation always says: “You can never tell when something wonderful is going to happen. So maybe my Lady Wonder Wench will start thinking about some creative ways she could  turn my agony of de-feet into another thrill of victory for me. She’s really good at that.


Saturday, November 9th, 2013

Prepare for some real pun-ishment in tomorrow’s podcast, “The Agony of De-Feet.”


Friday, November 8th, 2013

On the basis of the fact that if puns are outlawed, only outlaws will have puns, I am looking forward to having you join me for Sunday’s podcast called, “The Agony of De-feet.” You will also learn why you must curb your constant desire to go to the gym and work out…it could cost you your love affair, your job, and whatever is left of your procreational abilities. Warning: Sunday’s podcast  contains an arsenal of concealed puns.

Wonder Wench Writes – About Dick’s Sunday Blog

Thursday, November 7th, 2013

Hmmm … do ya suppose it’s age that makes him keep repeating himself? Tire marks in the garage? Uh, uh … more like nicks on the edge of the garage door from where he hit it trying to back out in a hurry because he was late (as usual) for an appointment. Now I will admit that I like speed … I once owned a 1965 Mustang (the best year they ever had, except for Shelby’s) and that car got me a gymkhana trophy for speed. But I don’t ignore the speed limits nowadays (well, not much) and when you have a lovely car to show off … which I do … well, you kind of have to show it off, right? 

Yes, we went to New Jersey and yes, I followed the speed limit (mostly) … but I never hit anyone and if he had let go of his death grip on the door handle he might even have enjoyed the swift passage of trees … and other stuff. 

It’s like flying, Louie Louie Lad of my own – the need for speed is exponentially increased by the power of the engine beneath the hood – or cowling. If you can zoom across space singing “It’s a lovely day today” then I can grin and take the curves with a certain glee … while one foot hovers just above the brake pedal. What is it, Big Louie, a certain chauvinism that says women can’t handle cars … or planes … with the same verve and talent as you all? 

Watch me …


Wednesday, November 6th, 2013

The restaurant business is tough. And I think they’re missing out on some important extra income possibilities. You hear “Smoking or non.” But the “non” sounds like nun. IDEA: Keep one section aside where people could sit and watch a nun smoking. How about a tipping and non tipping section. And I think  many guys would pay extra to sit in the Victoria’s Secret section rather than in the crying baby section.  Lots of restaurants have signs in the bathrooms that say employees must wash hands before stirring the soup with their fingers. How about a section for “Guaranteed hands washed” and another for “Take your chances hands washed.” For more restaurant helpful financial tips, and other stuff, check out


Tuesday, November 5th, 2013

Ok. So telling you my Lady Wonder Wench swerved back ON to the highway was a…slight…exageration…mis-speaking—lie. But did I tell you about the tire skid marks on the floor of our garage ? You really should know more about my Lady’s driving habits. There’s a story about a recent trip to our favorite diner at