Dick Summer Connection

I love telling stories. I even did a spoken word CD called, Bedtime Stories.  I read stories to my Lady Wonder Wench every night when we go to bed. Winston Churchill, Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton were so powerful because they were great story tellers. Sister Mary Knucklebuster kept the boys in order in the third grade partly by promising if we behaved, she’d read a story to us just before 3 o’clock. And if we didn’t…thwack. A good example of the use of the carrot and the stick. In her case it was a yard stick.  Everybody loves a good story. My friend Kevin is a savage golfer. A savage golfer is three times as crazy as your standard golfing nut.

So I tell Kevin Golf stories. For example, Tom, Dick and Harry were savage golfers. They played every Saturday morning through rain, snow, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. One Saturday, Tom teed up and hit a shot straight down the fairway. Dick did the same. Harry teed up, and just as he was swinging at the ball, he had a heart attack and fell down dead. That night, they went to tell Harry’s wife the bad news. When she calmed down a little she asked, “If it happened this morning, why didn’t you tell me till now. So Dick explained how long it took to tee up, hit the ball, drag Harry, tee up, hit the ball and drag Harry for 18 holes.

I love the story Proud PodCast Participant Jim King sent me about a guy who was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and had sex for hours. They fell asleep, and woke up at 8PM. The guy told his girl friend to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt, while he was getting dressed. Then he put his shoes on and drove home. His wife said, “Where have you been?” He said, “I have to tell you the truth. I’m having an affair with my secretary, and we had sex all afternoon.” His wife screamed, “You lying son of a gun, I’ve seen your shoes…you’ve been out playing golf again.”

Then there’s the story about Father Norton…who woke up one Sunday morning and decided he just had to go play golf. So he called his assistant and said, “Please say my mass for me today, I’m not feeling well.” Then he headed to a golf course about 40 miles away so he wouldn’t accidently meet anyone from his parish. He was all alone …after all, it was Sunday morning and everyone else was in church. But of course, St. Peter was watching, and he leaned over to the Lord and said, “You’re not going to let him get away with this are you?” The Lord said, “No, of course not.” Just then Father Norton hit the ball and it shot straight toward the pin, dropping just short of it…rolled up and fell into the hole. A 420 yard hole in one. St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and said, “Why did you let him do that ?” The Lord smiled and said, “Who can he tell ?”

I love golf stories. In fact I just love stories. That’s why on the front cover of my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot, there’s a quote from the New York Daily News that says, “Dick Summer is a story teller.”  If I don’t tell at least a couple of stories a day, my pimples come back and my wrinkles start to hurt. So let me tell you about a guy who stepped out of his shower naked and dripping wet…he said to his wife, “Hey, Honey, what do you think the neighbors would say if I mowed the lawn like this?” She looked at him and says, “They’d probably say I married you for your money.” A little while later the couple is lying in bed, and the man says, “Honey, I’m going to make you the happiest woman in the world.” And she just turns to him and says, “I’m really going to miss you.” That feels a little better. The pimples went away. Maybe just one more will make my wrinkles stop hurting: Our next door neighbor Bernadette asked my Lady Wonder Wench, “What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name?” Madame W. Wench didn’t miss a beat. She said, “It means you didn’t hold the pillow down long enough.”

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

1-  Why does Congress have the biggest collection of comic books?

2-  Who has had enough of biting sand flies?

3-  How long does the average driver spend kissing in a car?

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

Maybe this next story will take a little time to tell…but I think it’s worth it. It’s not funny but it’s honest. And it has an important message especially for Louie Louie Generation folks who have been around for a little while. It came from Proud Podcast Participant “Joan P.”  Joan sent me an email saying, “Dear Dick, I started seeing a very important guy in my life during the summer of 1973. I gave him a copy of your book Lovin Touch after hearing some of the stories on your radio show. The stories meant a lot to me. We were both legally separated at the time. We spent several wonderful years together. But eventually he went back to his wife, and I re-married. My husband passed away in January of 2006, and his wife passed away the following March. When a mutual friend of ours mentioned that his wife had died, I hesitated, but eventually called to offer my condolences. That call opened a whole new chapter in our lives.

Two days after my call to him, he called me back. The calls between us became daily affairs, and they lasted many hours. We had roughly 25 years to catch up on. Last Monday he called to invite me to lunch during the week. Of course I said yes. Our first look at one another is one that I will hold forever in my heart. We didn’t see how the years had changed us…me now 65 and he at almost 62…it was a look of what we had both missed for all those years.

After tonight’s five hour conversation, he mentioned remembering my gift to him of your Lovin Touch book. He even said it had a red cover. (The Bantam Books version did.) I couldn’t believe he remembered. He said for almost three weeks he had been searching the house for it and couldn’t find it. I ordered your CD, but would also like to get a new copy of the book. It would mean so much to me if you could help me locate one. I would be able to write inside, “To our second beginning…forever.”  Can you please help me locate one ?”

I don’t have any more copies and had to tell her so. But I did send her a copy of the Bedtime Stories CD. Joan found copies of a couple of the books on Amazon and sent me this note: “Hi Dick, just received your copy of the Bedtime Stories CD. Thank you so much. Dave is going to be so surprised when I give him the books and the CDs.

Then a few weeks later this note came up in my E-mail: “Hi Dick, wanted to give you an update. Dave and I are still together, and still very much in love. We’re coming up on the first anniversary of our new beginning. What really challenged our true love is when Dave was diagnosed with lung cancer in January. I have been with him every day since then. He has now completed his chemo and radiation, and goes for a repeat CT Scan later this week. We hope to be together forever, but we’ll treasure whatever time we have left.”

What a story. Especially for those of us who are members of the Louie Louie Generation. We really have no idea how much time we’ll have left. It reminds me of what Big Louie always says, “If you have any moving parts left…move em….Now…in the time you have left.”

There’s a story in the current podcast called, “Got a minute.” It’s about making a tough choice. Is somebody or some thing so important to you that you’ll swap a minute for what might or might not be your forever? Sometimes…you’ve got to make a decision like that…in even less than a minute…you make up your mind in a flash that can make your forever explode.

Got A Minute is from my Bedtime Stories spoken word CD. If you like it, you can just keep this podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just check out the Bedtime Stories icon on the home page.

Proud Podcast Participant Domingo sent me a wonderful story that can teach all guys an important lesson. He said, “I am married to a beautiful Peruvian woman. Many things about her I do not understand. She said nothing to me for about a week. Why do women say nothing ? Why don’t they say ‘Let’s go to bed and have sex ?’ They don’t. They say nothing. Then when I came home today, my beautiful wife was screaming something in Peruvian which I do not understand, and she was throwing everything I own out the window. One of my golf clubs and a couple of plates hit a guy on the street. What can we do?”

Well, Big Louie says he probably can’t help Domingo at this point. But he thinks perhaps guys can all take an important lesson from this story. Louie says, “If you are living with a beautiful Peruvian woman who is in the habit of going for days without saying anything to you it would probably be a good idea to get a ground floor apartment, furnished with light weight, easy to hurl plastic plates and bean bag couches….

First call for help in in the podcast trying to get George Clooney to visit my Post Office friend Mary Pat Susan was promising. May be able to at least get him to send an autographed picture. So this is a second call. Anybody who knows Mr. Clooney, or knows somebody who may know somebody…you get the picture…please get in touch with me at dick@dicksummer.com  We can do this.

I was talking about Johnny Carson to a waiter at the diner the other day. He’s a nice guy, but distressingly young. It was pretty obvious he had no idea of who Johnny Carson was. I referred him to this week’s podcast where there are some reminders of Mr. Carson’s  “Carnack The Magnificent” bits. It goes like this: 

According to Johnny Carson…if you’re a member of the Louie Louie Generation you remember Johnny Carson…according to Johnny Carson if the answer is rub a dub dub, the question is what does a masseuse do to your dub dub. How about if the answer is Camelot, the question is where do Arabs park their camels. I miss Johnny Carson. My favorite was if the answer is sis boom baahh, the question is what’s the sound an exploding sheep makes. As I said, I miss Mr. Carson.

This is the paragraph in this week’s podcast that’s causing me so much trouble:

Now, I realize that what I am about to say will put me high up on any decent person’s list of surly, soulless, scoundrels. But I don’t want a dog in my life right now. I also realize that statements like that cause a great many—mostly unnecessary—fatal fights between men and women. And I understand that one of the things my Lady Wonder Wench is thinking now is “If I throw a stick, will he run after it—and just keep running?” Please don’t misunderstand. I like dogs. I just don’t like dog poop, dog hair, and the dog-gone hassle of taking walks in the snow looking for fire hydrants and trees. I am not really a terrible person for not wanting a dog in my life right now. I may be a terrible person, but not for that reason. I’ve just been a highly responsible guy all my life. And now, four out of the five voices in my head are telling me it’s time I let the little kid inside me out to play. Just me and my Lady W.W.”

Bingo, as they say in church/temple/rotary club. Because of this week’s podcast Proud podcast participant Betsy K. has come up with George Clooney’s parent’s home address. I just wrote them, asking them to ask George to send Mary Pat Susan an autographed picture. You guys come through big time. 

Does anybody reading this know anybody who might be able to get in touch with George Clooney ? We need to get him to visit the local post office, or send his limo or private jet for the post mistress, or send her an autographed picture at least.    

This came burning into my email from Lady Wonder Wench regarding Sunday’s Podcast at www.dicksummer.com/podcast :

OH – RIGHT – A DOG IS SO GREAT FOR EVERYONE BUT ME! 

And not including MPS, of course … 

Oh, all right, Louie Louie Lad of mine, I can and will live without a real, live dog.  Well … of the four-legged kind, anyway …

I have just returned to my big, manly, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room after a dog-gone interesting trip to the post office. You always hear about “dis-gruntled postal employees” doing something weird or even nasty. Like shooting a president. But the lady who runs the local post office…we’ll call her Mary Pat Susan which is only partly her real name because I don’t want her to get in trouble for this in case the NSA or the lords of the postal service are listening and they don’t like what she’s doing. I figure that if there are dis-gruntled postal workers, there must be gruntled postal workers. And Mary Pat Susan must be the queen of the gruntled postal workers. Therefore every so often, I bring her my Gruntled Postal Service Workers Award…usually some peanuts or M&Ms or a picture of George Clooney. She seems to like George Clooney. I have no idea why. Must be his personality. M.P.S. always seems to have the Gratitude-Attitude that I talk about in my book, Staying Happy Healthy And Hot, even though I know she’s been going through some tough times lately. She is a wonderful, warm and welcoming lady who has become a real friend to my Lady Wonder Wench and me.

Mary Pat Susan is a dog lover. Big time. She recently got an Irish Setter puppy, who has grown in the last few months into a very good looking young dog. And he seems to know how good looking he is. He frequently goes to work with Susan and has taken to striking a George Clooney like pose, as if inviting someone to take his picture to put on the next first class stamp. Every woman who comes into the post office immediately starts making mommy sounds that often end in one of two statements, either…”Ohh isn’t he cuuute,” (three or four u-s in the word cute) or “Look how big he’s gotten.”

M.P.S. calls her dog, “Shamrock.” But I’ve been trying to get her to change the dog’s name to Dick, because given our current silly state of political correctness I think the name Dick would put such a different meaning on the women’s comments…”Ohh isn’t he cuuute,” or “Look how big he’s gotten.” I know…like many Louie Louie Generation guys, I do lack a certain level of maturity. I told Mary Pat Susan the dog I had as a kid was a mutt named Whistle, and he had a flat nose from chasing parked cars, and she actually laughed instead of threatening to crush my male box.

My Lady Wonder Wench has been dropping subtle hints about getting a dog lately. Hints like, “Why don’t we get a dog?” In fact, there is a chapter in my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot called Dog Gone, that explains my position on dogs pretty well.

On page 52 it says:

“Now, I realize that what I am about to say will put me high up on any decent person’s list of surly, soulless, scoundrels. But I don’t want a dog in my life right now. I also realize that statements like that cause a great many—mostly unnecessary—fatal fights between men and women. And I understand that one of the things my Lady Wonder Wench is thinking now is “If I throw a stick, will he run after it—and just keep running?” Please don’t misunderstand. I like dogs. I just don’t like dog poop, dog hair, and the dog-gone hassle of taking walks in the snow looking for fire hydrants and trees. I am not really a terrible person for not wanting a dog in my life right now. I may be a terrible person, but not for that reason. I’ve just been a highly responsible guy all my life. And now, four out of the five voices in my head are telling me it’s time I let the little kid inside me out to play. Just me and my Lady W.W.” 

Dick’s Details…a bunch of totally un-important stuff for you to stuff in one ear, so you can squeeze the important stuff that’s bothering you out the other ear, and you can get comfortable.

TV stuff tonight. The tax on the supposedly free cars Oprah gave away to the studio audience that day was $7,000, which is why some people said “Up Oprah’s” According to Johnny Carson, if the answer was Rub a dub dub do you know what the question was? Of course you don’t I haven’t told you yet. I will in a minute. 18 Star Trek conventions are held around the world every year. And that’s just this world. This is just kind of nice, the inscription on Jackie Gleason’s grave stone is “And away we go.” He was a hugely talented musician as well as being a world class comedian. Oh yes. According to Johnny Carson, If you’re a member of the Louie Louie Generation you remember Johnny Carson…according to Johnny Carson if the answer is rub a dub dub, the question is what does a masseuse do to your dub dub. How about if the answer is Camelot, the question is where do Arabs park their camels. I miss Johnny Carson. My favorite was if the answer is sis boom bah, the question is what’s the sound an exploding sheep makes. As I said, I miss Mr. Carson.

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

So how come police dogs don’t have to wear a badge. And cats never have to work. Most Louie Louie Generation guys don’t care much for cats, but we get along pretty well with dogs. Proud Podcast Participant Bruce From Georgia sent a note that said: “The only circumstances under which it’s OK for a man to cry are” 1- When an heroic dog dies to save its master. 2- When Angelina Jolie starts un-buttoning her blouse. 3- When wrecking your boss’ car.” I have often wondered why the Beatles sang, “It’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working like a dog.” My dog Whistle’s work day consisted mostly of hanging around the house waiting for me to come home to bark at me so I’d take him out to mark his territory on some parked car. I’m pretty sure he considered parking meters to be his personal pay toilets. I could never figure out why when I took him for a ride in the car, he’d always stick his head out the window. But if you blew in his face, he’d get mad at you. You know how you sometimes walk into a room and forget why you walked in ? I think that’s pretty much how Whistle spent his life.

Unlike Whistle, some dogs work of course. Firefighters have Dalmations. Probably to help them find fire hydrants. And there are bomb sniffing dogs. You see one of them running, better run right along with him. Some dogs… like most poodles… are just for dog shows, or walks down Fifth Avenue in your mink coat. And I wonder if other dogs look at poodles and think they must be members of some weird religious cult. One of our daughters raised show dogs, and one day our granddaughter Erin called on the phone and you could practically see her jumping up and down with all the excitement only a 6 year old kid can muster, and she screamed, “Poppa, Nana, we won best bitch.” Don’t you just love seeing little kids so excited that they scream laughing and jump up and down? And isn’t it just awful to see a little kid crying quietly…not screaming or pouting…just quietly crying. 

What an experience it has been to see our daughters and now our granddaughters grow up…through all those laughs and tears. When little Erin called…so excited…I couldn’t help wonder what my Lady Wonder Wench was like when she was little. There’s a story about that in my Bedtime Stories spoken word CD.( www.dicksummer.com ) I know she had braids, and she wore glasses, and home-made dresses. Things were tough for her family in those days. She lived in a cold water flat in Boston. The winters are cold in Boston. The only heat was from the kitchen stove. Any time she talks about it she simply says, “That’s just the way it was.” No tears. But the one memory that still gets her a little misty was that she couldn’t swap lunch sandwiches with the other kids in school, because she only had butter bread sandwiches. Funny isn’t it…that such a long ago little thing can still make the little girl inside her shed some very big girl tears. 

The story is called Tears. It’s from my Bedtime Stories spoken word CD. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy just check out the Bedtime Stories icon on the home page. 

What Einstein was to physics. What Hank Aaron was to home runs. What Edward G. Robinson was to dying like a dirty rat…that’s what Mary Pat Susan is to Gruntled Postal Workers. She didn’t throw me out when I told her about the cowboy who bought a dachshund because everybody told him he should get a long little doggie. Or when I tried to get her to change her dog’s name to Dick…because she understands that my evil mind is my solace forever. She even didn’t throw me out when I asked her if she had a mutt named Spot, and she spilled some spot remover on him, would he disappear.

She did get a little upset when I told her I bought my Lady Wonder Wench a dog, and she found out it was a mechanical dog that talks, and you don’t have to feed it, or walk it, or take it to the vet…all you have to do is change his batteries. Listen to the current podcast. He even tells jokes. 

Mary Pat Susan does much more than cancel stamps at her job. She always has hand drawn pictures of snow men and sleds on the window at Christmas, and lollypops and little games for the kids every day, and a long time ago she had a warm and welcoming smile for my Lady and me when we first moved here and didn’t know anybody. Suddenly we weren’t strangers any more because of her. And we found out that it was she, who put the balloons up in our driveway when my Lady came home from the hospital after her terrible accident a few years ago. I know she listens to these podcasts. So I hope this podcast will be just a little surprise for her. I want her to know that she’s a lot more special than just being the winner of my silly gruntled postal worker peanuts and M&Ms award. She’s having a tough time right now. 

Funny  thing about podcasts. You never know who’s listening. I doubt if George Clooney is connected right now, but maybe somebody who knows somebody who knows Mr. Clooney might get in touch with him. Mary Pat Susan is having a tough time right now, and as Big Louie always says…you never know when something wonderful is going to happen. So maybe somebody listening could find a way to get George to either drop in on her post office, or send his limo to pick her up and take her to his private jet, to have dinner with her. Hey. You never know.

Summertime….Under the boardwalk…up on the roof. For those of you who didn’t grow up in New York, there’s a place called “Tar Beach.” Actually, lots of places called Tar Beach. Out in the boroughs…like Brooklyn where I grew up, the house tops are flat and covered with tar. On a warm day, if you don’t have time to get to Coney Island, you can go “up on the roof” and enjoy an hour on “tar beach.” That’s why helicopters were invented. The dress is optional. And many young ladies like “an over all tan.” Ah yes. Summertime. www.dicksummer.com/podcast

Louie Louie Generation guys and girls will remember fondly the Jamies :   “It’s Summertime, Summertime, Summertime, Sum-mer-time…SUMMERTIME !” Big Louie says, “It’s going to get hot. So please remember that there is no life without water, because without water there is no coffee. So don’t let the politicians get you even hotter under the collar. Instead of getting your shorts all twisted, just go get another cup of coffee…iced if you like…and sop up some sun.”