Dick Summer Connection

This is part two of our celebration of the beginning of our eighth year together. The podcast this week features the top five downloaded stories from the Personal Audio Cds. I was really surprised at some of the results, and you might be too. But we’re talking about Audio here, so to check out the list for yourself, please go to www.dicksummer.com/podcast

Meantime, you might be interested in a trip my Lady Wonder Wench and I took to the Wallmart up the street. It was time to replace our outdoor grill. So we looked at the picture on the boxes that were stacked up to oxygen mask levels, and picked one out.

I didn’t see the small print notice on the box until just before the checkout guy ran his magic ray gun across the bar code, and the cash register said ca-ching. The small print said, “Free assembly available.” I froze. My Lady Wonder Wench was with me, and she said, “What’s the matter?” Not wanting to stammer in public, I simply pointed to the notice. She immediately went into wise guy wife mode. She said, “Don’t worry about that, you can ask Randy next door to help you with it.” “Oh yeah?” I replied… in that incisive, confident, worldly way that is the trade mark of “Louie Louie Generation” guys everywhere.

If you’ve been connected with this blog for awhile, you’ll remember that Randy is my next door neighbor… a very nice guy…a top flight fish whisperer, the neighborhood New Year’s Eve party giver, and a fellow plastic potato pop gun warrior. But if you are a “Louie-Louie Generation” guy, you know damn well there would be a blizzard in August before you would ask your buddy next door for help in assembling ANYTHING, let alone something as simple as an outdoor grill. “Ha,” I said to my Lady Wonder Wench with a disdain verging on panic. Then she did it. She gave that Lady Wonder Wench Witchy Smile, and purred, “Maybe I can help.” Any experienced wife will do that when she wants something done quickly and she knows exactly where her husband thinks he has his ego safely hidden.

You probably know the rest of the story. Box manufactured in Taiwan, frame from Bangladesh, bolts made in Kazakhstan that don’t quite fit the nuts imported from Nigeria, and instruction manual written in Baghdad, by a terrorist wannabe who took the job because he was seething with anger at the United States but was rejected for a suicide assignment by his neighborhood terrorist organization by reason of excess insanity.

His revenge was swift and sweet… helped by the fact that the manufacturer made several models of the grill, but only this “one size fits all” instruction book. Ooohh, you’ve been there, guys…I know you have. But I did it! And the end result bears a distinct resemblance to the picture on the box. Except for the pieces left over. And a wire hanging down. And the kind of rakish angle of the cover. And the propane tank doesn’t quite fit. But… “Oh, you’re so wonderful” said my Lady Wonder Wench…as any experienced wife will do when she wants something else done quickly. The “something” being that it was about time that I cut the lawn for the first time this season.

I have a question. Why do we cook out? We have a nice kitchen, with a microwave oven and granite counter tops on which we can put our meal. Does hamburger really taste better served with ketchup, relish, flies, bees and moths? And why do guys who never cook indoors, do all the cooking outdoors? I guess when it comes to smoke, flames and blood on an outdoor grill…it’s a guy thing.

And while I’m asking you questions, why do we buy grass seed, plant it, water it, fertilize it, grow it, then cut it, and cut it, and cut it, and cut it…and then throw away the stuff we cut ? I think something has come loose here…besides the handle that looks like it’s about to fall off the propane grill.

Gotta back up a little. If you just connected with this blog, you may be scratching your head and asking, what is the “Louie-Louie Generation?” If you remember record hops… you are a member of the “Louie-Louie Generation.” I did a lot of record hops when I was a disc jockey. And any time the kids stopped dancing, I’d haul out “Louie-Louie” and the party would start cooking again. “Louie Louie” was the perfect guy dance…no complicated dance steps, and an excuse to get very close to a girl’s ear and softly sing your version of the “dirty” lyrics. I seem to remember that some of the more popular girls liked “Louie Louie” too…and I think it was for some of the same reasons.

As I have carefully explained in my new book, Staying Happy Healthy And Hot…available at Amazon dot com…it doesn’t really matter how many birthdays you’ve had…you can consider yourself a member of the “Louie-Louie Generation” if a lot of your conversation these days includes words like “prostate,” “ouch,” “vitamin E,” “cholesterol,” “stress,” “diet,” and…”whaaaatt?” It happened so fast, didn’t it? It seems like just when we started getting rid of our pimples, we began suffering from precocious ab-deflation.

“Precocious ab-deflation” is a highly technical term I made up a few years ago. It comes from the ancient Latin word “pre,” which means “before” … as in “pre-marital sex,” and the ancient Brooklyn-ese word “coaches…which in ancient Brooklyn-ese means “wise people”…as in “good sports teams have wise coaches.” So “precocious ab-deflation” means we are losing our abs before we’ve had a chance to get wise to what was going on. (It works better when you say it out loud.)_

Any way…the hamburger patties are made, there’s a big wooden spoon in the potato salad, a couple of cold brewskies with our names on them on the ice…so it is now time to turn on the propane, hit the igniter, and we’ll have a delicious start to our eigth year together. Assuming when I hit the igniter, that the back deck doesn’t blow up.

I didn’t write this. I don’t know who did. A friend sent it to me. If you are an American, you won’t be able to finish it without…such pride. 

Well, I don’t think the Lad’s top five are the same as mine … but they’re not bad for a Louie Louie Lad who has finally decided to let the yard fall into the hands of twenty-first century doctors (yes, I know, that’s from a Star Treck episode). 

How far do you go when your favorite Lad is thinking in terms of keeping you as safe as he can and, therefore, doesn’t give you much room to swat flies?  Or … well, mosquitoes, actually, since they don’t bite him but seem to adore me?  I don’t really want him to stop; I just wanna fall on my face (well, elbows anyway) if I have to without having this adorable man have a convulsion for my sake. 

I know, I know – take his care and protection and shut my mouth.  I do … most of the time …

Ed. Note – It’s just what the numbers said. The five most downloaded of the year.

I’ve been sitting here in my big, manly, comfortable, black leather poppa chair, doing these blogs and podcasts for six years as of this month. Actually, I haven’t been just sitting in this chair for six years. I have occasionally gotten up for potty breaks, snacks and several other physically and emotionally functional reasons. But this month starts our seventh year of the Good Night podcasts, and the Dick Summer Connection blogs.

Before we pop the cork on our beginning of the 7^th year celebration, I want to thank you for giving me a few minutes of your valuable time again this year. Thank you if you’ve just joined us. And thank you if you’ve been a part of our “Huddle” from the beginning. Maybe all the way back to the radio days.

This podcast and blog is the inspiration for my new book, Staying Happy Healthy And Hot. It’s about the constant struggle of our Louie Louie Generation lads and ladies against the forces of the clueless Pimple People, and the Drab and Dreary Drones. It’s a reminder that real courage isn’t about beating your chest and hollering “I’m Number One.” Sometimes it’s just about a small voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow.” That’s hard. But Louie Louie folks have been through plenty…and although the Pimple People don’t believe it, and the Dreary Drones can’t be bothered, we’ve got plenty of juice left. Plenty of juice for fun, for new friends, for sex, for new ideas, and for turning fantasies into facts. I think we’re especially good at that.

And when things get really tough, we always keep in mind two things that our guy Big Louie always says: “You can never tell when something wonderful is going to happen.” And “If you still have some moving parts left, for crying out loud, move ‘em.”

Ok…cork popping time. Here are the five most downloaded podcasts and blogs of the year. I’ll tell you a little about each one to refresh your memory, and if you like, you can check out the whole blog by scrolling down on the side of the page to the appropriate date, or the podcast by going back to www.dicksummer.com/podcast  and just scroll down there to the appropriate date.

The fifth most downloaded blog and podcast this year is from Sunday August 25^th. It’s called “Unsafe Around Sharp Objects.” It was about getting back from the drug store with a stash of vitamins and magic herbs that will improve my memory, help me sleep, and make my Lady Wonder Wench putty in my arms. And you know those plastic wrappings they put around bottle tops to keep the bad guys from dropping stuff in there while nobody’s looking? Well I grabbed a knife from the drawer and started cutting around the edge so I could open the lid, and my Lady said, “Don’t cut yourself.” She doesn’t trust me with sharp objects. What have I done to deserve that ? (For those of you who have been with us for a while, never mind with your wise guy answers.)

That was the week I decided on the title of my new book…Staying Happy Healthy and Hot…and the rest of the blog and podcast was basically the first chapter of the book. We left you with a suggestion that when somebody you care about makes it clear that she doesn’t trust you with sharp objects… before you come back with some snotty saying, walk into your bathroom and make some funny faces at yourself in the mirror. That will make you grin. And when you grin you win. Because eventually your somebody will pound on the bathroom door and yell “Are you still in there?” And that’s when you say…”NO.” A little surprise never hurt anybody.

Tricky-Dicky was the fourth most downloaded blog and podcast this year. You’ll find it at www.dicksummer.com/podcast , or by scrolling down on the side of the blog page to January 1^st of this year. It’s about the fact that Richard is the name on my pilot’s license and my driver’s license, but my real name is Dick. I like being called Dick. In today’s politically correct world, the word Dick gets a little attention. I like attention. I’m a little put off when people call me Richard. Sister Mary Knucklebuster used to call me Richard in grammar school. And when my Lady Wonder Wench is angry with me, she calls me Richard. The name Dick is short, to the point, and gets your attention. A little like the mini-skirt which I always thought was about the best invention of the 60s. The Politically Correct Forces for Good in the Community huff and puff and call that kind of thinking about mini-skirts “sexist.” I hereby give those folks the words of Big Louie, who quite reasonably says, “If God hadn’t meant for us to be sexist, how come he gave us sex?”

Sunday, September 30^th was the date to look for the Third most downloaded blog and podcast of our seventh year. It’s called, Don’t Worry, Be Happy. It features Big Louie’s 10 Happiness Helpers. For example: Listen to some happy music. Get up and move around a little more. When you move you groove. Stand and sit tall, and walk strong. Stop the slouch. Pull your shoulders back and reach for the sky with the back of your head. When you walk tall and strong, you look at life differently. Walk strong like you’re going somewhere. Strut. Don’t wander or mosey. Try it. People get out of your way. And you start disturbing the hormones of all those who’s hormones you want to disturb for miles around. Fake it till you feel it. Put a smile on your face. It’ll actually make you feel smiley all the way down inside.

There’s a whole long list of other Happiness Helpers in the blog and podcast. They’ll make it easier for you to follow Big Louie’s rule…”Dare to be indifferent. Don’t worry be happy.”

The second most downloaded blog and podcast this year is from October 21. It’s called “Angela’s Fingernails.” Angela was sitting right there on my lap during the podcast. And as she always does, she started scratching my back. I have never met anyone who could scratch my back like Angela. Not even my Lady Wonder Wench. One of the reasons she’s so good at it is that she has seven fingers on one hand. I sometimes take her to bed with me. Our relationship is intensely physical but she can’t get pregnant…and for the gutter minded amongst you…which pretty well describes most Louie Louie lads…don’t jump to conclusions. She’s not a blow up doll. She is so sexy, I’ve occasionally lent her to several of my buddies, and they all had big smiles on their faces when she was finished with them. You may want to find out how this podcast turns out. Just check out the blog or podcast from October 21 of this year.

Here are some of the things we learned in the Dick’s Details section of our top five blogs and podcasts. What makes an octopus feel ugly. What do we know from the research of a scientist by the name of Stumpy. Why did the smart guys in the white lab coats cross human cells with carrot cells. What statement do both astronauts and strippers say a lot. What’s the least believable poll ever published. Why do members of Canada’s Parliament need to wash their socks more often. And what strange accusation did Congress make about the Lone Ranger and Frank Sinatra.  Dick’s Details. They take your mind off your mind.

And the number one most downloaded blog and podcast of this year together is from October 28^th. It’s called Thank You For Your Visit. October 28^th was the date my new book, Staying Happy Healthy And Hot was published. And as a very real “Thank You” for visiting me here in my world, I offered a free download of the final draft of the book for one week.

I called the blog and podcast “Thank You For Your Visit,” because I want you to know how special it is for me to have you come to visit my world on this blog and podcast. You’re busy. Everybody’s busy. It sometimes seems like life is either passing you by or running you over. But coming here each week says that you and I share some important understandings. Like, time outs are an important part of every game. And just because we may not look like the people in the beer commercials any more with their perky breasts and fancy abs, there’s damn well no reason to just let ourselves turn into slabs of luke warm meat. And there’s a time for loving and a time for leaving. Sometimes if you get lucky, the space between the loving and the leaving is a lifetime. Sometimes it gets crushed into just one very magic moment. But when you think about it, that’s lucky too, because that’s a once in a lifetime explosion that very few people get to feel.

Thank you for visiting my world. It’s a world full of the smell of rain when the first fat cool drops sink into the warm earth in the spring, and soft breezes and thunderstorms, and the soft splat of spring snow, and laughs with friends, and tears….

Thank you for visiting my world. That’s also what the new book, is really about. Our laughs, tears, hopes and fears. It’s not about looking at life through rose colored glasses. It’s about happily looking through bi-focals that still get steamed up…and sometimes a little tear-ed up, as my Lady Wonder Wench and I watch the Summer of our lives turn to Autumn Gold.

So there you have the most downloaded blogs and podcasts of this year. Next week…the top five most downloaded stories from the Personal Audio CDs on the podcast, and a story about chancing an explosion on our back deck here on the blog. And really…thank you for visiting my world. You’re welcome any time.

My first thought when I read Dick’s blog was … well, never mind, it’s against the law.  Then I figured I would just ignore the entire thing.  But I can’t do that.

 So … first of all, I used to race my Mustang (never the horse, though) and I even won a trophy.  Once.  By accident, I think, although it felt pretty good racing around that course.  So, when the Louie Louie Lad of my acquaintance uses his blog to denigrate my driving and insinuates that my old red Mustang needs to be gelded … well, keep in mind, Lad, that Martha and Babsi do know how to “fix” a horse.  As a by the way, our son Eric once said:  “That horse isn’t ‘fixed’ (meaning gelded)… he’s broken.”

 Hmmmmm …

 It is true that Little Beth and I do get a great deal done when we are together and settling the problems of the world.  But I really don’t think the Lad in question has ever been so far on the edge of annihilation that his seat belt stopped his breathing.

Not yet …

It’s so comfortable sitting here in by big, manly, black leather poppa chair, after spending the last six hours hanging on to the cup holder in my Lady Wonder Wench’s car with my seat belt tightened to the tourniquet setting, as she went careening down the highway, making James Bond skidding hand brake turns, and hurling great Polish curses at the other drivers…one of whom must have lost control of his car as he was zooming down the breakdown lane, because his car swerved back on to the highway right in front of us at about 85 MPH. I estimate that he must have been getting about 20 miles to the fender. It was a long drive back home from a visit with my brother John and his wife Beth down in South Carolina. 

My Lady Wonder Wench likes driving, and I don’t care. I’d rather be flying my little airplane. I think the times they are a changing. I’ve noticed that more and more often, when a man and woman are in the car, it’s the woman who’s doing the driving. It didn’t used to be that way. It used to be that any guy who let that happen would have to spend the rest of his life disguised in a wig and sunglasses so none of the other guys would notice. In my home town…Brooklyn, it would have been grounds for admission to the Federal Helpless Husband Re-location program. It used to be that it was always guys who were in charge of crime, war, spitting, the TV remote, stick ball and highway driving. We figured we were the warriors, the providers, the drivers. We understood mechanical things like cars. When the check engine light came on, we knew what to do. We looked under the hood to check that it was still there. Stand back woman. I’m the man here.

In order to temper the terror of the drive a little, I started keeping track of bumper stickers, and I made a list of the very best 8 bumper stickers seen during the journey. I know you might expect me to pad the list to make it a top ten. I didn’t, because as they said in the movie “Airplane,” “That’s exactly what they’d expect me to do.” I think the decimal system is over-rated. If it’s so important, how come Christ didn’t have ten apostles?

Anyway, here are the top eight bumper stickers we saw on our trip. #8 – This car explodes on impact. #7 – Make love, not war. See driver for details. #6 – Gone crazy. Be back soon. #5- Horn broken. Watch for finger. #4 – To all your virgins…thanks for nothing. #3 – What rear view window. #2 – My other car is a broom. And #1 – Don’t take my signals literally.

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

1. What’s the latest French kink having to do with birds ?
2. Why should anyone named Robert be interested in a suckling calf ?
3. Who couldn’t get house flies to turn tricks ?

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

We had a great time with John and Beth. My Lady Wonder Wench and Beth get into conversations that seem to speed up to at least 60 MPH, with gusts to 90 when they start discussing husbands. And some of the conversations got pretty long and very deep. I think it was about 3AM the other night that we finally agreed that life is a series of connections, a collection of mistakes, and an occasional happy surprise. And love is like like, but much more confusing, and much better. And Big Louie’s most important bit of advice…”You can never tell when something wonderful is going to happen” got four thumbs up.

But John and I were only semi successful in convincing the ladies that being a man is hugely stressful. We tried to get them to understand that if we men don’t overcome our excess humility soon, we’re in big trouble. Women have no idea of the insecurities we face. What do you think we do in our private moments…in our private places…like the bathroom. Sure, we tell you we’re shaving. But actually, we’re so insecure that we’re also standing on the sink to see if our legs are too thin. We tell you we’re washing our face, but we’re really using the styling gel on our chest hair. You think we’re brushing our teeth ? Ha. We’re breathing against the wall to check our breath. You women have forced us into a curious combination of spiritual growth and groveling. But John and I have decided…no more groveling. If somebody wants to see some grovel, we’ll just smile, and hand them a few small pebbles. They can make their own grovel. They can make a grovel driveway as far as I’m concerned.

There’s a story about a different kind of very late night conversation in the Love Comes When You Least Expect It Personal Audio CD. It’s called, Beauty And The Beast. It asks a good middle of the night questions…like how long does real love last ? Sometimes it feels so real, that it will never end.  And once you’re in love, how long would it take to get over being in love ? Long enough to get past the first lie? Does real love last forever ? No matter what ? Or does forever only last till lies begin ?

Beauty And The Beast is from the Love Comes When You Least Expect It Personal Audio CD. If you like it, you can just keep the current podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, check out the Love Comes When You Least Expect It icon on the home page.

After surviving another highway trip with my Lady Wonder Wench at the wheel, I started thinking about NASCAR racing. Is it like the World Series in baseball? I mean, when a guy wins a NASCAR race do the guys on his team shower him with 10W 40 in the locker room? Then I was thinking is there some way I can calm my Lady Wonder Wench’s driving down a little? Maybe I could buy her a Ford Mustang, and alter it a bit…turn it into a Ford Gelding.

One thing even He can’t stop – wherever my Louie Louie Lad goes, I go.  He ain’t goin’ nowhere without me.

 As for closing eyes … ever see the kids’ movie Rapunzel?  Remember Eugene?  We’ve got our own Eugene and he is making our yard look even better than it did five years ago.  We may even acquire real grass … as opposed to wild strawberry and moss.  He and Jim spent two days and already I can look out that door and see:  loverly …

 And the best part is, the Lad won’t have to fall off the mower on the cliff in the back … and his ‘de’feet won’t have to bite him in the … and his cranky knee can stop cranking … and that not-so-small inside guy can rear up and feel successful ‘cause the Lad has earned every bit of aid and assistance I can arrange for him.

 Remember that marvelous song “Mud, Glorious Mud”?  Think:  spring, glorious spring.

It’s good to get off my feet…sitting here in my big, manly, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room. Tired feet are a problem for Louie Louie Generation guys like me. Getting off them is obviously a good first step…ditching shoes is good…soaking them in a shower…good stuff. But I found the best way to fix feet is with my head. I’ve found that’s also a good way to deal with defeat. Feet and defeat. I take a minute…close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and think about walking in soft sand, bright warm sunlight on my skin, gentle sea breeze…and I’m walking over to a beach blanket where my Lady Wonder Wench is waiting in her bikini, with a bottle of hand warmed lotion to give me a massage that starts at my feet, and keeps on going, and going and going. My feet usually just kind of forget they hurt. And nothing can defeat me.  

Tired feet hit us Louie Louie Generation folks at about the same time as everything in life is beginning to really click. Our knees are clicking, our elbows are clicking and I’ve actually heard an occasional clack from my neck. As I’ve told you, because of excessive kneeling in silent prayer as a youth, I have had problems with my knees, so I had a knee replacement. I think I got the last one they made for the out dated model knee with which I came equipped, but it worked out semi-ok

Big Louie, the Chief Mustard Cutter of our Louie Louie Generation always says, “When you get to our age, you should realize that at if at first you don’t succeed, the best thing to do is to try not to look so surprised.” I think a lot of times, when you’re at the age when you get married hoping Medicare will pick up the tab for the honey moon, you can forget what succeeding really means. Money really is a good measure of success, but it’s certainly not the only one. It depends on what’s really important to you. Some of the people I’d consider successful…I don’t even know their names…but to me…they’re awesome. Like the guy who first looked at a tall building and said…”My God…it scrapes the sky.” What a thought. How about the guy who invented the rubber duck for your bathtub? And who invented the rear view mirror?  Beethoven died a pauper. Harry Truman didn’t have much of a bank account either.

I don’t knock making money. I’d be delighted if you went to Amazon and bought a copy of my book Staying Happy Healthy And Hot for yourself and every one of your friends, and everyone in your neighborhood. But it’s ok with me if you don’t, because there’s stuff in the book about my Lady Wonder Wench that I want the world to know. I am so proud of her. So just getting the book out into the world, makes me feel like a success. If the world doesn’t read the book, that’s the world’s problem. I gave it the chance.

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

1- What don’t bison do well ?

2- Why don’t men own cats ?

3- What do poodles and Australian sheep have in common?

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

The trick to using your head to fix both your feet and your feelings of defeat, is that if you have a good imagination, the little guy inside who talks back to you, and wiggles your eyebrows when you see someone sexy, and runs around in little circles when the airplane hits some really nasty bumps…that little guy doesn’t see much of a difference between what’s actually going on around you, and what he’s imagining. So if you can get him to imagine good stuff, he can actually make you feel like that good stuff is really happening. Everybody has a little guy like that. He’s stronger and smarter in some people than in others. And it’s when he’s stronger and smarter that using your head to fix your feet and your feelings of defeat, works best.

Here’s a quick way to figure out if your little guy is strong and smart. Close your eyes, take a couple of deep breaths, and for ten seconds, try not to see a purple elephant. If you couldn’t help seeing the purple pachyderm, you’ve got a smart, strong little guy. It’s a help to have a strong, smart little guy these days, because we seem to be living in a time of Pessimist Power. Lying, stealing and cheating are all over the place. I got an Email inviting me to what was essentially a pre-fire-sale. Somebody has supposedly posted something really nasty about me today, and about a hundred guys want to hire them to get rid of the post. And lots of folks seem to be looking for a meaningful one night relationship. Then there was an actual headline in the Long Island Newspaper that said, “St. John the Baptist wins girl’s title.” Wait till the guys at the Vatican hear about that.

Lots of people are scared these days. Scared of all kinds of things. That’s reasonable because lots of times, there are things to be scared of. There’s a story about that in the Night Connections 2 Personal Audio CD. Been there, done that like the guy in the story . It sucks. The worst part is telling her. It’s also pretty hard explaining it to the kids, and the rest of your family. When that happens to a guy on the radio like it did to me, the whole city knows about it It’s a time when it’s really hard to remember that…you can never tell when something wonderful is going to happen.

“Not Again” is from the Night Connections 2 Personal Audio CD. If you like it, you can just keep this podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, check out the Night Connections 2 icon on the home page.

Our youngest relative, Cecelia, is three, going on four years old. Her favorite saying is “Shit happens papa.” She’s a smart little kid. But I’m a Louie Louie Generation guy, and I’ve figured out an interesting thing. Only about 30% of what I expect to happen really happens. That’s a fact. Both good stuff and bad stuff. About 30% is about it most of the time. This week, for example I was expecting a check…which arrived and didn’t bounce. But I was also expecting a problem with my FAA Flight Physical which didn’t happen, and a big bill for some work I’m having done on my plane, which also didn’t happen. One out of three. It’s almost always like that for me…and maybe for you. Think about it.

That means about two thirds of the time I’m worrying about something I expect to happen…I’m worrying for nothing. Maybe you too. The extension of that works too. Usually, even if the worst thing you can imagine happens, it’s only about one third as bad as you were afraid it would be.

That doesn’t mean you should never be afraid. There are things that scare the hell out of me. I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and I saw my Lady Wonder Wench lying on the pillow next to me…smiling in her sleep. I love that smile. But my feet were hurting…bad…and that made me start wondering how often I’d get to do that…see her smile like that…how much time do we have left together. It was a crusher. A terrible feeling of defeat.

So… how do I fix a bad feeling of de feat? With my head of course. I took a couple of deep breaths, closed my eyes, and grabbed that little guy inside me by the ears, and I made him see me standing…looking at the great God in His heaven…and I was telling God, “I’ve got nothing left. I used everything you gave me. Including all my Lady’s love. Especially my Lady’s love. If you are truly the God I think You are, you’ll let me see her…smiling…again. And you’ll never take her away from me…not ever again.”

I am still receiving all sorts of repercussions from my very innocent comment concerning sex – and even Molly and Tall Beth are feeling the Louie Louie heat.  But we stand by our words … we need sex as much as the Lads do; but we also need to be held.  You Lads are content with sex.  We are content with sex and the emotional contact (correct use of that word) that really good sex provides.

As for fear – our granddaughter lives in Watertown and she and her guy had cops and agents everywhere.  They also had us three hundred miles away and our daughter fifty miles away, worrying for all we were worth.  And the Lad is right:  go ahead, scare us all you can.  We will stand up and spit in your eye and we will never be so afraid we are frozen in place.  That’s what we do best in this country.  We carry on and take care of our people … and we win.

The Boston bombers gave us a gift. Fear. It was a little like 9-11…the kind of day when you wake up screaming, then you realize you were never asleep. You’ll always remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard about terrible things. Like when the first plane went into the World Trade Tower on 9-11. Let me go sit down in my comfortable, big, manly black leather poppa chair…before I fall down. Just thinking about it makes me feel like I’ve swallowed a sack of cement, and it’s beginning to harden. 

Do you ever wonder what goes on behind the scenes at a radio station when terrible things like that happen? Let me tell you a personal story. Once upon a time, all the way back when Louie Louie was all over the radio dial, I met my Lady Wonder Wench at  WBZ radio in Boston. She was in charge of the commercial schedule, and I was on the air. Radio was different in those days. And no radio station in the country was as different as WBZ. It was a giant. An “Everywhere Station.” Walking down the beach on a nice summer day, you didn’t need to bring your own radio. All the radios on all the beach blankets were always tuned to WBZ. It was before cars had air conditioning, so when you stopped for a red light with the windows rolled down, WBZ was on the radio in the car next to you. When we broadcast our Christmas show from Boston Common, the cops had to close all the streets around the park to accommodate the crowds. 

There have only been a few stations like WBZ. WABC in New York, WLS in Chicago, KDKA in Pittsburgh, KFI in Los Angeles…monster fifty thousand watt stations that pretty much covered the whole country at night. They were the stations on the transistor radios kids hid under their pillows to hear Louie Louie, and Can’t Get No Satisfaction, and She Loves Ya Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. But they also had real people on the air. Guys who told jokes, and stories, and sometimes kept callers from jumping off tall buildings between the music. And they had other guys who really cared about the news, keeping you informed about what Castro was doing with his Russian rockets, and what Martin Luther King’s dream was all about, and…and…Dallas. And John F. Kennedy.  

John F. Kennedy. From Boston. Unless you were there, you can’t possibly imagine the horror of that day in Boston. Try to imagine telling jokes and stories that day to people who walked the same streets he did, and went to his church on Sundays, and to the same parent-teacher meetings. It didn’t happen of course. Most of the guys on the air were in their 20s or early 30s. We were pretty good at jokes and stories. But only “The Old Man”, Carl deSuze knew what to do. He taught us all a lesson…one that helped me when Martin Luther King was shot, and when the Newark Riots broke out while I was at WNBC. Carl was ancient as far as the rest of were concerned. He must have been in his late forties. While we did record hops for some extra bucks, Carl did lectures…based on his world travels. He knew the Kennedys personally. He often hung with them at Hyanis on the Cape. 

Carl had been WBZ’s morning man since 1945. And he understood what radio was really all about. It wasn’t just jokes and stories, and rock and roll, and news about people far away. Actually, now that I think about it, it was about telling stories. It was also about being a friend. A friend you could count on when you hurt…to do whatever he could to help…including telling you stories to make you feel better. He took the station’s remote broadcasting unit down to the Common…that’s a park right in the middle of the city…and he told stories…gently…for hours…about the dead man we knew as the President, and he knew as…a friend.  

That’s the kind of thing that goes on behind the scenes at radio stations on terrible days like that. Been there done that lots of times. This time…the night of the Boston bombing, I sent a note to Peter Casey, the Program Director at WBZ. The note says, “I would give almost anything to have been on the air with you tonight. I was on the air when JFK was shot, and when King was killed. I always felt like I could put my arms around the people who were listening. The station was like a giant shoulder for people to lean on…a gentle place to fall…and a powerful helping hand to stand up again…taller and even stronger than before. 

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

1-    Where are the cities most often hit by hurricanes?

2-    What’s the fastest animal on earth?

3-    How can you tell if it’s a REALLY quiet night in town? 

And…the answer to the question we asked last time…Who said sex is the biggest nothing of all time…was Andy Warhol. 73% of women got it right, and 43% of men got it right. 

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

I put some of my note to WBZ’s Program Director Peter Casey up on the blog as a Dickie-Quickie this week. And it got lots of reaction. Here’s a note that will give you a little more of an insight into what happens at a radio station at special terrible times. It’s from a radio guy by the name of Mike Tearson. He said, “I understand. I was on the air the night John Lennon was killed. It was one of the most difficult nights I ever had on the air. That special relationship between us behind the mic and the people at the other end is a bond to be valued.”  

But how about what goes on at the other side of the mic. That Dickie-Quickie note I put on the blog a few days ago got a lot of attention. Here’s a note from a woman I am proud to call a proud podcast participant. It’s about her reaction on that terrible day in New York. Ellen is a doctor. She said, “Your thoughts about how broadcasters feel on terrible days are important to those of us who are physicians and other first responders. On 9-11 many of us had only hand held radios to keep us informed, and to comfort us as we faced an unknown enemy and a fearful future. I left my midtown Manhattan private practice office heading downtown on Fifth Avenue toward the Towers to help. I was wearing my white coat, with my stethoscope in my pocket, and my hospital ID in my one hand, and of course my radio in the other. I was wearing heels…I didn’t have sneakers or flats with me, and I was, of course, praying.” 

Praying’s not a bad idea. It looks like the bad guys are sneaking out of their holes. And that means some of our people are going to get hurt. If you’re scared, don’t be ashamed of that. It’s only when you’re scared that you can have courage. Having courage doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you simply know there are things that are more important than fear. 

So the Boston bombers gave us a gift. Fear. Among other things, a good hard shot of fear can be a sudden reminder that you’re alive. What a gift.