One Moment Out Of A Life

I’m sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather pappa chair in my living room, getting ready to ache all over. I’m thinking maybe I should have my entire body surgically removed while that’s still an option. I’ve been throwing out boxes full of…stuff. You’ve got to get rid of your junk every decade or so. And you’ve got to be heartless. Because a lot of that stuff…you thought was valuable enough to store away in the first place. I came across old pictures…that’s they’re really tough stuff to throw out…because they’re really scraps of your life.


I found a picture of myself when I had a mustache. I liked that mustache. It was like having a little pet right there on my lip. But one of my daughters called it the lunatic fringe. There was a picture of my Lady Wonder Wench taken at sunset at the Grand Canyon…with a look on her face that I remember well…because I had never seen it before, and I haven’t seen it since…that day. That picture kind of knocked me off balance for a moment. An unexpected picture of a beautiful woman can do that. Just the kind of expression she has on her face. I’ll tell you more about that in a minute.


There were pictures of family vacations with a car full of kids. You should never have more kids than you have car windows. Some old pictures of me on the air at WNEW in New York. New York is full of instant choices. One glance around you and you can look at the most beautiful woman in the world, and next thing you know, you’re looking at the craziest guy in the world…all in one shot. You can get run down by a pedestrian in New York. And New York in the summertime is a huge garden of highly suspicious smells.


There’s a picture of a grammar school buddy of mine. Eddie Kelly. Eddie came from a broken home. And I think he’s the one who broke it. I ran into him waiting for a train at Penn Station a few years ago, and we were talking over old times. And he’s become really nasty. The only thing he remembers fondly from the old days is his hair. I guess he got nasty because when he got a little older, he was always having problems with the kind of girls who had something against lice infected back hair. And he had these weird orange teeth, because he was always eating Cheetos.


There’s a shot of my high school girlfriend…Doris. Doris had the first designer jeans in the neighborhood and she wore them well.

I would like to think that when Doris grew up, one of the regular problems in her life would be the body lotion stains on her carpet.


Hey, how come designers get to put their name on your jeans, but they would have you arrested if you tried putting your name on theirs ? Doris had a poodle too. Nutty looking little mutt. I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of some way out religious cult.


I have a theory that dogs are very respectful of humans, because we come home from the supermarket with an amazing haul. A couple of chickens, a bucket of pork, half a cow…they must think we’re the greatest hunters on earth.


Here’s a shot of Father Dan. He was a little different kind of priest. I suspect that by now, he has been caught walking up to one of the more attractive nuns in church with some line like, ”Hi…do you come here to pray often my dear?” He reminds me of the Rev. Father Flowers in the Night Connections album. I’ll tell you about him in a few minutes.


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


1- What legal adjustment seems like a good idea concerning the “Mile High Club?”

2- Who did Ronald Reagan call “The Little Schmuck?”

3- What four letter word won’t you find in these podcasts/blogs ?



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


I promised to tell you the story of The Rev. Father Flowers from the Night Connections personal audio cd. That’s not his real name of course, but his story is based on something my Lady Wonder Wench told me really happened to a friend of hers, a long time ago. And it’s part of the current podcast.


I wonder what kind of memories were playing themselves out in the Reverend’s mind that night. And in his heart. Looking at a pretty lady, maybe a couple of kids who could have been his…how could you blame him for that? Even a holy man’ heart is made of flesh. And how about her husband…watching the priest give her the flowers. Watching the expression on her face…as she accepts the flowers from him…and holds them up to her face to smell the fragrance. Fragrances carry very powerful memories. That’s why there is perfume. 


The story of the Rev. Father Flowers is from the Night Connections personal Audio cd. If you like it, you can just keep the podcast. Or if you want a fresh copy, just go back to the opening page of this website, and download it from the Night Connections icon.


Every decade or so, If you’re a member of the Louie-Louie Generation, Big Louie, his own bad self, the chief mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation says “If you don’t throw stuff out, you’ll have to move to a bigger house.” Some of the stuff you find in those boxes you can just chuck out and wonder why you kept it. Some stuff…like some expensive but outmoded recording equipment I found…that’s a little hard to get rid of. It still works. But I haven’t really used it in years.


But a few things you come across will make you sit down…kinda hard…and it must be the dust…yeah…it must be the dust that irritates your eyes and makes them water a little. Especially the pictures. Memory flakes of the way we were…before we had any idea of the way we would be…when we became the us that we are now. 


There was a picture of me at a high school swimming championship meet. I remember how torqued I was because I came in second. When you think about it, I should have been thankful, because second in a city like New York is not bad. I wasn’t nearly as thankful as I should have been in those days.  But I sat and looked at that young guy for a while, and tried to remember how he felt. He didn’t know enough to be afraid of anything. Gotta check around inside and try to get more of that feeling back. 


And I came across a picture of mom and dad while they were much younger than I am now. I spent a little time with that picture, bringing them up to date on some of the things that have happened since they had to leave us. And this time…I did remember to say thanks.


But it’s the picture of my Lady Wonder Wench… I thought it was unusual when I took that picture all those years ago. But it was a lot of years ago. I never saw her look like that before, and I’ve never seen her look like that since. So that picture caught an important instant. Something was going on in her head…and probably in her heart…right then…right at that instant.


I asked her about it. And she said “Yes. You’re right.” And then she gave me that soft Lady Wonder Wench smile.


You almost have to be a member of the Louie-Louie Generation… you’ve got to go through a few decades of throwing stuff out of

your life…even memories, and expensive stuff…sometimes even people, before you can get it through your head that throwing out all that stuff you thought was expensive, and important  enough to store in the boxes is the only way to discover the real treasures that have been in your life for a long time.

3 Responses to “One Moment Out Of A Life”

  1. aliasJean Fox says:

    I brought lots of boxes with me when I moved west 10 years ago. I’m just now able to go through them and discover old treasures. Like you, am passing some to the round file, to other people, and to family for whom I was keeping the item.
    The tiniest thing can bring back a flood of memories. Makes it worth digging through the boxes. Thanks for sharing.

  2. Betsy says:

    I’m reminded of a cartoon, a bunch of Louie Louie generation guys sitting around in a circle and the title was something like “Support group for men whose mother’s threw out their baseball cards.” Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Yogi Berra, Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax……..ok, I’ll stop. 😉

  3. Don Miller says:

    Memories, things that make us smile. Your favorite marble, the one that helped you win the neighborhood championship when you were younger. A board game you and your friends would play for hours on end during the summer. Yes, we tend to hang on to the stuff, then we either loose it or put it up in the attic. We then replace them with other memories, the pictures that you took while you were on vacation. The beautiful sunset, the one you have never seen before or since. It always gives you a warm feeling, when you look at it.

    As we get older some of the memories fade, til we’re up in the attic and find the sack of marbles you thought were gone for good, but were hiding to bring a smile to your face. Then your child or your grandchild find you in the attic and ask you “what ya doin?” This happens right after you find the board game you and your friends used to play. Removing the top and your grandchild asks if you could play? You say of course and all the memories come flooding back. You find some chairs and a table to set it up on and you hear Rob, Tommy, and John sitting there all laughing a having a good time. You then understand, that as part of the Louie, Louie Generation, you need to pass on these and other memories.

    Your own Lovely Lady pokes her head up into attic and sees the two of you playing like you did in days long past, and your grandchild learning new memories that will stay with him or her long after the game is finished.