I just made “Penny” cry. And I love it.Proud PodProgram Participant “Penny” from Long Island (New York) sent an email that said, “I was listening to the ‘Good Night’ PodProgram in my car, and it was still playing when I got home and I had to sit in my car until it was over.” Then she said, “Your stories always make me cry, even the happy ones. It’s embarrassing.”
Tears are worth the embarrassment.
When I was on the air, I loved making people cry. Because that meant I was making some kind of emotional connection with them. Radio was good at that. Especially middle of the night radio. But weirdly, that’s one of the reasons I got fired from so many radio jobs. Big boys don’t cry. Radio is run by big boys. Big boys who are afraid of being embarrassed.
I understand the Big Boys Don’t Cry mentality. I’m a member of the “Louie-Louie Generation” and I think we invented it. (Louie-Louie was an old song that was supposedly “dirty” and was therefore the perfect anthem for my pre-politically correct generation.) Louie-Louie Generation guys NEVER cried. We were tough, silent, and completely insensitive to pain…and everything else. We had both of our feet firmly planted on the ground. Our middle names were John Wayne.
And that was me. Cry ? How embarrassing. Ha!
I was in the third grade when my dog “Whistle” ran after a car… and caught it. I stood there biting my lower lip…right in front of a couple of my buddies…including Johnny T. Johnny was the toughest third grade guy in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York. He looked like the front end of a 1955 Buick… and he weighed about the same. He liked to start every marble game by crushing two of somebody else’s “shooters” in his left hand. Johnny was the only guy I ever knew who hit almost three sewers in stickball… sometimes one handed.
“Whistle” was a little black and white mutt puppy that my Dad brought home from the ASPCA one day. All the guys liked Whistle. When we went for bike rides, Whistle would run along behind us barking at every step. Every other block or so, he’d stop at a fire hydrant to mark his spot, then he’d run like mad to catch up, barking and jumping and running around our bikes.
The vet put Whistle “to sleep” right there while we watched… on the front stoop. And everything got very quiet for a couple of minutes. And I lost it. And so did Johnny. I saw him do it. And he knew that I caught him. He just walked away…fast.
I saw Johnny again years later, at the St. Gregory’s 25th reunion. He’s a successful dentist now, living on Long Island. Nice guy.
But I made the mistake of mentioning Whistle to him, and after all these years, he actually got a little hostile. He denied even remembering Whistle. And when I mentioned the fact that it was the first time any of the guys had seen either one of us cry, he actually walked away…after all these years.
Tears can turn you inside out. Or maybe it’s the other way around. When you’re very sad you tend to cry…and when you’re very happy, you also tend to cry. And sometimes right in the middle of laughing as hard as you can, you start to cry…and occasionally it works back around the other way. Wouldn’t you say that means tears are pretty special? Doesn’t it mean that if tears are a reaction to both sadness and joy, they must be very natural, very human, and very important ? So why should we be embarrassed when we’re “caught” crying? Especially men.
Summer’s Theory: Anger is the only emotion men are “allowed” to show. That’s why talk radio, sports and war are so popular with men. But like it or not, even men have buckets of different emotions sloshing around inside. And when we start huffing and puffing, and we heat up all those buckets of emotion, they start making steam…and the pressure can build pretty high. So a guy has to hang on with both hands to keep the lid on…otherwise… “Boom.”
But you’ve got to let go of yourself…at least with one hand… to make a connection. And that’s why so many men have such a fear of reaching out…connecting…touching…with their wives, girl friends…or any body. Pressures get nasty. Let go for even a moment, and an explosion can blow up your life.
That’s what happened when my Lady Wonder Wench came into my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did, and the pressure inside went way up into the red. When I let go of myself long enough to lean across a table… to touch her hand…and she didn’t pull away…I blew… sky high. That was a long time ago.
And ever since that night all those years ago, I’ve loved it up here…in the air…like I loved being on the air. Screw being embarrassed…even when it got me fired. It was the touch…the connection…I needed it. I still need it…more than I need to avoid the embarrassment of crying…sometimes.
So… thank you Penny for letting my PodProgram story make you cry.
Summer says: “Show me somebody with both feet firmly planted on the ground, and I’ll show you a person who can’t get his/her pants off.”
DICK’S DETAILS – The answers are in the current PodProgram.
1- What do I insist you keep away from my hamburger ?
2- What medical procedure am I pretty sure first happened in Central Park at midnight?
3- If 3/4 of the men in the US are content with their lives, what about the rest of the guys ?
Scoring: 3 right – First Class Non Stop.
2 right – Non Stop Coach.
1 right – Stops in Atlanta, Chicago and Dallas – Standby Coach.
0 right – Anchorage – Cargo Bay. February departure.
What have we learned: I got fired from a lot of radio jobs. Big deal. Be careful of playing marbles with dentists on Long Island. And most important, The Guy Who Made you gave you tears. It’s a gift. Nice touch. It’s really not polite to be embarrassed when Someone gives you a gift.
Would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment by clicking on the “Comment” button below, or just drop an e-mail to www.dicksummer.com