It is so?comfortable, sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room. I guess part of it is that as a Louie-Louie Generation guy, I'm past the age where I always have to prove that I'm just as good as I never was. Louie-Louie Generation guys are comfortable. We know that "He who dies with the most toys wins." But on the other hand, we also know that he doesn't get to play with them, because he's dead. The Pimple People haven't figured that out yet. They're not comfortable. They're always scrambling trying to catch up with us. Big Louie, his own bad self, has a statement for the Pimple People. He says, "Pimple People of the world, you shall indeed inherit the earth?after we're done with it."

I'm always amazed at how un-comfortable Pimple People guys are. This is no kidding. You can't make this up. There is a National Coalition for Men. Their stated goal is to "Help emotionally adrift men." They deal with big deal problems like should a man open a door for a woman? Should he talk about his feelings? And most amazing of all is their top topic: What is the role of the male in this increasingly complex society? Louie-Louie Generation guys have a very simple answer to all those Pimple People Problems. Big Louie, his own bad self says, "Just don't hurt anybody, and do what's comfortable for yourself." That ought to do it.

Tonight, I'm the masked man?sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather poppa chair in my living room. The mask probably isn?t important. You probably wouldn't recognize me anyway without my blue leotard and red cape, with the big L for Louie on the back. If you?re new to this podcast, this is about life for the Louie-Louie Generation?lads and ladies for whom that song has been a big part of the background of our lives.

It's not just about age. It's actually mostly about 'tude. Attitude. We've got it. We don?t age. We ferment instead. I?m hiding my face from Face Book. And not only am I not a Face Book friend, I am a twitter quitter, and painful as it may sound, I've lopped off my link at linkedin.

I'm not anti-social. I just think some people take the word "friend" kinda lightly. Or maybe I take it too seriously. But I really love my friends. I don?t have very many of them, and you know who you are. You have my email address and my phone number. You can get in touch with me any time you feel like it. You know I look forward to hearing from you. And you don?t even have to call before you drop in.

But just because I met someone in the supermarket check out doesn't mean that person is my friend, regardless of how the Face Book folks see it. We all have to perform the "How are you,""Have a nice day.""Let?s get together sometime soon" supermarket check out act sometimes. It's ok. But I don?t want to perform all the time.

I'm looking at a dangerous new 32 inch wide flat screen hole in my living room and in fact in my life and yours. You can disappear down that hole... and boldly go... nowhere. And lots of people do. As you may have figured out, I had to replace an almost perfectly good twenty some odd year old TV set before its time. I wanted to wait till I could afford a new 3d TV, so I could watch Catherine Zeta Jones movies the way they were intended to be seen. Through slightly steamed up glasses. But my trusty old Zenith was driving me nuts with the closed captioning which it decided to turn on all by itself, and I couldn't turn it off... without the original changer, which has long since joined the original rabbit ears in Howdy Doody Heaven. And I didn't want to hear what most of the tv people were saying the first time around, without having to read it fifteen seconds later, in a voice recognition printout that has switched the language to the Klingon setting.

A long time ago, when the kids were little, I always wished there were an early morning kids show called, "Let's Go Back To Bed And Sleep A Little Longer." It would be a puppet show like Howdy Doody. The Howdy puppet would say things like, "My it's early." Then he'd yawn and say "I'm still tired. Let's all lie down and be very quiet till about 8 Am." I think it would have been a smash hit with daddies. And that's where the commercial money is. But only until daddies hit 49 years old.

The most popular story downloads of the past four years.

The Tiny Lady Comes In Second.

I would have forgotten our 4th Anniversary, except for Proud Podcast Participant Betsy Kemp.

I'm licensed to carry a pun. And I had to use it this time.

The show is called, "Tune In And Laugh At American Guys... Ha Ha."

What lights your limbic system? Here's ten of my top limbic system lighters.

March to a different accordian with me. Send "well" to hell.

I love being invisible. It let's me get into your head.

Sweat is good for the mind and body. Especially when some bodies are involved.

He was a comic book character with a huge heart. Wolfman Jack. "Wolfie" and I had a couple of things in common.

If the names Hendrix, Morrison, or Clapton mean anything to you, you should know about the man who said "no."

Would you care to drop over to my place, so I could show you my collection of fingerprints on the carpet...my dear?

That's what we used to tell each other. Remember?

I'd like to make the Fearful Fringe feel safe.

Our bodies are space ships, walking around on this strange blue planet. Some bodies walk a little nicer than others.

Ron Lundy died a few days ago. He was a big time New York disc jockey, and a friend.

Please don't hold a grudge at a guy who's made a smudge.

It's good to be back in my big, comfortable, black leather Pappa chair, popping percuset.

Guest host David Summer talks about Dick's recovery and another of those little misses.

Guest host David Summer talks about needful things and the little misses.

The Puma People of America is for Louie-Louie Generation folks who move like big cats, like having our backs rubbed, and spend as much time as possible brushing against certain nicely turned legs.

Bogart and Bergman got it right in Casablanca. Remember them when Cupid Calls on Valentine's Day.

What a time we've had. So far.

My dad was my hero. Maybe that's why I never got to know him better. I wish I had known him just as a guy.

It takes guts to play the Peek-a-boo-Game. It can tear you open. But maybe it's worth it to find out what you're supposed to be if/when you grow up.

A bug sitting on the wall, or on the floor is ok with Lady Wonder Wench. But when one lands on her needlepoint, it's time for me to put on my Indiana Jones hat...tilted 45 degrees to the left.

When you say 2010, it even has a happier sound than "twenty oh nine." It's like the difference in how you look when somebody is taking your picture and you say "Cheese"... instead of being a wise guy and saying "Limburger."

When my Lady and I took off for our traditional Christmas flight, most people thought we were looking for Santa. We weren't. And I'm glad to tell you that we did find what we were looking for...one more time.

Dave is my favorite Christmas musician. He keeps a tradition alive that goes back a long time. I have two other favorite musicians. But Dave is the go to guy at Christmas.

The only reason anybody pays attention to the Herald Angels, it that they're always saying, "Hark." You want' attention...do what the Herald Angels do.

If you tell me one of your Christmas stories, I'll tell you one of mine. You first.

DISCLAIMER: This does not mean that women are NOT saints. Nor does it mean that ALL men ARE saints. I would be thankful if you would remember that. After all, that's what Thanksgiving is all about.

Randy had a smile on his face that was so wide, his ears were drooping, he was wearing a sweaty sweat shirt & jeans, and he was carrying two very substantial gift pieces of trout. It's a good life.

Tossing out stuff that has been sitting in my closets. Tossed everything...even some memories. But not all of them.

Small changes make big differences. Here's a small change on the way too often told story of the evils of the pleasures of the flesh.

Just hit a big pothole. Hope I didn't break my Goodie-Grabber. I need one more Do-Over...right now.

There's a booger in Texas. And Burrbank is where they keep the cold, hard, cash. But Saturday nights you want to spend in Mississippi...because there's a place there called...YAZOO ! These are the musings of a slightly fermented maturity challenged mind.

There's one comforting thought when millions of us have our arms full of flu goo...there's a voodoo doll out there somewhere having a really bad day.

Those were the days. You'd put a barrel of warm milk out for your pet saber tooth tiger, and call, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty." Then you had to jump back pretty fast, because those guys didn't much care who they saber toothed. This time, we look back at some of the "Days"...and we're bringing some of the nights back.

You shouldn't go to bed with somebody you shouldn't go to bed with. But if you do go to bed with somebody you shouldn't go to bed with...skip the boxer shorts please.

There's hope when the dreams of the immediate future are kinder than the history of the recent past.

You can only hold your belly in for so many years. This is the story of the "R" word.

Big Louie, his own bad self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation has issued his first "Dirty Dog Alert." Why is "Dirty Harry" smiling when justice needs to be done ?

A long look in a full length mirror, and seeing reflections of the Midnight Ladies of Midtown Manhattan.

A couple of emails, and a really dumb thing I did this week made me think pretty hard about this one.

The guy on the cover of the magazine is young. He looks like he forgot to shave for a couple of days before the photo shoot. More than likely, he holds several scoring records, many of which are not in recognized sports. He likely has women he doesn't even know running around his house in high spiked heels, doing floor exercises while wearing sweat pants from Victoria's Secret, and arguing with each other over who gets to give him a back rub with her carefully manicured nine inch fingernails when he gets home. But I'm better off, because of the fingerprints on the carpet.

This is the story of a memorable dining experience. Some people know the high hopes that come during the first few hours of a diet. Other people just drown their sorrow with Redi Whip. The best place to figure out who belongs to which group is a table near the salad bar at a diner. We can watch an endless array of human dramas play out there behind the beets...if we don't let the lettuce get us.

Some days you're the bird, and some days you're the statue. I've been Lawn Tractor Man, Life Guard, Pilot, Late Night Radio DJ, Hunky Husband, Dad, and lots of names I won't mention. But now...I'm Glasses Guy. This is new for me. It's going to take some getting used to. I started thinking, why couldn't this work around the other way. Instead of starting to have trouble seeing, why couldn't I start being hard to see...like becoming invisible. Try thinking about those possibilities without getting a smile on your face that lasts for at least three weeks.

I don't mind people looking at me and saying, "He's getting older." But I don't ever want people to look at me and say, "He's getting old." The difference is Attitude. Louie-Louie Generation Guys and Dolls are riding our exercise bikes, while our kids are driving cars. No question...things are changing. But unless you're sitting in your rocking chair, but can't make it go, or you get winded playing chess, you don't have to get old. But it takes more than just wishing. It takes attitude. And by the way, be careful what you wish for. You might get it. Like I did. Listen.

What's a Louie - Louie Generation guy supposed to do when he needs a back scratch, but Catherine Zeta Jones is off doing a movie? Who's going to go and get him something cold from the fridge when an overwhelming thirst for something cold strikes but Angelina Jolie is having a night out with the girls? Here are some of the answers to burning questions like that. You will experience the solo pleasures of the Retro Rub. Writhe with pleasure with a thorough Scalping. And sop up the very good vibrations of Sniffing and Sneezing. Dig right in.

There is only one explanation for why I bought my Lady Wonder Wench a brand new, hideously expensive car today. And that explanation can in no way be considered reasonable. But I'd do it again.

The title is a very bad pun. But the story is a very happy one. It's about shirts, and the people who wear them. Especially one person who wore a shirt that seemed magic to me.

Actually, this is our third anniversary plus a month. I promised to tell you about the top five podcast downloads of the year at each of our anniversaries, so I guess it's better late than never. One important observation for you guys from Big Louie, his own bad self... the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation this week: "Sex is better than cutting the lawn, no matter what your wife tells you."

Elbow Grease can make you the King Of The Road. Just roll down your car window, and stick your left elbow out there into the sunshine. You'll have an instant, "Beam me up Scotty" moment. The dark clouds will disappear. You will be 18 again. You will spend all of your spare time doing shower duets with the companion of your choice. Think I'm kidding... try it.

We need all the help we can get. The economy is in trouble, we've got wars breaking out like pimples, and our satellites are getting taken out by space junk, so we ought to be listening for some new ideas.. even nutty ones. But we're just yelling at each other. Time to take a tip from my Lady Wonder Wench. Whisper.

Google lurks somewhere down deep inside your computer. And it knows everything. It's like the wise guy who sits on the mountain top and tells you the true meaning of life...or that little voice inside that when you screw up keeps saying..."I Told You So." So, I'm giving my "little voice inside" a name. It's kinda like Google. So I'm calling it Giggle. You have a Giggle too. And I'll bet you find your Giggle in here...just waiting to say, "I Told You So."

There are some high profile guys like John Travolta, Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise who fly their own planes. But most pilots...big plane pilots and little plane pilots, are like me...just guys who like to fly. Here's why we like to fly.

Life is like a giant roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes. Get a little summer love while you still can.

People who are not guys understand this stuff better than people who are guys. So in trying to figure out stuff like why kissing is more important than grabbing, I made a list of the different players in the Love game. That's why it's called Summer's Love Lineup. To figure out where you're batting in the order, listen here.

My Mom knew the two secrets to living a successful life: 1 - Wash your hands. 2 - Stand up straight. Being a mom was her career. But she was also a pretty young woman. What was life like for that pretty young woman... I still wonder.

The evil TV spirits are out to get us. Witches draw a line around themselves to keep the evil spirits away. I'm trying it !

I like lady sounds...long fingernails clicking while they're giving you a back scratch, snatches of songs that make the dishwashing easier, high heels clicking on hardwood floors, and best of all...a certain Lady's laugh.

Life is good. There's a new little girl in our family. Her name is Cecilia. And she is absolutely beautiful. She has her Grandmother's half smile. Live is very, very good.

When you walk into a dentist's waiting room, knowing that in a few minutes he's going to insert a three foot long needle into your mouth, one of the last things you want to see is a dead goldfish floating at the top of his fish tank. But that's not quite as bad as walking into a waiting room full of sick, bleeding, and semi-dead people at a doctor's office, and finding a BIBLE ! Even worse is coming home and hitting the blinking light on your voice mail, and hearing something like the Personal Audio in this week's Good-Night Podcast.

You could get used to taking vacations. Some people like to go on cruises. Others like to climb mountains. A few go white water rafting. I went to Florida...and almost became an orange. It was wonderful. Got me thinking about my fifth grade summer vacation. Guys had completely different fifth grade vacations from girls. Trust me.

When you see a "light at the end of the tunnel" and all you can think to yourself is, "Oh God, I hope that's the bathroom"...it's time for a VACATION. Watch out lobsters...starting tomorrow, my Lady Wonder Wench and I are COMING TO GET YOU.

I think as far as women are concerned, guys are mostly like big dogs who can talk. They have a point. We like to curl up in bed with them, we like to lick them, and we tend to be very messy. But I think that deep down, women have a hunch they could get along quite nicely without us. Somebody once said, "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Well... maybe so. But on the other hand... what would women do without us when a big ugly bug lands on your kitchen table ? Huh ?

It is easy to become an expert at resting. However, that does not do wonders for certain physical attributes... especially your buns. And women are big believers in beautiful buns. This is the stirring story of how one Louie-Louie Generation Guy came to grips... so to speak... with his decreasing impact on beautiful women due to his decaying buns. If this has not yet happened to you... it will.

I love you are only three words that get more attention than Once Upon A Time. Those three words make you want to curl up in front of a fireplace, light a few candles, put on some nice music...maybe a little wine...and close your eyes so you can enjoy what comes next. We have three stories for you this time. A story about a love that's dying...another about an old, hot, Louie-Louie Generation love... and a story that ties them together.

The calendar says Spring is coming. But Spring doesn't depend on a calendar. Spring comes when you take the chance on letting yourself feel like spring. There's good stuff and bad stuff about Spring. Especially about this Spring. We know...maybe way too much about the bad stuff. So let's take a look at some of the good stuff.

Auto Cannibalism is a condition that happens mostly to Louie-Louie Generation guys. Auto Cannibalism is when you bite your own tongue. When Auto Cannibalism strikes, your fingers get stiff, and then spasm back till they hit your knuckles.. you grind very naughty words out between your clenched teeth, and your eyes bulge out like they did when you realized you left your wallet with your credit cards, your pay check, and all your Ids back at the supermarket counter. My Lady Wonder Wench has an explanation for why we do it. I'll buy her explanation if you'll buy mine.

He was seen kissing my Lady Wonder Wench. She didn't resist when he unbuttoned her blouse. So why did I invite him to dinner at an expensive restaurant?

Once upon a time, there was a Pre-Louie-Louie Generation guy who was injured in a fight in the Navy. Maybe some guy took a swing at him because he had a funny name. The injury left him with a slight lisp. He had big ears too...and a big heart. Not exactly the makings of a career as a movie star. But that's what he was. The biggest...for a long time. He played tough guys with big ears...and big hearts. In other words, he played himself. His name was Humphrey Bogart. Some younger Louie-Louie Generation folks may not remember him. The rest of us will never forget him. Especially on Valentine's Day. Especially for the role he played in an old black and white film called, "Casablanca." He got it right in "Casablanca." He looked at Ingrid Bergman, who was possibly the most beautiful woman in the world at the time...and he said, "Here's looking at YOU kid." Bergman could fill the screen with just her eyes. And when he said that...she did. This is the story of a Valentine's Day dinner with my Lady Wonder Wench that I think Bogie and Bergman would have understood. Maybe you will too.

You have at least one secret name. Me too. Here's the story of my secret name. What's your story ?

Wrong! I do so think about some things besides sex. Here are some examples from this week.

Carly Simon was singing "These are the good old days" on my car's cd player, when I hit a speed bump. Check the headlines. "These are the good old days ?" Flash back to 1972 when the song was a hit. Watergate, Vietnam, The Munich Olympics. Some "good old days." But maybe she was right then...and now...if we pay attention to the Speed Bumps.

I've got my Indiana Jones fedora, my bathrobe with "The Wiz" embroidered on it...and I know how to say "SHAZAM!" But that's not what kicked my butt into (Pseudo) Super Hero orbit the other night. This is the story of what did it.

There's a New Year's Surprise this time. A big one. Because what we have here is another new year. Another new beginning. I like new beginnings. Especially the small ones...the ones only you and maybe a very few other people share. If you're not careful, they can get drowned out in the every day noise of your life. One of the nice things about the night is that there's some quiet...a little room...a safe place to remember some of those small new beginnings again.

This is about Christmas past with my family, and Christmas present with my Lady Wonder Wench. Life is good. It is very, very good. Merry Christmas.

The one word answer to the question on every guy's lips (both upper and lower) right now is, "Why do the Herald Angels get all the attention, and we don't get any?" It's that one word..."Hark!" Here's how we can work that word into our every day conversations so we can get some attention too.

Gene Chandler, The Singing Nun, and Frank Key all had one big hit. But the biggest One Hit Wonders were Joe Mohr and Franz Gruber. And I'll bet you know their song by heart. You'll also hear my favorite trumpet player this time, with one of the songs of the season. And we'll tell you how to avoid Growing Up.

A man's brain swims in a sea of testosterone, which absorbs some of the shock of getting hit in the head by baseballs, Yanni's music, and excessively high levels of verbal communication. Preservatives stop germs and fungus from maturing. Therefore testosterone is an anti-maturing chemical. That's the only real explanation for the Men are Saints Campaign. Happy Thanksgiving Recovery.

Here's the difference: Nighttime is the playpen of earthly delights...it's full of the sound of delicately perfumed black lace hitting the floor...strange soft noises in the attic...and unlimited access to ALL the Oreos in the box. As far as I'm concerned, it's appropriate that the meaning of the other word that sounds like morning is what you do at a funeral.

I now own an Indiana Jones fedora. My Lady Wonder Wench says it "Looks good when I tilt it rake-ish-ly to the left." Dum da dum da.... dum da dah....You heard the music didn't you. Indiana Jones is the perfect Louie - Louie Generation guy. In the latest "Crystal Skull" movie, when the bad guys close in, he says, "This used to be easier." Then he puts on his hat, grabs his whip, and starts to "do it to it." The Perfect Louie-Louie Generation guy.

We're simple. Women are not. Men aren't from Mars, and women aren't from Venus. We're both from good ol' Mother Earth. Deal with it. Men are competitive. Women are cooperative. Young guys sometimes forget that. Louie-Louie Generation guys know that when the lights are low, and the music is sweet, and the dress code is informal and minimal...when ladies want to hear those "three little words," they don't mean WE'RE NUMBER ONE.

You're in a rut when taking your tie off makes you think you've really broken loose at a party. Of course, some ruts are important. For example when you're flying your small plane, you should always land before you get out. But ruts can really wreck a romance. This time, we'll give you some things to do to keep you from turning yourself into a waste of skin.

"Their passions flared, and their worlds collided...." This is the story of a trip to the hardware store for a can of...DECK PAINT. I was determined to paint my back deck...in honor of my Lady Wonder Wench's blue eyes. "We don't PAINT decks, we STAIN them." the guy at the paint store said...with a voice full of di-stain. Oh Yeah ? It's my deck, and I'm PAINTING it.

Who Knows? Actually, Big Louie, His Own Bad Self, the Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation has a pretty good way to look at what's headed straight at us. You'll find out what he has to say, plus the solution to the Airline crisis, and the story of a young woman who knows when she's had...just enough.

Big dreams make people beat their chests and holler "WE'RE NUMBER ONE ! WE'RE NUMBER ONE !!" Other dreams ...after a tough day... just put a small voice in the back of your head that says, "Ok, try it again tomorrow." All kinds of dreams are good. Even the scary ones. But this is the story of the very best kind of dream.

I'm genuinely trying to find a doctor, and maybe you can help. He's not one of those plastic surgeons who specialize in giving Louie-Louie Generation ladies faces that look like 3 d smiley faces. This guy is an emergency room doctor, and I really need to thank him.

Here's the latest on my Lady Wonder Wench, and her halo. Plus some memories I think you may enjoy.

"Ribbit, Ribbit" may be the greatest opening line ever. Once upon a time, a long time ago, a frog popped a fly breath mint into his mouth, hopped up on a pretty girl's lap, looked at her seductively and just said, "Ribbit, Ribbit"...and she gave him such a kiss...that he turned into a prince. Or at least that's what she told her mother the next morning when she found the guy in her bedroom. There are some other great opening lines this time, and a closer or two.

When Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon, he said, "That's one small step for a man, and one giant leap for mankind."

My Lady Wonder Wench took just one small step in the doorway this morning, and changed a big, dark, musty house into my home again.

"Batching it" sucks. But if you do it right, you can make do with only one fork and one cup. Tv dinners come with their own plastic throw away plate, and you can spread peanut butter and jelly with a fork. My Lady Wonder Wench will be in the hospital for a while. But the point is that she will be coming home eventually. Meantime, the words of Big Louie, his own bad self come to mind: " Things won't be the way you remember them again, although that's what you might hope. Things are just what they are for a while, so be careful you don't slip on the soap." But the silence here since she's gone is hard to take.

My Lady Wonder Wench was in a serious accident, and I was amazed at the e-mails, and cards, and flowers, and even three Teddy Bears that came in...from all over the world. Thank you. You get lots of time to think in a hospital. I was thinking about a vacation that I always meant to take with W. Wench. It should go something like this.

There are a couple of things I never told you about my Lady Wonder Wench. One thing is that her middle name is Annie...and I sometimes call her by her middle name. Another thing is that she was just in a serious accident. And...God's Phone Is Off The Hook.

Most people knew "Al Sleet, the hippy dippy weather man." Some people knew the nasty, dark, dirty old man George Carlin became. I knew him only a little. I'm glad he died. Here's why.

Piano Man Meets Lawn Tractor Man in this epic struggle of two Super Hero Underachievers. There's a Beauty and a Beast in there too. This is one very unusual Good Night Podcast.

This is a special "Getting My Fanny In Gear" "Good Night" podcast. It includes a few minutes of a new album called "Night Connections 2." The working title is "My Buddy Billy's Babe." There's also an important question about "Curiosity" that Jack Sparrow made Elizabeth Swan think about in Pirates of the Caribbean.

Men are descended from apes. Women aren't. Leave a guy alone long enough and he gets ugly, hairy and nasty. Women don't. Where did we get women. For the first time since all those years ago when I first hung my old pair of jeans next to hers on the hook on back of the bedroom door we won't be sleeping together tonight. On purpose. And it's making my teeth ache.

Louie-Louie Generation guys can spot a BS artist, and jump start a car, and start a good fire in a fireplace. But getting some guys to just ... talk...to a woman...is like pulling teeth. But that's Dr. Toothgrinder's job. I had to go see him today...even though Big Louie, his own bad self always says..."If you don't want to sweat going to the dentist, but your teeth are turning yellow...just wear a brown shirt." Why did I go? Lust. Here's the story.

I don't know if the problem was caused by how late the surprise party has been getting...or if it was just the pretty girl in the short shorts and tight tank top that was causing the problem...take your pick. But the solution...at least for now...was in the five words, written with a felt pen on the back edge of a flag...by a buddy who listened to these podcasts...in Iraq.

If you live in an apartment with thin walls, you might have heard somebody shouting "Oh my God yes..." in the middle of the night...and it didn't sound exactly like a prayer. If so, you can be pretty sure somebody has opened the cage and let her little beastie out to play. This is how "Big Louie...his own bad self" says you should deal with your little beastie when times get tough.

Happy Second Anniversary. We've made it through two years together, and here's an offer of a free CD of the five most downloaded "Good Night" podcasts...free. No strings attached. No promotional gimmicks. Just a "Happy Anniversary" gift from me to you.

Louie - Louie Generation Guys are the bedmates of choice for super models, movie stars and smart beautiful women of all kinds because of our charm, poise and grace...and because some of us have a little money. Here are 20 of Big Louie's tips that can make even young guys somewhat more acceptable to lovely ladies.

There are questions like Who is God...and even who are you ? I have no clue. I can't even figure out why the windshield wiper on the driver's side always wears out before the one on the other side. And how come some women raise one foot when they kiss? Even the connection between sticking your tongue out and concentrating escapes me. I've come to the conclusion that maybe some questions don't really need an answer...and some answers don't need questions.

Fantasy is the difference between a woman wearing underwear and a lady wearing lingerie. Fantasies are sexy. "Sister Mary Knuckle Buster" probably won't like this, but in this podcast...you will be exposed (as it were) to one of the innermost fantasies of this Brooklyn kid.

There's no time to waste in New York. That's why most of what New Yorkers have to say can be summed up with one finger. You'll learn to speak New York in this podcast. You'll learn about Brooklyn fertility rites. You'll learn about Wolfman Jack on WNBC and Cousin Brucie (Morrow) on WABC. Life in New York can be a dog eat dog experience. But listening to this podcast will help you avoid wearing hamburger shorts when you visit.

Crayons are an example of little things that mean a lot. They've been around since the 1930s. So you have to figure all of today's big shots must have played with them as kids. President Bush, the Pope, Mucktada whatever his name is...all of them. Can't you see them as little kids...scribbling like mad in their coloring books...then running over to their mommies to show the results ? This time, we take a look at other things that mean a lot...including the one little thing that means...more than anything else in the world.

This is about the day when my Lady Wonder Wench turned into my Baseball Babe. It has to do with being stubborn, her brother Bob, and the Star Spangled Banner. It's also about an encounter with a nun sliding into second base brandishing a rosary with a 20 pound crucifix on it...then feeling guilty...so she went back to first...and the reason why no women will ever play major league baseball. In shore...here's one to offend everybody.

My Lady Wonder Wench is trying to improve my table manners. Frustrating. She says I should be more communicative, but then she asks me a question when I have half a hamburger in my mouth, and she tells me I shouldn't talk with my mouth full. I like the words of Big Louie...his own bad self: "Tis better to burp and bear the shame, than not to burp and bear the pain." But it's when I pick my teeth that I get the ultimate sarcastic comment...the sarcasm equivalent of the raised center finger...one raised eyebrow...and silence. It's awful.

It's a big thing when a woman trusts a man to feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep with him. The sleeping part I mean. Trust is a big thing. I think homeless people must be terrified when they have to go to sleep alone on the street. It can be a nasty world out there. This is about watching my Lady Wonder Wench sleep... comfortably. And about chasing my alarm clock around the room and smashing it against the wall, while I'm snarling something like, "don't tell me what to do buddy" at it.

Wonder Wench has stood by me through all kids to tough stuff. But she turns on me when I'm driving. One or two wheels come up off the ground going around a corner, and she shrieks. Bump up on the sidewalk to avoid a red light, and she hollers, "Watch Out." Scares the hell out of a guy. Find out how my buddy Al handles this kind of situation with his wife, and check out the status of the Summer Stumper in this episode of "Good Night."

Birthdays sneak up on you like a bug sneaks up on a windshield. My kids are now older than I think I am. This episode includes my new grandparent's prayer: "Dear Lord, please keep your arm around my kid's shoulder, and your hand over my mouth." And you get a shot at the new Summer Stumper: What is it without which an airplane cannot fly, but which is of no value to the airplane ?" And most important, a few words from Kris, that make another birthday...ok.

We are way too busy. Here's the solution. Pick one day of the week, and make it your DON'T DO WHAT YOU DON'T WANNA DO DAY (do wah, doo waahh.) On your D.D.W.Y.D.W.D.D. if someone says, "You've got to cut the lawn" just smile and say (do wah, doo waahh.) If somebody says "stick to your diet" on your D.D.W.Y.D.W.D.D. just say, "Eating is good for the farmers." The main reason many of you women are not married to George Clooney is because you didn't pay attention to your D.D.W.Y.D.W.D.D. The explanation is in this week's podcast.

Bogart got it right in "Casablanca." "Here's looking at you kid," he said. He didn't say, "Hey, look at my bankroll," or "Let me prove I don't need Viagra baby." He looked at Ingrid Bergman, who was possibly the most beautiful woman in the world at the time, and he just said..."here's looking at YOU"...and the screen was instantly full of her eyes. This is the story of a Valentine Day dinner with my Lady Wonder Wench, that I think Bogie and Bergman would have understood.

My 6' 8" buddy "Tinkerbelle" and his bride JoAnne did the deed. Fortunately, they avoided the "Number One Wedding Song of the Year"...and opted for part of the "Song of Solomon" instead. If you want to know what that has to do with spitting in the soup, getting kicked out of a gym for pulling a groin muscle that's not your own, and the Church's stand against Christmas, you'll have to listen to this week's podcast.

Any REAL Louie-Louie Generation Guy or Girl will know where Puff the Magic Dragon lived...although you may have forgotten. We do forget things don't we? My Lady Wonder Wench went to a Peter, Paul and Mary Concert...and it was something I don't think we'll ever forget.

What do Paul Newman, George Bush Senior, and Dick Summer have in common? Too many things to list actually...but here's one: WE LOVE GOING VROOM-VROOM. Certain Non-Guys may not fully appreciate what a double dose of VROOM does for testosterone soaked wretches. All they need to know about that, plus what Neil Armstrong said when he got back in the Lander to LEAVE the moon...is right here.

I have a soft living room carpet, because I like to walk around in bare feet...which leaves footprints. I do my daily pushups on the carpet, which leaves handprints. My Lady Wonder Wench always smooths them away when we have company. She says "People think we're kinky enough." This is the story of how those hand prints made a 25 year old body with the mind of a four year old.

My Lady Wonder Wench says, "The difference between men and boys is the size of their toys." Here's the story of SPEEDY...my latest toy. She's my brand new car... glinting gun metal grey in my driveway. She doesn't pull high "G"s leaving long trails of smoking tires and fiery exhaust...but she does go from zero to sixty in the same day...and legend has it she gets forty miles per gallon on the highway...which means she may get to replace my little blue blankie when it's check book time.

Chuckles are good....even when life is giving you a bad case of sweaty eyes. They give you a little space...a little time...a little hope...as long as you just avoid the temptation to look in the bathroom mirror in the middle of the night. When life sucks, this podcast will explain how you can dial up your 'tude, and smack it back with a big, bad, "Louie."

This is a modest but sincere Christmas present for those of you who like the Personal Audio CDs. CD Baby has a counter on the number of times various tracks are downloaded, so we know which tracks you like best. This podcast features the top five stories, plus a little background on each one. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.

We hear way too much of the Herald Angels at this time of year. What have they got that we don't have ? It's the word HARK ! That word gets your attention. If you want to get some attention, whenever anybody asks you a question, start your answer with the word HARK ! In this podcast, you will learn other ways of getting attention...and girls...at this holy time of year.

Anything that's been making people feel good for more than 2000 years is worth checking out. But it's old and fragile, so you can break it before you get to the check out counter if you're not crafty and careful. My Lady Wonder Wench and I are proud members of the Louie-Louie Generation...so we've seen a few Christmases...lots of them together...some of them apart. Looking For Christmas is what we do now...together. It makes us feel good...even after all this time.

In the beginning, she was my secretary, and I was the boss. Somehow, that chain of command seems to have changed somewhat over the years. Some of you are SHOCKED! SHOCKED I TELL YOU!! That I would call my Lady, "Wonder Wench." She makes a personal appearance this time, to tell you how she feels about that. And this is the story of how it started one Christmas...a long, long time ago.

"Holly Jolly Christmas" is wonderful. So's Winter Wonderland. Jingle Bells rocks the cash registers every year. But the biggest Christmas hit of all time is a song composed by two guys nobody ever heard from...before...or after. Lots of people thought it was composed by Beethoven, or Brahms...it's so beautiful. It sings the spirt of the season with grace, and beauty, and peace. How would you like to have the only song you ever wrote, become one of the most cherished songs ever written. That's the story of Silent Night.

A guy's brain swims in a sea of testosterone, which absorbs some of the shock of getting hit in the head by baseballs, Yanni's music, and high levels of excess verbal communication. Preservatives stop germs and fungus from maturing. Therefore testosterone is an anti maturing chemical. That's the only real explanation for the MEN ARE SAINTS campaign. Happy Thanksgiving.

I knew that if I hoped to ever have my Lady Wonder Wench climb down from on top of her dresser, I was going to have to face the beast. I was going to have to go mano a mouse-o. It was an epic struggle, but I eventually won. Sort of. He was about 3 ounces and three inches. I'm about 180 and 5 feet 10. In the end, he had guts. In the end, I had poison. He was jumping ten times his body size. I was falling on my fanny. I prevailed. But he did good.

Some tv commercials snarl at you...others cream...some croon, "Trust Me." I've done my share of them...like the commercials for the original panty hose that came in the plastic egg... and the "Cross Your Heart" bras...those were interesting recording sessions. We have commercials for "erectile dysfunction" now...but how come we don't have any for condoms ? I thought we were supposed to be "fair and ballanced." Then there's that George Clooney stuff...it's all here.

A waitress told me a wonderful thing yesterday. She said "You look borderline like Sean Connerly." Actually, I look more like borderline Harrison Ford...I think. But her comment started a fantasy about My Lady Wonder Wench, Rose, Bill...and me, a small airplane and a ski lodge. An incendiary combination you say ? You're right.

Louie-Louie Generation guys and girls could have a huge, national "Middle Of The Night Wandering Around" convention. It just kinda sneaks up on you an inch at a time. You guys will recognize the first symptoms when you find you're reading the directions before you put together the "Easy to assemble out door grill." Girls need to be careful when you notice that you've bought stationary with your name already printed on it. Here's the rest of the story.

Just because I now have grey hair, my chest has slipped a little, and when I fly my plane I have to stop and think which is the lever that puts the wheels down, and which is the one that stops the engine... that's no reason for the recently hatched embryo with a backwards baseball cap and a tasteful assortment of pimples and nose rings to call me an "Old Man." Here's what I did about it.

We went to see the wizard...the wonderful wizard of Oz. He's alive and weird in Las Vegas. The secret story of two Vegas "Girls" this time, plus the old groaner about the "Chip Monks." Also...an explanation of why you should be careful about inviting a hypnotist into your bedroom.

Guys like very few things as much as giving each other a hard time. Especially guys who happen to be brothers. I'm not sure all guys give each other quite as hard a time as the hassles my brothers and I give each other when we get together. Here's what happened when my Brooklyn brother and I got together last weekend.

Wind, rain, high heels on marble floors, surf, leaves, a jet plane, computer keys, a telephone call in the middle of the night, your voice, your heart...they all make sounds. My dad made his living with music. He always said that the sounds make the notes, but the living makes the music. This is about living, and loving, and music.

We now have scientific evidence that drooling over a beautiful busty babe for 10 minutes every day is as good as a 30 minute aerobic workout for lowering blood pressure, cutting the risk of a heart attack in half, and improving the quality of life by zillions. The information in this podcast can actually add five wonderful years to a guy's life. Some heard hearted wives/girlfriends will not want their partners to know about this. Surely you will not be among their numbers !

Hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, heatwaves and ice storms get all the press. But it&s the soft, late summer rains, that make the holy water and mixed drinks of our lives. They calm us down better than any purple pill. They wash the air, and dissolve our inhibitions. Many a "relaxing moment" has been turned into a "right moment" in a soft late summer rain. This one happened right on my back deck.

We go to a restaurant called Manny-Hattan's...lots of New York pictures on the walls...the Brooklyn Bridge...Babe Ruth in his Yankee uniform...a famous picture of Marilyn Monroe at the Grand Central subway station. I have a picture of W.Wench taken in the Times Square subway station. I showed it to Steve, who owns the place...and he said let me put it on the wall...right next to Marilyn. I said GREAT ! W.Wench said...well...listen to the podcast...but I'll give you a clue...ask any woman you know how she'd like to have her picture on a wall right next to Marilyn Monroe.

I get lost a lot, and in order to get me home in time for supper, my Lady Wonder Wench bought me a shiny new calculating young woman who knows her way around. Louie- Louie Generation women need to learn how to deal with half ripe, shiny new, calculating 22 year olds. Big Louie, his own bad self...has some suggestions.

Never confuse a klunker with a junker. That goes for both cars and people. I drive a klunker...because I like it. It's like a mutt. You can park it anywhere, and not worry about getting it scratched...or stolen. If you come to a four way stop sign at the same time as a new Corvette, the guy in the klunker always goes first...we have less to lose. "Big Louie" always says, "There's a big difference between a klunker and a junker. A klunker is always worth...something"...that goes for cars...and people.

If you've ever had a physical exam, you know that rubber gloves are the worst kind of gloves. Rubber glove moments are usually nasty and quick. It's like you wake up screaming and you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet. You'll find out on this podcast what Big Louie says you should do about all rubber glove moments.

If there's really a heaven, are you sure you want to go? Maybe there's a better alternative. Better find out, before you find yourself all alone... in an empty doctor's waiting room...with a FATAL magazine...trying to figure out if you are a spirit with a body, or a body with a spirit.

"Maybe" the princess really did kiss a frog, and he turned into a prince...and that's why the Queen found a guy in her daughter's bedroom one morning. "Maybe" Cinderella and the other prince did live happily ever after. On the other hand, "maybe" it was the same guy, and he was really an out of work actor just "playing the part of a prince." "Maybe" is a slippery, squirrely word. Check out this podcast and find out why it's so important to all us "Louie-Louie Generation" people. You'll also find out why maybe George Washington wasn't really our first president, and why maybe you should call a sandwich a shrewsbury.

The word aerobic comes from the ancient Brooklyn word for "pain." Sometimes a "Whoops" gets in the way of a workout, partially due to that fact. Please listen before you fall into the trap of doing sit ups, or other harmful activities that could lead you to problems like "The Di Nero Syndrome."

When women watch a musician like Yanni toss his long hair while he's playing, they say, "oh isn't he wonderful." Then they turn to their boyfriends/husbands and say, "you need a haircut." So...eventually we go and get a haircut. They think that's easy. Actually, it's a ritual so dangerous it borders on human sacrifice.

Solitary sensual pleasures are an important part of Louie-Louie Generation lives. Here is your guide to Solo Scratching, Retro Rubbing, Scalping, Showering, and Sneezing. They are not only pleasurable, they are endorsed by Big Louie...his own big bad self.

A Toy Boy is not just a dyslexic Boy Toy. A Toy Boy is a "Louie-Louie Generation" guy who uses toys for the benefit of mankind...and the pursuit of woman kind. When a Toy Boy is asked when he's going to grow up, he holds up an object in the shape of a cross...made from tinker toys.

Some days, you just need a pat on the fanny from your girlfriend...like when your other girlfriend gets hurt...badly. This was one of those days. Boys with toys will understand.

What a stupid title for a song these days. Or maybe not. Is the glass half full, or is it half empty...or does that make any difference at all. This is a story about waking up with a picture of Hillary Clinton on my forehead...and going to bed with a little different way of looking at "A Wonderful World."

I found that I am suffering from "Precocious Ab Deflation." That's a highly technical term. It comes from the ancient Latin word "Pre" which means before...as in "pre-marital sex." "Cocious" is from the ancient Brooklyn word "cocious," which means "wise person"...as in "every winning team has a staff of wise cocious." So "Precocious" means what happens to you before you have a chance to get wise to what's happening. But I'm ok, because just in time...the Lone Ranger came to the rescue.

I passed my FAA Flight Physical the other day, courtesy of the fact that my Mother was a pincher. Try using the same technique I used next time you're going through some kind of crisis that makes the little voice in your head start crying for your mommy. It really does work.

Everybody needs a trophy...a prize for a lifetime of hard work. "Trophy" is from the ancient Brooklyn word "Tro", meaning to hurl an object... as in "I tro a baseball pretty hard." Fee is the Bar Association word meaning money. "Trophy" therefore means something at which I throw money. My trophy is my little airplane. And the boogie man is trying to take it from me. Some memories, some hopes, and one big fear this time.

She was packed into her blue short shorts like two scoops of cherry vanilla ice cream. Her stretchy halter top was stretched as far as it would stretch. She had just moved in a few months ago, severely disrupting the balance of estrogen and testosterone in the neighborhood...and she loved it. That&s what I wanted going on in my head on my bike ride. Instead, I got "My Boy Bill." The little voice in my head got the last laugh on me again.

Who were our REAL forefathers ? Why is California such a mess ? How did Bob and Kathy stay together ? Who bought all those Sony Naked Cams ? Get the alleged answers, plus the story of an out of breath woman and a sweaty guy in this week&s Good Night Podcast.

Toe nail clipping isn&t easy for a Louie-Louie generation guy. Each toe is a three breath affair. The Thumb toes are good for five. Toenail clipping has become so hard priests will start assigning it for penance. "You did what?? How often?? Well say three rosaries and clip your toe nails...that will teach you." But Louie-Louie generation people take heart. We may shrink, but we never shrivel.

Watch out when a sweet southern lady with big gentle eyes serves you some grits and syrup and gives you one of those classy smiles. Y&all can do you in. That&s what happened to Don Imus. It happens to me a lot. AND IT CAN AND WILL HAPPEN TO YOU.

Sometimes your head works behind your back. There&s some guy up there telling you what you should or shouldn&t do, and giving you a hard time when you screw up...AND YOU DON&T EVEN KNOW WHO THIS GUY IS. But you can put his smarts to work for you, with the Quiet Decisions technique in this week&s podcast. If he keeps giving you a hard time, tell him to back off, because you&re all you&ve got.

Doctors now claim that the reason men chase pretty young girls is that we have an overwhelming drive to spread our genes to succeeding generations, and mating with a young and pretty woman makes it seem more likely we'll do that efficiently. WRONG "Playing In The Gene Pool" exposes the naked truth in this cover up.

Soon, some terrorist will sneak into your bedroom in the middle of the night guys, and he'll shave a little bald spot right up on top of your head. You won't even notice till the next time you get a hair cut, and the barber puts that mirror around in back of you. That's the start. From then on, you're going to be on the watch for the young guys who are lurking in every corner, ready to pounce on your girl.

Pop is not a funny sound when it comes from your once magnificent leg while riding your bike. "Wear support socks" is a completely silly thing for a doctor to say to a sex symbol like yourself. But it happens. There IS an up side to it. And it&s part of this podprogram.

Men and women are opposite sexes. Not just different sexes... OPPOSITE sexes. That's one reason we have a lot to learn from each other. My Lady Wonder Wench told me the secret of happiness a long time ago, when she said, "Whatever you want". There's a story in here about a young guy who did just what he wanted to do with his buddy's half naked girlfriend. How do you think THAT turned out? Bet you're wrong.

You all know question number one; "If I died would you get married again ?" The ONLY possible answer to that potentially deadly question is revealed in this absolutely essential podprogram. And you will also find a workable answer to the even more deadly but less well known mighty question number two; "Were you a virgin when you got married?." Guys, you miss this podprogram at your own risk.

Bogart had it right in Casablanca. He didn't tell Bergman much about himself. It was all about her. "Here's looking at you kid" was mostly what he said. That's how you start a romance. Not a relationship, a romance. A relationship develops. A romance explodes. And after the explosion, there's nothing like a good back rub.

You know how things "go around"... a flu, a rumor, a hot tip? Well there's a bug going around...a nasty, ugly, very contagious growl. Left untreated, it can turn you into a cynic, or worse yet, it can give you political correctness. Here's what to do about it...and a story about somebody who ignored this warning. He fell victim to "The Prince of Fantasy".

Spiderman gave my buddies girl some great aural sex. (Aural with an A) He wove a web, and she wasn't strong enough to get away.

Serious New Year's Resolution this year is: "Crush Cynicism". Easier said than done these days. It seems that no matter how cynical you get, you can't keep up. So I'm not keeping up at all. My little 8 year old next door neighbor Emily, with her giggles and jelly beans, made me remember that the best way to solve a serious problem is with a silly solution. Try it. It worked for me.

Before there were discos, there were record hops. If you can remember record hops, you are a member of the Louie Louie generation. Louie Louie was the perfect guy dance. No complicated dance steps, and "the word" was that the words were "dirty" although nobody could really understand them. It was before political correctness, so it was ok to be dirty. If you are a member of the Louie Louie generation, you may need a daily minimum adult doseage of hope. Try this one.

This is a good argument for naked government. Research by Yale University Seniors has shown that when people hang around together in the nude, their conversation becomes "serious and philosophical." What a way to make Congress get serious and philosophical...Teddy Kennedy in the nude on the 6:30 PM network news. Just be careful of the concept on the beach on a soft summer night.

This is about Tinkerbell's tragic magic. Tink was in love with Peter Pan, even though society wasn't up for human-fairy marriages. She knew Wendy was going to win in the end. But she LOVED Mr. Pan. So she gave him her magic anyway. She just loved him. Tink was magic, but she needed us to clap for her to show that we believe, or she'd die. You've got to see Pulling-the-rabbit-out-of-the-hat magic to believe it. But you've got to first believe in Tink's kind of magic to see it. Tink's kind of magic is what can keep love going, even when we're a few weeks past the springtime of our lives. This is about clapping hands for Tinkerbelle...and keeping magic alive.

Introducing you to a voice that will never shut up. Now you'll never feel alone...even if you're all by yourself, sitting in a corner pigging out on fists full of Christmas fruitcake, swilling something frosty, and sticking out your lower lip because you're feeling left out of the Major New Years Party-ing.

Ask people if they've got "The Christmas Spirit", and some people say "Bah Humbug". Lots of people say "ho, ho, ho". Most people just say "Happy Holidays". And of course, a few people just say "Huh?" I don't find The Christmas Spirit in religion, presents, stories, poems nor even in music. A lot of people don't believe in it. I do. I've felt it. And I've seen it. Here's where I'll go looking for it again this year.

The biggest One Hit Wonder of all time was written because Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, one creature was stirring, and it was a mouse. David Summer makes a Grandfather, Father and Son connection and there's a story about NEVER Growing Up in this week's "Good Night".

Some people are SHOCKED ! SHOCKED I TELL YOU, that I would call my lady "Wonder Wench". She gets back at me this week. And a This Christmas love story about a love that started one Christmas a long, long time ago.

This time you'll find out why I claim that Men Are Saints. (The MAS Appeal). And learn about the salmonella poisoning you can get from eating turkey, which makes you crazy enough this time each year to rush down to the nearest mall and flatten your credit cards. Plus, we'll tell the story of "Beauty and the Beast".

Just a tiny clump of hair sets off a shriek heard from here to Labrador. A tale of lurking intrigue and falling down laughing at a major US Airport. And the Number One, El Supremo, Top Pick To Click cut from the Personal Audio Cds as reported by CDBABY.com - a story about a guy pretending he wasn't watching as the lady who used to be his wife crosses a downtown street, leaving him with a question that he'll probably never be able to answer.

The real difference between men and women is that we spit and scratch, and they dont. Another difference is that they do things to help us in an emergency, and we just grow a mustache. If you're getting a headache from this, I'll give you a back rub to make you feel better at the end of this PodProgram.

What kind of parties do the guys in the Lands End Catalogue underwear ads have with the girls in the Victoria&s Secret Catalogue when they&re stuffed into my lumpy mailbox together? Fantasies make life "interesting".

There are many parts of his body that a guy simply can't control, in times of great stress. Besides the parts that people with dirty-happy minds will immediately identify, there are also eyebrows and fingertips. This PodProgrm gives the science fiction explanation for that phenomenon, and explains what Humphrey Bogart and Tom Cruise seem to have done about it that us ordinary guys can't seem to master. And there's a story from the Quiet Hands cd that goes right along with the flow.

Taking time off from the Super Intercontinental Plastic Potato Pop Gun wars for lots of calls with your reaction to the questions about "stayin' faithful" from both the "Love Comes When You Least Expect It" story cd, and from your own lives. Why do men stray? What's it like being "The Other Woman?" "Is The Other Woman just, cheap?" And my own reaction to the idea that the pilot is just an ordinary dirty dog. Plus "Dick's Details" to take your mind off your mind, so you can nod off to sleep. Did you know that Moses stuttered? Bet nobody laughed.

Two suburban backyard war lords, Randy and I, face off with Intercontinental Ballistic Plastic Potatos, and the powerful Pop Guns to deliver them. Star Wars de-fence is semi successful, and Bill the Mailman loses his cigar. An honest confession as to why these PodPrograms are about such little things. And watch a beautiful woman's make up melt.

A trip back to bell bottoms, beads, and the late, great,1960s. If you can remember where Puff the Magic Dragon lives (by the sea), you'll remember Peter Paul and Mary and the land of Hona Lee. This is about a concert, and a knock on the side of the head lesson about respecting yourself, and whatever you stand for. It helps if, in the process, somebody gives you a rose.

Growing up can hurt. So can telling the truth. That's why some of us do neither. Mostly we are guys. I cannot tell a lie, the kid next door swiped my Bazooka toy, and I want it back. But she's 5 and I'm not going over there and knocking on her door, and saying "I want my toy back". Life is hard when faced with growing up. There's a story in this PodProgram about what I'm (honestly) trying to do about it. Honest !

"America's Most Requested Wedding Song" is Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You." But here's the opening lyric: "If I should stay, I would only be in your way. So I'll go, but I know, I'll think about you every day. And I will always love you." That's America's most requested wedding song. How did that happen? And what has Jess got to do with it? Plus a bedtime story from the "Night Connections" personal audio CD.

Barry Manilow, Pat Cooper and a cast of thousands of my friends star in this episode of Good Night. Well, hundreds of my friends. Ok, all my friends. I call it Mouth vs. Ear I Miss You. Mouth vs. Ear was a quiz show. Sort of. My friends and I were the Mouth, and we always won because we cheated. The listeners were the Ear, and they always lost because we cheated. Pat Cooper was our in studio guest at NBC Radio's New York FM station, WYNY. Barry Manilow was a regular caller. Pat won and Barry lost...because we cheated. I Miss You is a story from the Lovin Touch Personal Audio CD. When you listen, you'll understand why it's appropriate for this podprogram.

Not sure if it's Deer John or Jane Doe, but I have a haunch you'll enjoy the story. Also, the first known "not tonight dear, I have a headache" in recorded history. Plus a conversation with that little voice inside you that keeps calling you names. And then to sleep.

I thought I must have gone blind, or maybe it was that my eye glass prescription suddenly ran out. It was a shocker. Most of us eventually turn to flab. When that happens to our vision, we need glasses. Then it becomes a matter of balancing our need to see, with our need to look good. But nice things happen when you get the balance right, as the man and woman in the Bedtime Story called "Second Chance" will tell you.

35 is the magic age for guys. Until you reach 35 if some muscle hurts, you just shake it, and it's instantly ok. After 35 if some muscle hurts if you shake it, it might fall off. As a PodProgram listener from China found, the same thing happens with relationships. Don't say we didn't warn you. Sometimes magic is your best defense. So we're giving you some magic fingers from the Quiet Hands.

A fortune cookie ignored, is a fortune cookie on a mission of malice. A deadly three tow truck weekend, because I didn't pay attention to the way the fortune cookie crumbled. And a Bedtime Story about a lady on a horse, a windbag husband, and a pilot who might take off with her.

Waitresses are like Mini Moms. Be nice. They bring you your dinner, and even get you desert. And a Lovin Touch story about a minute's truth, and a forever fantasy.

The only pick up line that worked on the picky-est 21st Century woman, an amazing 18th century pick up procedure, and the story of a pick up line that got a work out woman worked up...I think. And then to sleep.

A first hand play by play account of an actual Non Cosmetic Shonz-ectomy this time. The results of life guarding at Coney Island a lot of years ago...too much boardwalk, too much hot dogs...too much sun. Non cosmetic means kinda ugly. Schnoz as in nose, and ectomy as in cut it open, fool around for a while in there, and sew it back up. There's also an audio helping hand in here, so all and all it's a positive pod.

I'd never say all men are always saints. But there is a certain manly grace that deserves more credit than we get. So we don't do everything the way the grown up sex would like us to do them. But we GET THEM DONE. Usually. Even moving. You can call this a moving story if you like. There's a Bedtime Story in it called "For The Long Run."

Doctors and Dentists are supposed to help us live a good life. But that's hard to keep in mind when they have a dead fish, an ominous Bible, and a funeral parlor fragrance in their waiting rooms. But nothing compares to the jolt you can get when you hit the playback button on your answering machine.

Practical jokes are a gift from the Lord. They loosen you up, and make you can relax. Here are a couple of new ones from my buddies Dave and Al. There's also some excellent advice about women from Cary Grant, and a story about a young guy who seems to understand what Mr. Grant is talking about.

Love is never boring when a summer rain is pouring.

Nothing grows where "Puddy" goes, so the Ladies of the Neighborhood aren't going to miss him. But the Prince grows stronger the more they wish he'd go away.

Nobody expected anything special. After all, nothing happened. But all of a sudden two people started living a new life together.

A good back rub means a very good night. Here's a verbal back rub from some calm and quiet hands. It'll turn your nerves to jelly and your muscles into warm spaghetti.

Some women expect too much from us. We're only guys. Give a guy a snarly, high horse power toy, and make way for the appearance of a super beast called LAWN TRACTOR MAN ! But some women have a right to expect a whole lot more than they get from many of us beasts. So here's a mostly true Bedtime Story about Beauty and the Beast.

Magic Lives. That's why there is Santa Claus, Beethoven's Fifth, The Beatles, The Hubble Space Telescope, and Bedtime Stories. Here's a true story, and a Bedtime Story about finding magic again, even though you're all grown up.

When worries won't let you sleep it's giggles to the rescue. Because you can't giggle and worry at the same time. Plus a story about love at first sight, and a second look at a "Tiny Dancer" from the "Night Connections" Personal Audio CD.

ABC - TV recently called Whitney Houston's biggest hit "I Will Always Love You," "America's Number One Wedding Song." That's because nobody listens any more. Just like lots of the people in your life, and mine. Here's what Whitney's song really means.