Good Night

A terrorist cold bug has seized me! So I am fleeing to Florida with my Lady Wonder Wench, to boil it out of my bod. This is not the first terrorist creature that has crept into our lives. Another beast challenged my monster defying abilities a while ago. In case you have forgotton...here is the legend... re-told.

I'm sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather pappa chair in my living room, trying to figure out how to do a better job of explaining last week's Do You Do You podcast. I don't think I made it clear enough. And it's important to me that I make it clear enough that you really understand. Because I am a big fan of spousal spice. I guess you could call me a spousal Spice Guy. Spousal as in my Lady Wonder Wench. And Spice as in hot. Some things are so clear, they don't need an explanation. There were orange traffic cones on Rt. 52 today, with a totally un-necessary sign that said, "Construction next 2 miles." Right off hand, the only other explanation for orange traffic cones on the road I could come up with would be, "Psychedelic witches embedded in macadam next two miles." There are some signs...that should be just as clear...all around us...But it looks like we're not seeing them. And that's what makes me think you might want to remember to Do You. I call them signs of the swift shrinkage of sp

I'm sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather pappa chair in my living room. I know where I am, I know who I am, and I know why I'm here. I'm not confused. And it's obvious that lots of people are. That's because they don't follow Big Louie's best advice of all time: "Do you." "Do you", means think for yourself, and never let anybody else eat your hunch. "Do you". Just two words. But they clear up all kinds of confusion, and sometimes they even lower your blood pressure to within human tolerances.

I am sitting here in utter confusion. Actually, I'm sitting here in my big, comfortable, black leather pappa chair in my living room...but I can't figure this out. I call this podcast Goodnight, because I thought some folks might like a few comfortable stories and a little fun just before they go to sleep. Confusion not only reigns, it pours. Because I just looked at the computer counter for this Goodnight podcast, and what time do you think most people listen to this podcast? Right. 8 AM. How did you figure that out? Maybe you're one of the people who does that. Is it because from the perspective of midnight, 8AM is very late... and you just like to stay up very, very late?

You've got to work with what you've got. So when you hear my Lady Wonder Wench's new TV commercial, remember that's only her, "What-is-the-matter-with-you" voice when she's saying, "Is there anybody there ?" That one voice does not describe what type of woman she is. She is not a type. She is a person. She has lots of other voices. Her "mommy" voice, her "Honey do" voice, her "Dealing with the telemarketer" voice. And of course her "I'm your girlfriend voice." BUT...unfortunately for you, although I am not the jealous husband, killer, stomp on you type...because I am also a person...not a type...but sorry folks...you're going to have to work with what you've got. And you are not going to hear her "I am your girlfriend" voice. Because, that's what I've got to work with.

Big Louie, his own bad self, The Chief Mustard Cutter of the Louie-Louie Generation, always says, "You're never too old to make out as long as you have any moving parts left." The Pimple People don't understand that. They would pop their piercings if they had any idea how nicely Louie-Louie Generation Lads and Ladies can still move our remaining movable parts. They also don't understand aural sex. Words.Warm, wonderful, words.

So what do you think. Should I go boldly bald like an eagle, or just get another $20 haircut? If I went shiny top, I could draw a little smiley face on the back of my head, and every time I tipped my hat, people would laugh behind my back. And think of the expanded zone for backrubs. Let me know what you think.

Winter is God's way of saying, "Up yours." The sun didn't come out all day today. Can't blame it. It was way too cold. I walked outside to get the mail a little while ago, with my cup in my hand, and by the time I got back inside, I was enjoying a chunk of coffee. You could freeze an egg on the sidewalk. That might be why hens were seen laying eggs from a standing position today. People with high fevers were renting themselves out as car seat warmers. Instead of saying "Have a nice day," courteous supermarket checkouts were saying, "I hope you go to hell." Flashers were just describing themselves. Priests all over the arch diocese couldn't get their cars started, because darn and drat weren't powerful enough encouragement words. A little while ago, while I was putting a log on the fire, I noticed a little tiny frozen brown spot. The fire hit it just now and it went pop...and for just a moment, it stank something awful. It was probably a little tiny frozen squirrel fart. I'm sorry...flatulence. Can't be too

Toys are more important than you think. They help protect us from the big, bad, boredom bully. A toy is a just for having fun. Having fun is good. And people who have fun, are usually fun to be around. They are never boring, because they never get bored. That's important. Boredom is a big bully. It beats people up more than YOU can possibly imagine... because the kind of people who listen to this podcast...may have lots of problems...but boredom...probably isn't one of them. Now there is a clear distinction between a tool and a toy. A tool is something you need. A toy is something you want, so you pretend it's a tool to give you an excuse to get it. A toy is not something you're going to just show off...like a 20 pound gold plated cufflink. That kind of thing is not a toy. I'd call it more of an ego expander.

When Lady Wonder Wench says, "I'm sorry," she means "You're going to be sorry." That's bad enough. When she says, "How much do you love me," I know that means she did something that I'm not going to like. I remember when she said, "This kitchen floor is hard to clean," I realized she meant she wanted a new house. I had a woman once say to me, "Can't we just be friends?" And I knew she meant there was no way she was going to let any part of my body touch any part of her body again. All those things, I could understand, and deal with in my own Louie-Louie Gentlemanly way. But you guys know...when you ask a woman, "What's wrong," and she says..."Nothing"...something is really wrong.

My life has always had an odd shape...like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle. It sometimes takes sudden zig-zag turns when I least expect it. I like it that way. I'm never bored. And every time my life zigs, I can depend that my Lady Wonder Wench will be "The One" to help me make it through the next zag. I'm not a religious guy. But sometimes, when I think about that, I have to take a quick deep breath, and when I exhale, something comes out that sounds a lot like a very quiet..."Thank You." This podcast has kind of an odd shape too. It's mostly for fun, and to enjoy a conversation with some good people...you few, you mighty, you proud, podcast, participants. It's like I am the mouth, and you are the ear. But sometimes that gets turned around. Sometimes, like tonight, it's you who bring up some industrial strength questions. Like...what happens when you think you've found, "The One," and she or he...walks out of your life. Can you ever get over that? And maybe most important, will you ever be able to trust enough...

Like most Louie-Louie Generation guys, I am somewhat maturity challenged. And like most Louie-Louie Ladies, my Lady Wonder Wench doesn't understand how a grown man can fall on his side on the floor, and kick his legs with milk spurting out of his nose when he hears a wonderful joke. That's when she gives me the Louie-Louie Lady Cower-Power look. This podcast is about developing a Louie-Louie Lad Look, that will even the score.

Happy 2011 A new page. A new calendar. Another time to tackle, "Firsts." How many "Firsts" do you remember ? Your first job? Your first kiss? There are a bunch of firsts that I remember in this podcast. And there's one very special gift to start your new year. If you've been listening to the Good Night podcasts for a while, you'll realize how special that gift is. Happy New Year.

'Twas The Flight Before Christmas ...and all through our house...my Lady Wonder Wench and I are getting ready to meet the Christmas Spirit. Not Santa Claus. The Christmas Spirit. We do this every year. We bundle up, go down to the little airport where we keep our small plane, strap in, start the engine, and climb up into the cold, black, just before Christmas midnight. And so far...every year...well...give the podcast a listen. And...Merry Christmas.

One of the Summer Family's favorite Christmas treasures is in this podcast. It gets un-packed each year, along with the long legged little Santa that looks like Lady Wonder Wench's father used to look that has hung on our tree for decades. It's as important a part of our Christmas memories as the delicate, hand made, glass Christmas ball that first hung on my Grandfather's tree in Germany a couple of generations ago...and the tree top star I cut from cardboard and covered with tinfoil on the first Christmas Lady Wonder Wench and I had together. We couldn't afford to buy one in the store that year. It's a gift our son David gave to our family, and with his permission I'm passing it along to you. David is a senior computer programmer. He gets this podcast to you each week. But he's also a very gifted, professional musician. He got that talent from his Grandfather. His present is one you will want to keep...so you can open it again next year, and for many years to come. Merry Christmas.

It's time for Jingle Bells, Louie-Louie style. Louie-Louie Generation lads and ladies have been around long enough to have more than a few good Christmas/Hannakah/Solstice/Kwanza stories to tell. So let's tell them to each other. You can send yours to Dick@dicksummer.com, or just go to the blog at the www.dicksummer.com website and add it to the comments on the current blog. Looking for the laughs, the tears, the presents, the surprises...the memories...that make this time of the year...and this time of our lives...so special.

I've just noticed that civilization as we know it is tottering at a tipping point. Teetering...even. And it's my fault. The ancient Mayan 2012 end of the world prophesy is nothing compared to the impact on our weakened society of what I must call, the dreaded "D Word!" I must be careful just saying that out loud, because "Forces For Good In The Community" are always lurking... constantly alert to this incredible opportunity that the use of this new, and dreaded "D Word" gives them to be shocked, dismayed, and offended. We have, in the long history of mankind, faced similar threats to our way of life when we have discovered...hidden...craftily in our midst...the "B Word," the "N Word," The "H Word," and the "F Word." Words for which, if you say them, those Forces For Good In The Community will righteously punish you by getting you fired from your broadcasting job, banishing you to live in Odessa, Texas, and/or sticking your wet tongue in a hot socket. (Actually sticking your wet tongue in a hot socket might

If you and I take a moment out from complaining about everything, we'll come up with lots of big things to be thankful for...like the freedom to complain...even about the government...out loud...for example. But how about little thankful things? Like the ice cream sandwich with the little flakes of dark chocolate I had yesterday, or walking on the beach with somebody special...on Christmas day...or sharing a bag of hot popcorn with that same somebody, sitting next to you waiting for a movie to begin...or just tossing a Frizzzzzz- beeeee. But we're talkin turkey today. Turkeys are dumb. They walk right over to you and say, "gobble, gobble." Not smart. That may be where we got the idea. Thanksgiving is also the anniversary of the "Men Are Saints" appeal. It's all here in this podcast.

Now, I realize that what I am about to say will put me high up on your list of surly, soulless, scoundrels. But I don't want a dog in my life right now. I also realize that it is statements like that which cause a great many, mostly unnecessarily fatal fights between men and women. And I understand that one of the, things my Lady Wonder Wench is thinking now is, "If I throw a stick will he run after it...and just keep running ?" My buddy Al and his wife have a dog they named Ike. They treat Ike like their child. My feeling is that I have had enough children. And besides, I fear that the mixing of human and dog DNA could well result in the creation of an animal, which, instead of barking, would look up at you and say, "Let my people go." I can't help it. Right now, I want to be the only animal in Lady Wonder Wench's life. I know how to deal with this. A Gold fish.

"Don't look back, they might be gaining on you." That's a quote from baseball's magnificent "Satchel" Paige. But I can't help looking back...in horror...at this past election's political television advertising. What kind of people do these pathetic politicians think we are? No matter what your political views might be, if you believed half of what the politician's commercials said about their opponents, you would want to pack your bags and sneak out of the country under cover of darkness to someplace safe, if those other guys won.