Good Night

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.