A co-worker recently approached me with what, at the time, seemed like a pressing and urgent question: how did the Fonz, a.k.a. Arthur Fonzerelli from the TV phenomeonon Happy Days, get around in the wintertime? Did he bum rides off his friends? He can't really have driven that motorcycle around all the time, could he?

Oh, but he could. My response was simple: he absolutely could drive his motorcycle in the cold, or the rain, or any other horrific weather condition. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me to see the Fonz tooling off to Al's on his bike in the midst of a house-gutting hurricane. And why would such a feat be possible? Because the Fonz is cool.

Yet what do we really understand about "cool," other than the fact that Fonzie had it and Richie desperately wanted it so bad he could taste it? Precious little, I'm afraid. To me, that represents a sad deficiency in the realm of popular culture studies. Shockingly, I have found not one paper on the Fonz or "cool" in all my searches through the world's library archives. That's truly pathetic.

In an effort to correct that egregious oversight, allow me to outline briefly a controversial hypothesis that I hope will trigger a further debate and eventually lead to a better understanding of what "cool" actually means, for both the Fonz and for all of humanity.

Fact: the Fonz can ride his motorcycle in any weather. Does this mean that the inexplicable scientific force known as "cool" is actually more powerful than Mother Nature herself? It sure is. For my money, the only force stronger than Fonz's "cool" is prejudice, as evidenced by the incident where the African-American kid wanted to attend Richie's luau and everyone in town decided to boycot the party because he was going to be there, thus rendering Fonzie's powers of party persuasion utterly useless.

But other than the forces of discrimination that have built up in our society for hundreds of years, NOTHING is stronger than "cool." Love? No way. Nausea? As if. Orgasm? Yeah, right.

It remains one of the most compelling and inexplicable forces in the history of entertainment: "cool." Who has it? Who doesn't? And most of all, how do you get it?

We can start by effortlessly defining the first and only progenitor of TV cool. Clearly, only Arthur Fonzerelli ever truly mastered this mystery force. All other supposed incarnations of "cool" are simply pale imitations of the real thing, which was captured to perfection by that leather jacket, those tighter-than-Monica-Lewinsky's-lips blue jeans--and yes, even in that goofy scarf the Fonz used to wear when it got really cold. The Fonz will be forever praised, and in some countries actually worshipped, for defining the concept of "cool" and promoting it around the world. (The same cannot be said of Henry Winkler, the actor who portrayed the Fonz. But the ironies and contradictions implicit in an actor who defines the anti-cool and yet portrays the embodiment of "cool" are best left for other scholars to discuss.)

The "cool" is Fonzie's gift, and at times his curse. Some are born with brilliance of mind; others are mighty in a physical sense. The Fonz was born cool.

This all begs the question: what made Fonzie so cool? Based on all available evidence and a systematic analysis of the entire 113-episode run of Happy Days, I am satisfied with only one conclusion: he had a massive penis.

No, you didn't misread my last sentence. Though I have no actual evidence to back up my claim--unlike Mrs. Cunningham, I've never seen Fonzie naked--I maintain that only a big dick could have given the Fonz the kind of personality power and confidence to project such intense coolness. Verily, when TV historians comb back over the dustbins of situation comedy to determine which half-hour small-screen superstar had the largest unit, a quick and uniform consensus will rise. Even as we sit in the throes of television's Leaden Age, it's clear that of all the Jack Trippers, the Ricky Nelsons and the Danny Tanners of the last fifty years, only one man could claim to have a huge dick and produce a comparable penis to back it up: Arthur Fonzerelli.

(Does this mean that Henry Winkler is also well-hung? Perhaps. Does this mean that he is also cool? Absolutely not. Unfortunately, the correlation between an actor's penis size and the penis size of his character is another field of study entirely, and cannot be adequately addressed--or "undressed," as the case may be--in this space provided. I leave this question for future scholars to confront.)

On the show Happy Days, Fonzie bridged a span of decades--the show took place in the fifties, but aired in the late seventies and early eighties--and redefined the concept of "cool" for generations of Americans and lovers of television worldwide. Could he possibly have been so very, very cool and have a tiny prick? Hardly. And the available circumstantial evidence would seem to support my claim. After all, which member of the Happy Days cast regularly attracted the highest quantity and quality of female flesh? The Fonz. Even Potsie, who was the lead singer in a ROCK BAND, couldn't score the babes like Fonzie.

The cataclysmic force of Fonzie's primal attractiveness to the opposite sex was so vast that even Marion Cunningham, quiet housewife and faithful partner to Howard Cunningham, couldn't resist him. Thinly-veiled references to their forbidden lust are present in just about every episode of Happy Days. (For a more thorough examination of the Fonzie/Mrs. C tryst, consult "The Truth About Fonzie and Mrs. C," from the premiere issue of the zine TV Grind and reprinted in the magnificent collection The Book of Zines, edited by Chip Rowe and published by Henry Holt and Company. As it puts all the pieces together, it will open your eyes like they've never been opened before.)

Fonzie dripped with women, because he was "cool." And he was "cool" because he had a big dick. Does this mean that any male with a formidable package has some hope of attaining the Platonian heights of that mystical aura known as "cool"? Possibly. One could do far worse than to strive in one's life to be as "cool" as Fonzie. Ultimately, it is my sincere wish that these loosely organized ramblings inspire each and every one of my readers to embark on a self-exploration in an effort to understand what the Fonz and "cool" mean to each of us, and perhaps to even find that sliver of "cool" that rests in every single soul.

Yet though we may try, none of us can ever reach his apex of "cool," despite penis sizes that may put the Fonz to shame. For the Fonz is to cool what Elvis Presley was to rock 'n' roll and what John Holmes was to porno: the first, the biggest and the all-time best. After all, if the guy has the balls to drive a motorcycle in subzero weather, he's got to have plenty to offer downstairs.