I have to admit that there's a certain solace in grumpiness and I think that it's in a father's Contract of Employment that he inflict it on his children who will roll their eyes and ignore it.
It's wonderful to read this happy note that you've shared with us. I agree with you when you express your feelings. I took my wife out to the shop this morning (we're newly retired, we can do it) and I've just returned with her from an afternoon stroll round the local streets. I've read, I've written short comments, I'm going to finish the chapter of the book I'm re-reading, catch up with my Bible reading and write a short commentary on Isaiah. I have a wonderful wife who I married just over thirty years ago, two children who I love and my daughter's boyfriend who I look on as almost another son. I eat well, I sleep well, I'm recovering from a time in hospital. I'm looking forward to a family holiday in Northern Ireland and a couple of nights ago I spoke to a friend who I hadn't spoken to for 25 years.
Though I don't deserve it, life is good and I thank God for it. The atheist can thank whatever he thinks most precious.
I, too, was befriended by Roger Angell, from afar--thirty-some years ago he published one of my stories and changed my life. You, too, befriended me from afar--by reading a birthday wish for my first-born [now 48], by the shape of your storytelling, the precise wisdom of a man's glee at having made a direct hit on a squirrel's nether regions with hot sauce fired from a squirt gun a moment later realizing that his young daughter, a squirrel lover, was watching from the other window. And so many other fine things, including the locution, from today's writing: "an easygoing grumpiness . . . suitable for all occasions" . . . oh and for the riff on how one responds to "How are you?" In my version: I was taken to task for answering, "Fair to middlin'"--not sufficiently chipper according to the Californian who asked the question. I said, "Actually, I'm from New England. Fair to middlin' is pretty darn good, expressing an openness to upward movement while avoiding excessive chipperness and not unware of the other shoe's quantum state, dropping and not-dropping. Be well, old grump.
Good job last night at Strathmore in Bethesda. The Grateful Dead piece was terrific and the audience did sound a bit like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing to “your mom” in that great acoustic space. Hearing your harmonized rendition of the John Prine song led me to wonder how you and Iris DeMent might sound together with, “Leaning On The Everlasting Arms”? Gives me chills just thinking about her singing it as the final credits rolled in, “True Grit”!
What man’s disposition and life couldn’t be improved or accomplished by a “good meal and a fine wife"? A meal with substances and good taste and a wife of beauty and kindness. Most men could conquer the world if they were supplied with those two things.
See how lucky you are. See how much you accomplished.
I know you compare yourself to Mark Twain and he had much more notoriety than you but he only lived until he was seventy-four years old and you beat him there. You're funnier too.
Until 7 years ago, I had those blessings from my wife of 55-1/2 years, now passed. Yes, she helped conquer our world and I'm hanging on with memories of her.
I am sorry for your loss, Bob. She was your angel and her spirit made your world. I am sure her spirit still lives through you. The challenges and triumphs of this world still need to be faced and her spirit will be standing next to you because that’s what you meant to her.
You are INDEED a lucky man! As we discussed a few days ago, via Comments, it turns out there are nine, count 'em, nine!, Trader Joe's in the New York Borough alone....East 59th, 72nd /Broadway, 670 Columbus Ave, etc. Maybe one along your sauntering routes??
"Donate money to organizations that relieve suffering." Presumably so that they can take relief to a war zone and then have staffers killed by a treacherous army.
I follow your peregrinations around - and on - the West Side, as we lived happily on West End Avenue and 86th Street when we were first married. Life was full and there was much to enjoy. I'm (even) older than you are and now live in a little village outside Oxford (England). And I agree with you: Count your blessings, kids. It could be a helluva lot worse.
I just became a paid subscriber, Mr. Keillor, and feel as if in some small way that I've just done something to make this old world a better place! So, hell yeah, I'm happy! I thought you were dead and come to find out you're NOT. Hooray for both of us! I also just ordered a copy of "Brisk Verse" for my "Happy Father's Day!" gift from our kids. Boy, won't they be surprised! Indeed, I AM a lucky man, and I'll admit my happiness! WHY NOT?
Just last week, while on my morning walk, I crested a hill where I was met by a neighbor, a man a few years older than I (I'm 80). He was gazing out over Puget Sound to the west and the Olympic Mountains that were coated in snow and lit by the morning sun. He said as I approached, "this is what heaven must look like." I didn't disagree. Life is good.
Feeding your great nephew at 8 months reminds me of feeding our son Adopted at 6 weeks), a real chow hound, at about that age, whimpering the whole time until we stated to shovel in the cereal and him going "mmm, mmm". We have picture of me feeding him, me ready to go to work in white shirt and tie, and him hanging on to my tie because I wasn't shoveling it in fast enough.
On this gloomy Saturday morning in NH, your verse brought joy and “sunshine”. Thank you. We octogenarians often need reminding that indeed we are lucky.
Lovely cheerfulness, especially close to Passover.
Thanks GK
Amen! Attitude of gratitude! Every day!
I have to admit that there's a certain solace in grumpiness and I think that it's in a father's Contract of Employment that he inflict it on his children who will roll their eyes and ignore it.
It's wonderful to read this happy note that you've shared with us. I agree with you when you express your feelings. I took my wife out to the shop this morning (we're newly retired, we can do it) and I've just returned with her from an afternoon stroll round the local streets. I've read, I've written short comments, I'm going to finish the chapter of the book I'm re-reading, catch up with my Bible reading and write a short commentary on Isaiah. I have a wonderful wife who I married just over thirty years ago, two children who I love and my daughter's boyfriend who I look on as almost another son. I eat well, I sleep well, I'm recovering from a time in hospital. I'm looking forward to a family holiday in Northern Ireland and a couple of nights ago I spoke to a friend who I hadn't spoken to for 25 years.
Though I don't deserve it, life is good and I thank God for it. The atheist can thank whatever he thinks most precious.
Gratitude is a very underrated part of life.
💌
I, too, was befriended by Roger Angell, from afar--thirty-some years ago he published one of my stories and changed my life. You, too, befriended me from afar--by reading a birthday wish for my first-born [now 48], by the shape of your storytelling, the precise wisdom of a man's glee at having made a direct hit on a squirrel's nether regions with hot sauce fired from a squirt gun a moment later realizing that his young daughter, a squirrel lover, was watching from the other window. And so many other fine things, including the locution, from today's writing: "an easygoing grumpiness . . . suitable for all occasions" . . . oh and for the riff on how one responds to "How are you?" In my version: I was taken to task for answering, "Fair to middlin'"--not sufficiently chipper according to the Californian who asked the question. I said, "Actually, I'm from New England. Fair to middlin' is pretty darn good, expressing an openness to upward movement while avoiding excessive chipperness and not unware of the other shoe's quantum state, dropping and not-dropping. Be well, old grump.
In Maine, the usual response is "still vertical" or some such.
“…to lift my voice with the two women’s in trio to an audience in Vermont…”
In Vermont!? Where/when was this?
(And more importantly, how did I miss it?)
Actually, it's tomorrow, Saturday the 20th, Burlington, the Flynn Theater.
Good job last night at Strathmore in Bethesda. The Grateful Dead piece was terrific and the audience did sound a bit like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing to “your mom” in that great acoustic space. Hearing your harmonized rendition of the John Prine song led me to wonder how you and Iris DeMent might sound together with, “Leaning On The Everlasting Arms”? Gives me chills just thinking about her singing it as the final credits rolled in, “True Grit”!
Whenever Iris wants to do it, I'll be there.
Reminds me of when you signed a book for me, early 90’s , I was living in Bay Ridge. Thank you.
What man’s disposition and life couldn’t be improved or accomplished by a “good meal and a fine wife"? A meal with substances and good taste and a wife of beauty and kindness. Most men could conquer the world if they were supplied with those two things.
See how lucky you are. See how much you accomplished.
I know you compare yourself to Mark Twain and he had much more notoriety than you but he only lived until he was seventy-four years old and you beat him there. You're funnier too.
Until 7 years ago, I had those blessings from my wife of 55-1/2 years, now passed. Yes, she helped conquer our world and I'm hanging on with memories of her.
I am sorry for your loss, Bob. She was your angel and her spirit made your world. I am sure her spirit still lives through you. The challenges and triumphs of this world still need to be faced and her spirit will be standing next to you because that’s what you meant to her.
I am the luckiest man alive.
I want to say "blessed" but it sounds preachy.
Glad to read that despite all my blessing, there are plenty more for others.
Hi Garrison,
You are INDEED a lucky man! As we discussed a few days ago, via Comments, it turns out there are nine, count 'em, nine!, Trader Joe's in the New York Borough alone....East 59th, 72nd /Broadway, 670 Columbus Ave, etc. Maybe one along your sauntering routes??
Here is the link to their directory: https://locations.traderjoes.com/ny/new-york/
Your Pal in Cheaper Cereals, Roger Krenkler - L.A.
"Donate money to organizations that relieve suffering." Presumably so that they can take relief to a war zone and then have staffers killed by a treacherous army.
No place here for this downer.
I follow your peregrinations around - and on - the West Side, as we lived happily on West End Avenue and 86th Street when we were first married. Life was full and there was much to enjoy. I'm (even) older than you are and now live in a little village outside Oxford (England). And I agree with you: Count your blessings, kids. It could be a helluva lot worse.
I just became a paid subscriber, Mr. Keillor, and feel as if in some small way that I've just done something to make this old world a better place! So, hell yeah, I'm happy! I thought you were dead and come to find out you're NOT. Hooray for both of us! I also just ordered a copy of "Brisk Verse" for my "Happy Father's Day!" gift from our kids. Boy, won't they be surprised! Indeed, I AM a lucky man, and I'll admit my happiness! WHY NOT?
Just last week, while on my morning walk, I crested a hill where I was met by a neighbor, a man a few years older than I (I'm 80). He was gazing out over Puget Sound to the west and the Olympic Mountains that were coated in snow and lit by the morning sun. He said as I approached, "this is what heaven must look like." I didn't disagree. Life is good.
Feeding your great nephew at 8 months reminds me of feeding our son Adopted at 6 weeks), a real chow hound, at about that age, whimpering the whole time until we stated to shovel in the cereal and him going "mmm, mmm". We have picture of me feeding him, me ready to go to work in white shirt and tie, and him hanging on to my tie because I wasn't shoveling it in fast enough.
On this gloomy Saturday morning in NH, your verse brought joy and “sunshine”. Thank you. We octogenarians often need reminding that indeed we are lucky.