As I read your column today, I flashed back to 3rd Grade when Raymond Dononnly's bright white shirt got pooped on by a pigeon who landed on the open window over his seat. Deadly accurate@
You got me, Garrison, in the paragraph where you mentioned an unmarried Mennonite as well as taking a teabag along to the cafe and ordering only hot water. Back in the 1970s when I attended a Kansas Mennonite college, we went to Leonida's eatery inside the local train station which was open all night because Amtrak passenger trains passed through at 3 am. This was long before laptops, but I confess taking a teabag and just getting a cup of hot water for our late-nite conversations with friends. If I had just gotten paid for my campus job of cleaning bathrooms, I might splurge and for 25 cents buy a glazed donut to go with my tea.
Just before reading your column this morning, I read today's Daily Good, and was uplifted by Margaret Wheatley's poem "I Want to Be A Ukrainian." https://www.dailygood.org/story/2899/i-want-to-be-a-ukrainian-margaret-wheatley/ My Mennonite ancestors migrated to the plains of Kansas from Ukraine in 1874, so the incomprehensible suffering there weighs heavily these days.
Thank you, dear, for the lovely letter and the poem. I did a show at a Mennonite college once and we sang together during intermission and I shall never forget the beauty of it. You come from good people.
I am in charge of library book club next week and have them reading your book. Because they always read heavy books and I felt we needed something lighter. Wish you were here for me.i know they will like you.i am from Milwaukee and mom from chippewa falls. Anything I should tell them
Did you know that in France they call flatulence a "proot proot"? I don't know any other ones though. I wish YouTube had a way to skip ahead through the refrains on your hymn without missing anything... I made it through more than the first half though.
Oddly enough, it switched halfway through and I started enjoying the refrain of "it is well with my soul" more than the lyrics in between. Thanks for reading these!
Sir, You bring me joy, even in these hard times. Still, Europe will be Europe. We can hope that universal brotherhood and education might effect our worse natures but I have a card in my pocket that tells me that the deck is stacked.
Q do you think you ramble to make us laugh or do we laugh because you ramble?
I have finally liberated myself from English composition learned in college, which all about impersonating intelligence and was essentially wrong. My muse is amusement.
So sorry your show in Newark, Ohio was cancelled last night. I was so looking forward to it. Since I would be missing crowd singing with you I stood on my front porch and belted out "The Star Spangled Banner" in your honor. Possibly my neighbors thought it a one woman protest over the situation in the Ukraine, but they probably became confused when I segued to "I Saw Here Standing There," and other songs you help your audience sing. Be well my friend.
I am sorry too. I haven't cancelled a show in years and years. But I felt too dizzy to get on a plane and my neurologist told me to stay home so that's that. I've got some eyesight problems that affect balance and I need to deal with it but I hope to reschedule Ohio for June so we can all sing Why-o why-o why-o why did I ever leave Ohio? Or, in my case, never arrived.
My sincere condolences! I've got a bit of a dizziness problem too - being close to eighty might have something to do with it!
My memory is also playing tricks on me. You have been close to Ohio before, I'm sure. I think it was Huntington, West Virginia, that hosted A Prairie Home Companion a decade or two ago in an RKO type theater. It was right across the Ohio River from the state of Ohio. I bet probably a third of the audience at least must have been Ohioans!
I think one of the unique virtues of APHC was that you folks "Hit the Road" so often, and so widely! If my finances weren't sticky at the moment, I'd be signing up for the Red Rock Canyon performance with the speed of light! I've been to a "Y'all Come!" get together before, in Minnesota, and I can confirm that they're truly memorable occasions! I highly recommend the upcoming event! Let's see how many states can be represented by our band of GK Friends!
Try the Alexander Technique for your lower back pain, either with a practitioner or on YouTube. Your back will thank you. Good luck! I’ve got your back!😊
Nice "Level Five" M-alliteration regarding the Mournful Memoir from a Mennonite Mom in Menomonie. I signalled your cousin (my med school classmate) regarding this gem.
Re: "Poot" = fart. Does Putin know that his name in French is "Poutine", which in the Great White North is a melange of a) french fries b) melting cheese curds and c) gravy? Yes, yes, I know: impossible to explain to non-Canadians. Blame the Quebecois, I guess. But a guilty pleasure nonetheless.
Thank you for many gifts all these years. Thank you today, for the gift of Peter Ostroushko and his mandolin. Heart of the Heartland, indeed. Again, thank you. Mary McKay
This is a lovely piece. I read it over and over, just to absorb the atmosphere, which enveloped me. Then, I had to look up nonrestrictive clause, cuz I'd forgotten. So, it was remedial English too. Thanks much.
For your lower back issue I strongly urge you to try using The Alexander Technique, either by finding a practitioner in NYC or finding it on YouTube. By the way, I can visualize you writing at the NY Public Library, where for several years I did research in the archives of May Sarton in the collection of British and American Literature. What an awesome temple of quiet in mid Manhattan! Coll Hunley
As a Russian-speaking American, I welcomed the opportunity to become a member of a Ukrainian Pentecostal church when I retired to upstate New York. In the Millennial year, my pastor's wife and one of their sons invited me to visit the Ukraine with them. We flew into Kiev. I got to talk with a prison commandant on my visit to the prison missionary I was sponsoring in Kharkiv. - Despite my grammatical errors, he preferred deciphering me to allowing Vladik to possibly "edit" my words. We found we had a topic in common - former soldiers from the conflicts in Southeast Asia. As a whole, no matter which "foreign" uniform they were wearing, their involvement in Afghanistan or Vietnam led to serious readjustment problems once they returned home.
When I hear these cities mentioned, I recall being there. In Kiev, we drove down avenues with block after block of huge apartment buildings - six stories tall or so, a patio for every residence, and several hundred tenants - each sharing a communal toilet down the end of the hall. I remember horror stories of dwellers being killed by the icicles falling down from the roof onto the entrance way. And I recall the pride Vladik registered as he showed me a "root cellar" he had dug beneath his patio, to use as a cool storage place. He felt lucky to have a ground floor apartment, so he and his wife could have this "extra perk!" Of course, it also meant that there was a lot of pedestrian traffic outside their door, since the main exit to the building was nearby.
And I remember the huge billboard across the square that we passed each time we left the area. The sponsor, I think, was a German beverage company, advertising something like Sprite. A man tipping his head back stuck out his tongue, a green, spiny cactus at least a handspan long, as if to catch the every last drop of the contents of the bottle tipped toward him in his hand. I couldn't imagine such a picture gracing Times Square in New York. GROSS!
I think of the people I met in the Ukraine and wonder how they are getting along today. Those who live in the countryside, like Katya's mother and sister, are probably making do. It seemed to me that they lived as close to the land as those in "A Little House on the Prairie," 150 years ago in America. Katya's mother, when she had finished milking the cow, took glass bottles of milk to the village store and returned with a bag of flour. She fattened a pig to be butchered in the fall. The cured meat would then be stored in the underground hole that was the equivalent of a cold storage unit. The carrots and potatoes from their communal yard would last all winter. Katya's sister roamed the nearby woods and collected edible mushrooms which she then strung up to dry and add flavoring to meals all winter. The berries they picked ended up is jars as syrup.
Folks in cities like Kharkiv also had "rural options." As we drove into town, there were miles and miles of hillsides marked off in small plots - maybe a quarter acre each - and accessed by bus service from the urban areas. Folks with rural backgrounds were eager to grow strawberries, carrots, peas and beans - fresh fruits and vegetables to supplement their diets. With the Russians on the roads to Kiev, it could be that hundreds of families won't be able to take busses out to their plots, and get those seeds planted for this year's table. We hear about the military action on the news. But it seems to me that whole lifestyles will be disrupted by Putin's aggressions!
The song you posted reminded me of the ones the Glen Rock Carolers in PA sing. My husband's parents were both from that town and one of his grandfathers was a saxophone player with them about 100 years ago. We went to the 150th anniversary of the group.
It was my pleasure, all the way.
As I read your column today, I flashed back to 3rd Grade when Raymond Dononnly's bright white shirt got pooped on by a pigeon who landed on the open window over his seat. Deadly accurate@
You got me, Garrison, in the paragraph where you mentioned an unmarried Mennonite as well as taking a teabag along to the cafe and ordering only hot water. Back in the 1970s when I attended a Kansas Mennonite college, we went to Leonida's eatery inside the local train station which was open all night because Amtrak passenger trains passed through at 3 am. This was long before laptops, but I confess taking a teabag and just getting a cup of hot water for our late-nite conversations with friends. If I had just gotten paid for my campus job of cleaning bathrooms, I might splurge and for 25 cents buy a glazed donut to go with my tea.
Just before reading your column this morning, I read today's Daily Good, and was uplifted by Margaret Wheatley's poem "I Want to Be A Ukrainian." https://www.dailygood.org/story/2899/i-want-to-be-a-ukrainian-margaret-wheatley/ My Mennonite ancestors migrated to the plains of Kansas from Ukraine in 1874, so the incomprehensible suffering there weighs heavily these days.
Thank you, dear, for the lovely letter and the poem. I did a show at a Mennonite college once and we sang together during intermission and I shall never forget the beauty of it. You come from good people.
I am in charge of library book club next week and have them reading your book. Because they always read heavy books and I felt we needed something lighter. Wish you were here for me.i know they will like you.i am from Milwaukee and mom from chippewa falls. Anything I should tell them
If they want to talk to the author, we can arrange a ZOOM call. It'd be fun.
can you do on wed at 10 30we need zoom info
Did you know that in France they call flatulence a "proot proot"? I don't know any other ones though. I wish YouTube had a way to skip ahead through the refrains on your hymn without missing anything... I made it through more than the first half though.
Oddly enough, it switched halfway through and I started enjoying the refrain of "it is well with my soul" more than the lyrics in between. Thanks for reading these!
Oh, give a little. Just let up on your unbelief and float with the current.
What an odd response! I’d say the refrain i ended up listening to indicated i suffered from an excess of the stuff. : )
Chinese is "Pi" (pēē), or "Fangpi". Dialects vary. Lao Fangpi is "old fart", "farts all the time" or something similar. 老屁
Sir, You bring me joy, even in these hard times. Still, Europe will be Europe. We can hope that universal brotherhood and education might effect our worse natures but I have a card in my pocket that tells me that the deck is stacked.
Q do you think you ramble to make us laugh or do we laugh because you ramble?
Rock On..SLManning
I have finally liberated myself from English composition learned in college, which all about impersonating intelligence and was essentially wrong. My muse is amusement.
So sorry your show in Newark, Ohio was cancelled last night. I was so looking forward to it. Since I would be missing crowd singing with you I stood on my front porch and belted out "The Star Spangled Banner" in your honor. Possibly my neighbors thought it a one woman protest over the situation in the Ukraine, but they probably became confused when I segued to "I Saw Here Standing There," and other songs you help your audience sing. Be well my friend.
I am sorry too. I haven't cancelled a show in years and years. But I felt too dizzy to get on a plane and my neurologist told me to stay home so that's that. I've got some eyesight problems that affect balance and I need to deal with it but I hope to reschedule Ohio for June so we can all sing Why-o why-o why-o why did I ever leave Ohio? Or, in my case, never arrived.
My sincere condolences! I've got a bit of a dizziness problem too - being close to eighty might have something to do with it!
My memory is also playing tricks on me. You have been close to Ohio before, I'm sure. I think it was Huntington, West Virginia, that hosted A Prairie Home Companion a decade or two ago in an RKO type theater. It was right across the Ohio River from the state of Ohio. I bet probably a third of the audience at least must have been Ohioans!
I think one of the unique virtues of APHC was that you folks "Hit the Road" so often, and so widely! If my finances weren't sticky at the moment, I'd be signing up for the Red Rock Canyon performance with the speed of light! I've been to a "Y'all Come!" get together before, in Minnesota, and I can confirm that they're truly memorable occasions! I highly recommend the upcoming event! Let's see how many states can be represented by our band of GK Friends!
Try the Alexander Technique for your lower back pain, either with a practitioner or on YouTube. Your back will thank you. Good luck! I’ve got your back!😊
Nice "Level Five" M-alliteration regarding the Mournful Memoir from a Mennonite Mom in Menomonie. I signalled your cousin (my med school classmate) regarding this gem.
Garrison, that you for playing Peter's great piece! I got to know him some and considered him a friend. A wonderful mandolin player.
Re: "Poot" = fart. Does Putin know that his name in French is "Poutine", which in the Great White North is a melange of a) french fries b) melting cheese curds and c) gravy? Yes, yes, I know: impossible to explain to non-Canadians. Blame the Quebecois, I guess. But a guilty pleasure nonetheless.
It's (Poutine) got a cult following in Detroit.
Thank you for many gifts all these years. Thank you today, for the gift of Peter Ostroushko and his mandolin. Heart of the Heartland, indeed. Again, thank you. Mary McKay
This is a lovely piece. I read it over and over, just to absorb the atmosphere, which enveloped me. Then, I had to look up nonrestrictive clause, cuz I'd forgotten. So, it was remedial English too. Thanks much.
For your lower back issue I strongly urge you to try using The Alexander Technique, either by finding a practitioner in NYC or finding it on YouTube. By the way, I can visualize you writing at the NY Public Library, where for several years I did research in the archives of May Sarton in the collection of British and American Literature. What an awesome temple of quiet in mid Manhattan! Coll Hunley
As a Russian-speaking American, I welcomed the opportunity to become a member of a Ukrainian Pentecostal church when I retired to upstate New York. In the Millennial year, my pastor's wife and one of their sons invited me to visit the Ukraine with them. We flew into Kiev. I got to talk with a prison commandant on my visit to the prison missionary I was sponsoring in Kharkiv. - Despite my grammatical errors, he preferred deciphering me to allowing Vladik to possibly "edit" my words. We found we had a topic in common - former soldiers from the conflicts in Southeast Asia. As a whole, no matter which "foreign" uniform they were wearing, their involvement in Afghanistan or Vietnam led to serious readjustment problems once they returned home.
When I hear these cities mentioned, I recall being there. In Kiev, we drove down avenues with block after block of huge apartment buildings - six stories tall or so, a patio for every residence, and several hundred tenants - each sharing a communal toilet down the end of the hall. I remember horror stories of dwellers being killed by the icicles falling down from the roof onto the entrance way. And I recall the pride Vladik registered as he showed me a "root cellar" he had dug beneath his patio, to use as a cool storage place. He felt lucky to have a ground floor apartment, so he and his wife could have this "extra perk!" Of course, it also meant that there was a lot of pedestrian traffic outside their door, since the main exit to the building was nearby.
And I remember the huge billboard across the square that we passed each time we left the area. The sponsor, I think, was a German beverage company, advertising something like Sprite. A man tipping his head back stuck out his tongue, a green, spiny cactus at least a handspan long, as if to catch the every last drop of the contents of the bottle tipped toward him in his hand. I couldn't imagine such a picture gracing Times Square in New York. GROSS!
I think of the people I met in the Ukraine and wonder how they are getting along today. Those who live in the countryside, like Katya's mother and sister, are probably making do. It seemed to me that they lived as close to the land as those in "A Little House on the Prairie," 150 years ago in America. Katya's mother, when she had finished milking the cow, took glass bottles of milk to the village store and returned with a bag of flour. She fattened a pig to be butchered in the fall. The cured meat would then be stored in the underground hole that was the equivalent of a cold storage unit. The carrots and potatoes from their communal yard would last all winter. Katya's sister roamed the nearby woods and collected edible mushrooms which she then strung up to dry and add flavoring to meals all winter. The berries they picked ended up is jars as syrup.
Folks in cities like Kharkiv also had "rural options." As we drove into town, there were miles and miles of hillsides marked off in small plots - maybe a quarter acre each - and accessed by bus service from the urban areas. Folks with rural backgrounds were eager to grow strawberries, carrots, peas and beans - fresh fruits and vegetables to supplement their diets. With the Russians on the roads to Kiev, it could be that hundreds of families won't be able to take busses out to their plots, and get those seeds planted for this year's table. We hear about the military action on the news. But it seems to me that whole lifestyles will be disrupted by Putin's aggressions!
The song you posted reminded me of the ones the Glen Rock Carolers in PA sing. My husband's parents were both from that town and one of his grandfathers was a saxophone player with them about 100 years ago. We went to the 150th anniversary of the group.
https://carolersofglenrock.weebly.com/index.html
http://162.214.200.122/~northbelltower/c/