Reading and listening to Garrison Keillor is continuing proof that, beneath the grimy accretions of bigotry and violence, the America I love and respect still exists.
Congratulations on keeping up some of your PHC appearances, and those of us in the hinterlands hope you’ll decide to live stream these two shows as you did in Nashville. Maybe you’ll adopt a plan to stream once the live venues have sold out. Sort of like the NFL once did.
I’ve been under the impression that you left Minnesota for New York some while ago. Maybe it’s taken awhile for your heart to make a full transition.
Happy trails, Garrison! Our roots in Michigan have gone so deep it's a wonder we can walk. I generally don't trust the footloose, so I'll keep an eye on you.
I saw that your show is called American Revival and I thought, "Finally! Garrison is embracing his calling as a pastor."
Counting chapel at school, I spent my childhood attending church 8 times a week (5X chapel, Wednesday evening prayer meeting, and 2X on Sunday). That's unhealthy and it can warp a person and it did warp many of the children who experienced it. They are now adults, but they live their lives believing that they are among a select few living at the center of a great cosmic drama between absolute good and absolute evil. The universe has endorsed their personal obsessions and fetishes.
Fortunately, I lucked into an antidote and that was Prairie Home Companion which had great special music and congregational singing, and the highlight was a homily in the form of a story which usually advised the parishioners to be generous toward other people and appreciate their good intentions. Don't take yourself so seriously and be cheerful and useful. PHC was the only church that ever made me want to be and feel like I could be a better person.
So, thank you Pastor Keillor. You've done good work.
I don't think Bob ever wrote a song about hating leaving home but he wrote longingly for his friends from the past in Bob Dylan's Dream (on Freewheelin' 1963) :
While riding on a train goin' west
I fell asleep for to take my rest
I dreamed a dream that made me sad
Concerning myself and the first few friends I had
With half-damp eyes, I stared to the room
Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon
Where we together weathered many a storm
Laughin' and singin' till the early hours of the morn
By the old wooden stove our hats was hung
Our words was told, our songs was sung
Where we longed for nothin' and were satisfied
Jokin' and talkin' about the world outside
With hungry hearts through the heat and cold
We never much thought we could get very old
We thought we could sit forever in fun
And our chances really was a million to one
As easy, it was to tell black from white
It was all that easy to tell wrong from right
And our choices there was few
So the thought never hit
At the one road we travelled, we ever shatter or split
How many a year has passed and gone?
Many a gamble has been lost and won
And many a road taken by many a first friend
And each one I've never seen again
I wish, I wish, I wish in vain
That we could sit simply in that room again
Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat
I'd give it all gladly if our lives could be like that
Clearly it's the influence of women that makes you willing to leave Minnesota, first to Denmark and now to New York on a permanent basis. The core of authenticity in your work has always been the evocation of the human, funny, foolish, and wise soul of the midwest, "out on the edge of the prairie." It will be much more difficult to do that as an expat New Yorker. But you have made a point of honor of shutting down your awareness of the larger world in favor of appreciating your own small quotidian experience. It's something that most people do around your age (I am your senior by several years). I understand wanting to retire; did it myself a few months ago. But somebody else's myopic retirement is not something that's likely to get nearly as much of my attention as your brilliant insights of old used to do.
Thanks for today’s post. I left MN in late 70’s and and I do make annual visits to family lake cabin with my grandson for whom I am legal guardian. (Long story there. )
I now live in Reno. NV and have grown to love the West though fears of water sources drying up are very real.
Question: do you EVER do shows in the West?
Thanks for uplifting so many of my days. Loved Boomtown. Now passing it on to all I know.
Ramsey is the smallest. Never realized that, it's reeealy small, in comparison. I've been in the bay area since 92 if you include 1 year in Sacramento. No Mosquitos best working weather, clean air because the wind from the Pacific clearing it out. I miss Minnesota. When I'm there I miss San Francisco.
My family left Minnesota when I was 13. I discovered PHC in 1982 at a party. A pushy lawyer insisted the music be turned off and radio tuned to a show he had to hear. Everyone said no but he got his way. After a few skits I realized this show was about people I knew and a land I knew. I grew up in a little town in southern Minnesota. I have listened ever since. I still listen to the replays on Saturday at 6. Doesn’t seem right any other day or time. Thanks Garrison.
Start spreadin' the news.....
Any plan to bring your show to New England??
Reading and listening to Garrison Keillor is continuing proof that, beneath the grimy accretions of bigotry and violence, the America I love and respect still exists.
Congratulations on keeping up some of your PHC appearances, and those of us in the hinterlands hope you’ll decide to live stream these two shows as you did in Nashville. Maybe you’ll adopt a plan to stream once the live venues have sold out. Sort of like the NFL once did.
I’ve been under the impression that you left Minnesota for New York some while ago. Maybe it’s taken awhile for your heart to make a full transition.
Happy trails, Garrison! Our roots in Michigan have gone so deep it's a wonder we can walk. I generally don't trust the footloose, so I'll keep an eye on you.
I saw that your show is called American Revival and I thought, "Finally! Garrison is embracing his calling as a pastor."
Counting chapel at school, I spent my childhood attending church 8 times a week (5X chapel, Wednesday evening prayer meeting, and 2X on Sunday). That's unhealthy and it can warp a person and it did warp many of the children who experienced it. They are now adults, but they live their lives believing that they are among a select few living at the center of a great cosmic drama between absolute good and absolute evil. The universe has endorsed their personal obsessions and fetishes.
Fortunately, I lucked into an antidote and that was Prairie Home Companion which had great special music and congregational singing, and the highlight was a homily in the form of a story which usually advised the parishioners to be generous toward other people and appreciate their good intentions. Don't take yourself so seriously and be cheerful and useful. PHC was the only church that ever made me want to be and feel like I could be a better person.
So, thank you Pastor Keillor. You've done good work.
God bless you Garrison. May you have happiness forever, then…. (Then is almost like an amen)
I don't think Bob ever wrote a song about hating leaving home but he wrote longingly for his friends from the past in Bob Dylan's Dream (on Freewheelin' 1963) :
While riding on a train goin' west
I fell asleep for to take my rest
I dreamed a dream that made me sad
Concerning myself and the first few friends I had
With half-damp eyes, I stared to the room
Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon
Where we together weathered many a storm
Laughin' and singin' till the early hours of the morn
By the old wooden stove our hats was hung
Our words was told, our songs was sung
Where we longed for nothin' and were satisfied
Jokin' and talkin' about the world outside
With hungry hearts through the heat and cold
We never much thought we could get very old
We thought we could sit forever in fun
And our chances really was a million to one
As easy, it was to tell black from white
It was all that easy to tell wrong from right
And our choices there was few
So the thought never hit
At the one road we travelled, we ever shatter or split
How many a year has passed and gone?
Many a gamble has been lost and won
And many a road taken by many a first friend
And each one I've never seen again
I wish, I wish, I wish in vain
That we could sit simply in that room again
Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat
I'd give it all gladly if our lives could be like that
Not sure why you need to throw Robert Bly under the bus, anytime you mention him. Bad form….
Clearly it's the influence of women that makes you willing to leave Minnesota, first to Denmark and now to New York on a permanent basis. The core of authenticity in your work has always been the evocation of the human, funny, foolish, and wise soul of the midwest, "out on the edge of the prairie." It will be much more difficult to do that as an expat New Yorker. But you have made a point of honor of shutting down your awareness of the larger world in favor of appreciating your own small quotidian experience. It's something that most people do around your age (I am your senior by several years). I understand wanting to retire; did it myself a few months ago. But somebody else's myopic retirement is not something that's likely to get nearly as much of my attention as your brilliant insights of old used to do.
GK,
Thanks for today’s post. I left MN in late 70’s and and I do make annual visits to family lake cabin with my grandson for whom I am legal guardian. (Long story there. )
I now live in Reno. NV and have grown to love the West though fears of water sources drying up are very real.
Question: do you EVER do shows in the West?
Thanks for uplifting so many of my days. Loved Boomtown. Now passing it on to all I know.
Best, Katy
How fortunate are we who have women whom we will follow wherever they go!
Ramsey is the smallest. Never realized that, it's reeealy small, in comparison. I've been in the bay area since 92 if you include 1 year in Sacramento. No Mosquitos best working weather, clean air because the wind from the Pacific clearing it out. I miss Minnesota. When I'm there I miss San Francisco.
My family left Minnesota when I was 13. I discovered PHC in 1982 at a party. A pushy lawyer insisted the music be turned off and radio tuned to a show he had to hear. Everyone said no but he got his way. After a few skits I realized this show was about people I knew and a land I knew. I grew up in a little town in southern Minnesota. I have listened ever since. I still listen to the replays on Saturday at 6. Doesn’t seem right any other day or time. Thanks Garrison.
Wait, didn't you already leave Minnesota?
You are the only writer that makes me laugh out loud! (Dennis, Not Nancy. I'm just using her account.)