I love the way "Bob" from Nepal defines Buddhism - just not hating anybody sounds like a good way to live. I'm very happy to hear that "...you're not there yet," and that Mrs. Keillor and Dr. Nash are taking good care of you.
I don't know the man, so I can't comment. Not hating IS a lot of work - if this person is the only one you hate in the world, I'd say you're doing pretty well.
Mr. K, remember this: He was dealt a whole different handful of DNA than you got. In many ways he can't help who he is. Neither can we. We may not be liked by each other, but the words of our gospel demand we understand that difference and still love one another. Tough call, isn't it?
Don't waste your time defending the one truly despicable man I know. He did terrible damage to many people and he has a right to be despised. Loving him is out of the question.
Wow Old Scout !! You scared the feces out of us with yesterday's oblique reference to "spending 24 hours in an ER". Glad you are done with testing at the "body shop" and now safely back in your Manhattan aerie. I think of you often because I talk to your cousin D. Johnson fairly regularly (my classmate from medical school). He's having just a Cracker Jack retirement, working around home and then buzzing around in his glider almost every day. He has a serene view of things, which I envy, as he too enters "his final chapter". As for me, I am boringly jumping solo out of airplanes over western Wisconsin as often as possible at age 78 and taking my BP meds and Metamucil and Lipitor every morning without fail. The dogs bark and the caravan rolls on. Just wish the rolling on part could be a little slower.
Dr. Lee, it sounds like you're making up for an over-achieving youth and trying to have the fun you missed out on in your teens. Me too. Just finished a novel and am working on a play. At 78 there is no such thing as writer's block.
GK: I missed out on some important “fun” and I know that you know precisely the kind of biological fun I'm talking about. I do envy your skill with words and have, as you recall, been a loyal fan since the early days on Sixth Street in St. Paul when you rose well before dawn to report for duty at Park Square Court with the autoharp well-tuned and sprayed with WD-40, etc. I hope this little neurological bump in the road for you has passed with absolutely no plan for return. You are an emotionally rugged trooper and that’s not only a nice encomium seldom used perhaps except in Lake Wobegon, but also an absolutely crucial skill needed for good performance in The Home Stretch, which I'm also navigating now with variably adequate emotional skill levels depending on the phase of the moon. I really look forward to reading your new novel and hearing about the play and I do appreciate your very last sentence in the email here — it reminds me of a companion, if not foundational, quote that came from that great humanist and moral philosopher, Hugh Marston Hefner, “There is no such thing as having too much fun”. The crazed Protestants in my home town of Munday, TX certainly would have deemed that notion uber-Satanic. But I made a Power Point slide of it anyway, with the exact citation from Playboy magazine (Vol. 26, page 18, 1981) right beneath and employed the slide often in various academic lectures I gave here and there around the USA. Sometimes this material drew guffaws, often just polite laughter, and a few times utterly dead silence.
I'm a midwesterner and am wary of pleasure except under guarded circumstances. I dread parties. But I have the pleasure of living with a very humorous woman and she can be a delight and I do what I can to help.
I'm glad you've recovered and were released from the hospital. Your story reminds me of the people and patients I've met during my career as a hospital worker in Detroit. Hospitals are a place where miracles and tragedies happen on a daily basis. Hospitals are a place where people in great need and those who have a great desire to help meet. Thank you for your story. You are in my prayers.
When I started my hospital career years ago, almost everyone wore a white uniform or white lab coat over their clothes. Now, scrubs are the normal uniform in a rainbow of colors. The uniforms may have changed during that time but the people who work there, professionals and non-professionals all have the same spirit and same purpose. It is great to watch it.
So glad to hear you are good to go. Lots on your plate to work on that we look forward to.
I had a similar episode with Transient Global Amnesia about ten years ago and for a few days had no short term recall and seemed to remember things as real that I probably only experienced in my dreams, where it seems I live a life far more interesting than this one This happened while exercising on a weight machine and resulted in a similar ER visit and scan to rule out a stroke. The whole episode gave me three things I value. I now have an excuse to avoid strenuous exercise; I have been prevented from spending a lot of money on long term care insurance due to ineligibility; the discovery that when the rest of my personality was busy coping with what was probably a trailer for dementia, the watcher within was free to take charge and was totally aware of what was happening. At that point, like you, he and I found the whole situation wildly amusing, much to my worried wife’s dismay.
I had to go to YouTube and listen to the Gentlemen do "Bringing Mary Home." As I was listening, a memory popped in. It was the summer of 1979 and we were inaugurating WKYU-FM, a brand new NPR affiliate, in Bowling Green KY. In the small studio was a small group of Blue Grass players headed up by Curtis Burch (Doctor Dobro). I was playing bass. Over in the corner a tall man with glasses was speaking into a microphone so softly that we never heard him. An old country barber was playing 5-string and my dentist was the fiddler. It was a week of fund raising and at the end, a Sunday night, there was a party at the studio. I saw the tall man from behind the microphone and went to make small talk with him and perhaps make him feel welcome. It was a time before the world was totally in thrall with you and PHC. It was such an honor.
It's blessed to find humor enduring ER tedium. My wife and I have been listening to PHC since the early 80s. We had an hour's drive back and forth from Amherst to Springfield, Mass for church services and an old beater car with no radio. So each Sunday before leaving our apartment I strung together two darkroom timers, one to trigger the other after an hour, and the other to turn on the radio and cassette recorder after another hour. Perfect timing to record the show, which we'd listen to in the evening. Stay well, friend, you've been part of our life a long time. God bless.
I'm happy to find another person who appreciates Bringing Mary Home by the Country Gentlemen. The lyrics may be based on stories that have circulated in the South for many decades and that are customized to various locales. Here in Atlanta, the little girl is waiting alongside Ponce de Leon Avenue far from town and asks to be taken to her home near Piedmont Ave.
I grew up Sanctified Brethren and my aunt Ruth told me that my great-grandfather William Evans Keillor was walking along a country road at night and felt surrounded by invisible people who were talking among themselves and he decided they were the Brethren he'd encountered at a gospel meeting in town and that they wanted him to ally his family with them and so he did and that's how we came to be Brethren and not Methodists. Now I'm Episco but I am waiting for W.E. to walk alongside me some dark night and caution me against papist finery. I've got a number of questions to ask him if he does.
I also thought Buddhists didn't hate anyone but Myanmar's Rohingya proved an ugly exception. And four cops to rescue a drunk from the ER? - wish we had their budget.
The drunk had called 911 numerous times and was loud and threatening and the cops came to have a look and quiet him down. Cops are entitled to a little amusement now and then.
Though I'm a "retired" cellist in LA these days, 30 years ago I was in the orchestra at the Oregon Bach Festival in Eugene for one of your shows. We assisted you in The Young Lutheran's Guide to the Orchestra, among other delights, and of course we cellists helped by buttoning kids into snowsuits, even thought those of us from Southern California were decidedly unclear on what a snowsuit actually was. No matter. I join my voice with those of your other far-flung friends: stay well, and thanks for everything.
I remember that show because everyone on stage was twice as capable as I and I was the one standing downstage from the others. Sort of like the prisoner tied to the post, blindfolded, and the firing squad beyond. It was hard making the orchestra laugh. I believe it was a benefit concert. I hope so because I don't think it was particularly good.
"Everyone on stage was twice as capable as I..." As you know all too well, you continue to articulate the inner thoughts of your listeners, particularly performers. As for getting an orchestra to laugh, though most of us are fortunate enough to have decent conductors a lot of the time, you have no idea of the relative merits of many of the stick-holders we see sometimes. We tend, therefore, to be adept at keeping a straight face at moments when openly hysterical laughter is not advisable. It may LOOK like vibrato. . . (My memory of that show is that it was particularly good.)
Hi Mr Keillor. I purchased you audio books that time of year. And the wake wobegon virus. That time of year. On disk 3 2 minutes in has the mistake of repeating the paragraph all over again. On the lake wobegon virus. On disk 6 track 11. After about 10 seconds. The disk is inaudible.
These are manufacturers mistakes. I purchased them when they were released
And informed your staff. They found the mistakes. On all copies. And it's now been more than 6 months of me trying to get a clean copy. That your staff has come to the conclusion. We don't care. We know they are all defective. But we don't care. Don't bother us. I can't tell you how disappointed I am. That this how they feel. I was going to buy the complete lake wobegon collection. For $290.00. But not know. Since I know that if the disk are bad. Nothing will be done about it. When I'm able. I'll attend your live shows. I enjoy them. Always have. But I see no reason to purchase anything. From a place that does not care about quality. I know others take care of the business side of things. But since it's your name on it. And it is your work. Not to mention the time it took you. To read the books. For the audible versions. I thought you should know. Roger McGrath
Mr. McGrath, Send me your address and we'll refund the money you paid. I'm sorry you haven't heard from the staff. (It's only two people, Kate and me.) It sounds like the entire audio edition of both books is defective and will need to be destroyed and other buyers refunded. We don't have the funds to put out another edition. Sorry. GK
First Thank you for so much laughter and enjoyment over the years.
And I do apologize. For going thru substack. But as I said I preordered both books. And imeditatly contacted prairie home. To let them know. The manufacturer mistake. That they over played your tapes wrong. So the mistake could be corrected. And the replacement cost low.
I spent up until today. 6 months. Emailing back and fourth with Helen. Being lead to believe. That someone named David. Was fixing the problem. Than I received this in the mail. Along with another bad disk.
I thought this is just a list cause. But at least you should be made aware of it. Because. People are not going to look at it as the manufacturer fault. But yours. Because it's your name on it.
Myself. I'm very grateful. You'd take the time to read your own stories. For the audio books. Knowing it takes more time. And a lot more hours. Than the audio we hear.
I'm happy to hear you're on the road again. And am hoping to see your show in St. Micheal on the 4th. Still trying to get time off if work.
My name again. Is
Roger McGrath
2708 Elm Street
Dubuque, Iowa
52001
And honestly. I'd much rather. Have. Good clear copy. Of both defective disk. So I can sit down and enjoy you telling the story. Much more than a refund.
In my back and fourth with Helen over the last 6 months. I mention to pass on to you. If you have ownership of your prairie home live video shows. Or your our shows. When go out on your own. And when you came to Dubuque
If you'd ever consider. Having them made into hologram shows. So your family could still have an income. From your shows. Long after you and I are gone. Roy Orbison family. Elvis and other entertainers have done this. Here is a link to Roy Orbison 2021 hour https://royorbisonconcerts.com/
In your case. I'd compare it to. If you could. Wouldn't you love to be able to sit through. Mark Twain. Talking about. And reading Buck Finn.
Or Charles Dickens a christmas carol. With today's technology. 100 years from now. People can once more enjoy prairie home. Live in the theater again.
Have a good evening.
And once more I apologize for going through substack. But after 6 months. I didn't know what else to do. And thought. Even though. Thus us not your fault. You should at least know about it.
Glad you’re going to be ok! I just spent two days in the hospital with a kidney stone. Wish I’d had as intriguing nurses and doctors as you did! Blessings, Nancy
On one of your Woebegon shows, many years ago, you uttered this profound one-liner: "You never know." True it is. Some day or night we will each be taken. Take care of yourself and back off the yummies.
Whether this applies to your situation or not, I say, "Always look to the drugs (you're taking), or what you recently took differently." The Rx commercials don't scroll through numerous side effects to make themselves look good. While I am not a Christian Scientist, but I do believe the less drugs, the better, but when you need them, do the best you can.
I'm on a simple blood thinner, an anti-seizure med, and a beta blocker. I wake up feeling pretty eager and fade in the afternoon so I can enjoy a quick nap and I go until bedtime. I felt a sag after finishing my novel but now I'm onto a new play about cowboys, a sort of Ionesco farce. I love writing the Substack stuff. It's so much more fun than sending essays to Harper's or the Atlantic and waiting a month or two for the rejection. Thanks for the warning though.
I love the way "Bob" from Nepal defines Buddhism - just not hating anybody sounds like a good way to live. I'm very happy to hear that "...you're not there yet," and that Mrs. Keillor and Dr. Nash are taking good care of you.
I am reluctant to give up hating the one man I hate. He is a perfect object of hatred and it would take so much work to even respect him.
I don't know the man, so I can't comment. Not hating IS a lot of work - if this person is the only one you hate in the world, I'd say you're doing pretty well.
Mr. K, remember this: He was dealt a whole different handful of DNA than you got. In many ways he can't help who he is. Neither can we. We may not be liked by each other, but the words of our gospel demand we understand that difference and still love one another. Tough call, isn't it?
Don't waste your time defending the one truly despicable man I know. He did terrible damage to many people and he has a right to be despised. Loving him is out of the question.
Despising and not loving someone are two different choices altogether.
Despising him makes me love other people more. Good to have contrast.
Gradations of loving might be the better way to go. I do believe we create our own reckonings. See C.S. Lewis' "The Great Divorce."
Wow Old Scout !! You scared the feces out of us with yesterday's oblique reference to "spending 24 hours in an ER". Glad you are done with testing at the "body shop" and now safely back in your Manhattan aerie. I think of you often because I talk to your cousin D. Johnson fairly regularly (my classmate from medical school). He's having just a Cracker Jack retirement, working around home and then buzzing around in his glider almost every day. He has a serene view of things, which I envy, as he too enters "his final chapter". As for me, I am boringly jumping solo out of airplanes over western Wisconsin as often as possible at age 78 and taking my BP meds and Metamucil and Lipitor every morning without fail. The dogs bark and the caravan rolls on. Just wish the rolling on part could be a little slower.
Dr. Lee, it sounds like you're making up for an over-achieving youth and trying to have the fun you missed out on in your teens. Me too. Just finished a novel and am working on a play. At 78 there is no such thing as writer's block.
GK: I missed out on some important “fun” and I know that you know precisely the kind of biological fun I'm talking about. I do envy your skill with words and have, as you recall, been a loyal fan since the early days on Sixth Street in St. Paul when you rose well before dawn to report for duty at Park Square Court with the autoharp well-tuned and sprayed with WD-40, etc. I hope this little neurological bump in the road for you has passed with absolutely no plan for return. You are an emotionally rugged trooper and that’s not only a nice encomium seldom used perhaps except in Lake Wobegon, but also an absolutely crucial skill needed for good performance in The Home Stretch, which I'm also navigating now with variably adequate emotional skill levels depending on the phase of the moon. I really look forward to reading your new novel and hearing about the play and I do appreciate your very last sentence in the email here — it reminds me of a companion, if not foundational, quote that came from that great humanist and moral philosopher, Hugh Marston Hefner, “There is no such thing as having too much fun”. The crazed Protestants in my home town of Munday, TX certainly would have deemed that notion uber-Satanic. But I made a Power Point slide of it anyway, with the exact citation from Playboy magazine (Vol. 26, page 18, 1981) right beneath and employed the slide often in various academic lectures I gave here and there around the USA. Sometimes this material drew guffaws, often just polite laughter, and a few times utterly dead silence.
I'm a midwesterner and am wary of pleasure except under guarded circumstances. I dread parties. But I have the pleasure of living with a very humorous woman and she can be a delight and I do what I can to help.
I'm glad you've recovered and were released from the hospital. Your story reminds me of the people and patients I've met during my career as a hospital worker in Detroit. Hospitals are a place where miracles and tragedies happen on a daily basis. Hospitals are a place where people in great need and those who have a great desire to help meet. Thank you for your story. You are in my prayers.
I loved watching the people in white work. And the ones in blue and the ones in suits. And the very pregnant neurology resident. A great cast.
When I started my hospital career years ago, almost everyone wore a white uniform or white lab coat over their clothes. Now, scrubs are the normal uniform in a rainbow of colors. The uniforms may have changed during that time but the people who work there, professionals and non-professionals all have the same spirit and same purpose. It is great to watch it.
So glad to hear you are good to go. Lots on your plate to work on that we look forward to.
I had a similar episode with Transient Global Amnesia about ten years ago and for a few days had no short term recall and seemed to remember things as real that I probably only experienced in my dreams, where it seems I live a life far more interesting than this one This happened while exercising on a weight machine and resulted in a similar ER visit and scan to rule out a stroke. The whole episode gave me three things I value. I now have an excuse to avoid strenuous exercise; I have been prevented from spending a lot of money on long term care insurance due to ineligibility; the discovery that when the rest of my personality was busy coping with what was probably a trailer for dementia, the watcher within was free to take charge and was totally aware of what was happening. At that point, like you, he and I found the whole situation wildly amusing, much to my worried wife’s dismay.
Now you're making me envious of TGA. Guess I'll have to start lifting weights.
I had to go to YouTube and listen to the Gentlemen do "Bringing Mary Home." As I was listening, a memory popped in. It was the summer of 1979 and we were inaugurating WKYU-FM, a brand new NPR affiliate, in Bowling Green KY. In the small studio was a small group of Blue Grass players headed up by Curtis Burch (Doctor Dobro). I was playing bass. Over in the corner a tall man with glasses was speaking into a microphone so softly that we never heard him. An old country barber was playing 5-string and my dentist was the fiddler. It was a week of fund raising and at the end, a Sunday night, there was a party at the studio. I saw the tall man from behind the microphone and went to make small talk with him and perhaps make him feel welcome. It was a time before the world was totally in thrall with you and PHC. It was such an honor.
There's a great many tall men with glasses, it could've been anyone.
True, but since getting to know a little about you over the years, I’ve always wanted to apologize for accosting with small talk that night.
Small talk is my specialty. It's all small and the pretentious stuff is tinier than ever.
It's blessed to find humor enduring ER tedium. My wife and I have been listening to PHC since the early 80s. We had an hour's drive back and forth from Amherst to Springfield, Mass for church services and an old beater car with no radio. So each Sunday before leaving our apartment I strung together two darkroom timers, one to trigger the other after an hour, and the other to turn on the radio and cassette recorder after another hour. Perfect timing to record the show, which we'd listen to in the evening. Stay well, friend, you've been part of our life a long time. God bless.
You're the first person I've heard of who used two timers and a recorder. You put as much effort into hearing the show as I put into doing it.
I'm happy to find another person who appreciates Bringing Mary Home by the Country Gentlemen. The lyrics may be based on stories that have circulated in the South for many decades and that are customized to various locales. Here in Atlanta, the little girl is waiting alongside Ponce de Leon Avenue far from town and asks to be taken to her home near Piedmont Ave.
I grew up Sanctified Brethren and my aunt Ruth told me that my great-grandfather William Evans Keillor was walking along a country road at night and felt surrounded by invisible people who were talking among themselves and he decided they were the Brethren he'd encountered at a gospel meeting in town and that they wanted him to ally his family with them and so he did and that's how we came to be Brethren and not Methodists. Now I'm Episco but I am waiting for W.E. to walk alongside me some dark night and caution me against papist finery. I've got a number of questions to ask him if he does.
Hope you're feeling better Garrison and that the seizures can be controlled.
I feel better than better. Feel sort of high. I never got high on grass and of course alcohol is a depressant so this is sort of wonderful.
I also thought Buddhists didn't hate anyone but Myanmar's Rohingya proved an ugly exception. And four cops to rescue a drunk from the ER? - wish we had their budget.
The drunk had called 911 numerous times and was loud and threatening and the cops came to have a look and quiet him down. Cops are entitled to a little amusement now and then.
Though I'm a "retired" cellist in LA these days, 30 years ago I was in the orchestra at the Oregon Bach Festival in Eugene for one of your shows. We assisted you in The Young Lutheran's Guide to the Orchestra, among other delights, and of course we cellists helped by buttoning kids into snowsuits, even thought those of us from Southern California were decidedly unclear on what a snowsuit actually was. No matter. I join my voice with those of your other far-flung friends: stay well, and thanks for everything.
I remember that show because everyone on stage was twice as capable as I and I was the one standing downstage from the others. Sort of like the prisoner tied to the post, blindfolded, and the firing squad beyond. It was hard making the orchestra laugh. I believe it was a benefit concert. I hope so because I don't think it was particularly good.
"Everyone on stage was twice as capable as I..." As you know all too well, you continue to articulate the inner thoughts of your listeners, particularly performers. As for getting an orchestra to laugh, though most of us are fortunate enough to have decent conductors a lot of the time, you have no idea of the relative merits of many of the stick-holders we see sometimes. We tend, therefore, to be adept at keeping a straight face at moments when openly hysterical laughter is not advisable. It may LOOK like vibrato. . . (My memory of that show is that it was particularly good.)
Hi Mr Keillor. I purchased you audio books that time of year. And the wake wobegon virus. That time of year. On disk 3 2 minutes in has the mistake of repeating the paragraph all over again. On the lake wobegon virus. On disk 6 track 11. After about 10 seconds. The disk is inaudible.
These are manufacturers mistakes. I purchased them when they were released
And informed your staff. They found the mistakes. On all copies. And it's now been more than 6 months of me trying to get a clean copy. That your staff has come to the conclusion. We don't care. We know they are all defective. But we don't care. Don't bother us. I can't tell you how disappointed I am. That this how they feel. I was going to buy the complete lake wobegon collection. For $290.00. But not know. Since I know that if the disk are bad. Nothing will be done about it. When I'm able. I'll attend your live shows. I enjoy them. Always have. But I see no reason to purchase anything. From a place that does not care about quality. I know others take care of the business side of things. But since it's your name on it. And it is your work. Not to mention the time it took you. To read the books. For the audible versions. I thought you should know. Roger McGrath
Mr. McGrath, Send me your address and we'll refund the money you paid. I'm sorry you haven't heard from the staff. (It's only two people, Kate and me.) It sounds like the entire audio edition of both books is defective and will need to be destroyed and other buyers refunded. We don't have the funds to put out another edition. Sorry. GK
Hello Mr Keillor
First Thank you for so much laughter and enjoyment over the years.
And I do apologize. For going thru substack. But as I said I preordered both books. And imeditatly contacted prairie home. To let them know. The manufacturer mistake. That they over played your tapes wrong. So the mistake could be corrected. And the replacement cost low.
I spent up until today. 6 months. Emailing back and fourth with Helen. Being lead to believe. That someone named David. Was fixing the problem. Than I received this in the mail. Along with another bad disk.
I thought this is just a list cause. But at least you should be made aware of it. Because. People are not going to look at it as the manufacturer fault. But yours. Because it's your name on it.
Myself. I'm very grateful. You'd take the time to read your own stories. For the audio books. Knowing it takes more time. And a lot more hours. Than the audio we hear.
I'm happy to hear you're on the road again. And am hoping to see your show in St. Micheal on the 4th. Still trying to get time off if work.
My name again. Is
Roger McGrath
2708 Elm Street
Dubuque, Iowa
52001
And honestly. I'd much rather. Have. Good clear copy. Of both defective disk. So I can sit down and enjoy you telling the story. Much more than a refund.
In my back and fourth with Helen over the last 6 months. I mention to pass on to you. If you have ownership of your prairie home live video shows. Or your our shows. When go out on your own. And when you came to Dubuque
If you'd ever consider. Having them made into hologram shows. So your family could still have an income. From your shows. Long after you and I are gone. Roy Orbison family. Elvis and other entertainers have done this. Here is a link to Roy Orbison 2021 hour https://royorbisonconcerts.com/
In your case. I'd compare it to. If you could. Wouldn't you love to be able to sit through. Mark Twain. Talking about. And reading Buck Finn.
Or Charles Dickens a christmas carol. With today's technology. 100 years from now. People can once more enjoy prairie home. Live in the theater again.
Have a good evening.
And once more I apologize for going through substack. But after 6 months. I didn't know what else to do. And thought. Even though. Thus us not your fault. You should at least know about it.
Roger McGrath
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Glad you’re going to be ok! I just spent two days in the hospital with a kidney stone. Wish I’d had as intriguing nurses and doctors as you did! Blessings, Nancy
On one of your Woebegon shows, many years ago, you uttered this profound one-liner: "You never know." True it is. Some day or night we will each be taken. Take care of yourself and back off the yummies.
Right up there with, "Could be worse."
Whether this applies to your situation or not, I say, "Always look to the drugs (you're taking), or what you recently took differently." The Rx commercials don't scroll through numerous side effects to make themselves look good. While I am not a Christian Scientist, but I do believe the less drugs, the better, but when you need them, do the best you can.
I'm on a simple blood thinner, an anti-seizure med, and a beta blocker. I wake up feeling pretty eager and fade in the afternoon so I can enjoy a quick nap and I go until bedtime. I felt a sag after finishing my novel but now I'm onto a new play about cowboys, a sort of Ionesco farce. I love writing the Substack stuff. It's so much more fun than sending essays to Harper's or the Atlantic and waiting a month or two for the rejection. Thanks for the warning though.