Post the Host

Comments from the weeks of February 26th and March 5th

Mar 13, 2023

Hello, Mr. Keillor.

I just finished reading your essay The old man’s lecture about manners (boring). It made me think of this short essay by Elie Wiesel:

One of the Just Men came to Sodom, determined to save its inhabitants from sin and punishment. Night and day he walked the streets and markets, protesting against greed and theft, falsehood and indifference. In the beginning people listened and smiled ironically. Then they stopped listening. He no longer even amused them. The killers went on killing. The wise kept silent, as if there were no Just Men in their midst.

One day a child, moved by compassion for the unfortunate teacher, approached him with these words: “Poor stranger. You shout, you scream. Don’t you see that it is hopeless?”

“Yes, I see,” answered the Just Man.

“Then why,” said the child, “do you go on?”

“I’ll tell you why. In the beginning I thought I could change man. Today, I know I cannot. If I still shout today, if I still scream,” he said, “it is to prevent man from ultimately changing me.” *

* Elie Wiesel, “The Just Man,” Published in “One Generation After,” by Elie Wiesel, (New York, NY: Schocken Books, 1982), page 77

Monty Dickson

Thanks for the story. I live in New York, which some people back where I come from consider to be Sodom and I walk the streets in silence. It’s a fascinating city with a long history and one should learn more about it before making proclamations. And I’m too old for New York to change me: I’m an Anokan from Minnesota. GK

GK,

Where is Sue Scott these days? Will she be on any of your shows in the future.

I miss Duane and his mother.

John Babbs

Sue is busy back in Minneapolis doing theater and doing her podcast, “The Island of Discarded Women,” which is distributed by Apple. And yes, I trust she’ll be on some future PHCs as we near the 50^th anniversary. I can’t imagine anyone else as Duane’s mother, nor can he. GK

Garrison,

I remember when you were cool. I idolized you. Came to your shows, listened faithfully. Then you were my neighbor on Portland Avenue. One day I was walking and saw you coming my way. Excitedly, I said “Hello.” You said nothing and my bubble was burst!

I guess that’s cool? You’ve provided me hours of entertainment over the years, so I guess I can forgive your “coolness.” No doubt deep in thought, creating the next monologue.

Memory from the past … way past. 1980s.

Jean Knox

Sorry I made you feel bad. I think I must not have heard you. I wish you well. GK

GK,

Let us be grateful for the gifts we have, whatever. You do have a great gift. Many of us can do neither. And only a few can do one or both, especially an octogenarian. Please continue to share your fine radio gift as you have these many years. As for TV, all we do is look and listen, and you perform … bless you.

Thanks. Odd you should mention TV, I’m working on a Lake Wobegon series for streaming cable and I doubt that it’ll ever get picked up but it’s fun trying to imagine those people again. GK

Greetings!

Many times over the years during a monologue or skit when Garrison used the word epitome he would pronounce it phonetically, pronouncing the last syllable -tome as one pronounces the word home. Being a charter member of POEM I’m sure he knows the correct pronunciation of the word and he intentionally mispronounced it. The listeners need to know, did Garrison deliberately mispronounce epitome?

Many thanks and best regards.

Mike Colbert

Quinlan, Texas

Yes. GK

Mr. Keillor,

Just wanted to drop a line and relay to you my appreciation for your creation The Writer’s Almanac.

I must say your podcast made the world I lived and traveled through immeasurably more colorful. Whether looking out the window of a train in northern Italy, or watching it snow at an Onsen in Japan, or standing at the Conciergerie contemplating Robespierre, listening to you educate the world was a gift that remade every window into stained glass. I spent thirty years flying around the planet, life and culture were clearer through the prism of your stories. When I arrived home, my two daughters always wanted to read Cat, You Better Come Home. Thanks for all the seasoning in our lives, and the satisfaction of enjoying a tale by a master raconteur. Thanks, it was humbly appreciated.

David Hopkins

Thanks, David, but I think the Almanac would’ve been better if it had been done by a guy flying around the planet rather than a guy in a studio in St. Paul. My stuff came from books, yours from firsthand experience. Wish we’d changed places. GK

Dear Garrison,

I had an operation for a left inguinal hernia at Torrejón Air Base in Spain back in 1989. In those days, the first day or so was spent in the hospital post-op. My wife brought me a book from the base library — Lake Wobegon Days. It was the most painful book I ever read because it hurt to laugh. Now I’m scheduled for a right inguinal hernia surgery come Thursday. I’ll go home that same day due to the advances in surgical technique over the years. Guess which book will be at my bedside: an old, well-thumbed paperback copy of that same book, found at the Fairfax library a few weeks ago on a shelf labeled, “Free, take one.” Déjà vu.

Best Regards,

Steve Turner

I liked writing that book, cobbled together from radio monologues, which I did in a house on Goodrich Avenue in St. Paul, working on a Selectric electric typewriter. My editor at Viking, Kathryn Court, flew out to St. Paul and spent a week with me working on it, which was highly unusual at the time, and she was awfully smart about order and organization, which is not my strong suit. My girlfriend at the time thought it was a dreadful book and we broke up over that disagreement. A dramatic year. I think about it when I’m in St. Paul and sometimes I drive by that house where something good happened. GK

Dear Mr. K.,

Re your reply to Rich Klingman in today’s Post to the Host (text below).

You’re giving me an idea for a novel, Rich. An old man has a heart operation in which a pig valve is substituted for his faulty mitral valve and his body rejects it and a DNA test shows that he is a Sephardic Jew, not an evangelical Protestant, and gigantic computers trace his genetic makeup to the lost twin brother, Michael Bloomberg, who invests millions of dollars in developing a beautiful porcelain valve that works so well, I become youthful and very intelligent, so much so that I run a successful campaign to elect him president. Thanks. GK

I would love to read this book so please get typing!!

Best wishes,

Liz Daw

United Kingdom

As soon as I finish the novel I just started, about the coldest winter in Minnesota history, I’ll think about it. GK

GK,

Thank you for a magical evening at the Grand Theatre in Frankfort, Kentucky. My husband and I are still chuckling, and still smiling at the warmth of just being in the same space with you.

One apology and one suggestion.

I’m sorry for probably being the one who started the clapping when you finished the news from Lake Wobegon. I was so happy I couldn’t help it, but then I regretted not being able to hear you give the famous sign-off because of all the applause.

So here’s my suggestion: When you say, “That’s the news from Lake Wobegon …,” you might pause and gesture to the audience before you say “where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.” That way, your fans could say it along with you before they break into applause. Just a thought.

Thanks for being you!

Margaret Townsley

That was a fine crowd in Frankfort and they sang “It Is Well With My Soul” beautifully and they didn’t blanch when I said something nice about Mitch McConnell. It’s a handsome town. And thanks for cueing the applause after the News. I sort of left it hanging at the end and you made sure the audience knew that was all there was.

Dear Mr. Keillor,

It seems to me, that readers and writers of Post to the Host think that your Lake Wobegon stories actually are true and not fiction. Are they right?

All the best from Copenhagen. Come back soon!

Ole

I hope they are true — true to life — but I left that life behind and so I’m only guessing. GK

Dear Garrison,

I was struck by your comment about feeling you’d somehow missed out by not reading Dickens. I’ve always enjoyed his work, but his first novel, The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, has (for me) been a laugh-out-loud joy ever since my first reading.

Recently, because I now have a very long daily commute, I chose an audio production of Pickwick that included a fascinating introduction by Neil Gaiman. He pointed out that Dickens started the work not really knowing how to write a novel and not especially interested in doing so — it was a commission, essentially, for a few words to go with funny pictures about sporting gentlemen.

That changed.

Pickwick starts out as a chump, and not an especially well-written one. But something extraordinary happens: Dickens comes alight. You can feel it, see it in the language and in the story. And by the time his hilarious Cockney manservant enters the story you’re totally on Pickwick’s side.

Please let me commend it to you.

And thank you, GK, for the decades of joy and laughter and everything else you have brought to my life. It’s not often we get to say that to “entertainment” figures and I’m glad to have this chance.

Best,

Rich Harris

As soon as my wife gets me an iPad I’m going to look at Dickens. She loved him as a kid and I think it’s about time I got started. GK

Garrison,

When she was younger, my wife and many of her friends used to live on Grand Avenue in St. Paul. We’re talking long ago … last century! They would all get very excited when they would catch a glimpse of you. We were often regaled with that week’s “Gary” sightings when we would gather together on the weekends. They were big fans of yours, and that is how I came to be one as well. And that explains how you came to have a dolt in the audience in Omaha who caused a ruckus by dropping his phone during your show.

My apologies for the distraction. I really dislike it when others do things like that. You handled it brilliantly, however.

And thanks for coming to see us. A great show.

Blair

It was no problem at all, Blair. I wish I’d thought of a better line than what I came up with (“Are you okay?”) but the show went on and it was a fine crowd. Downtown Omaha is one of the fine downtowns of the Midwest. Impressive. And the theater had a lovely dance floor. We should’ve brought a Tex-Mex band along. GK

Hello, Mr. Keillor.

You posted a beautiful video of the virtual choir from the Church of St. Paul the Apostle in NYC singing “I Am the Bread of Life.” It reminded me of my virtual church choir stint during the pandemic. I grew up singing in my school choir. I love singing with a group, but this atheist never thought of joining a church choir. Well, lo and behold! St. John’s Episcopal church in Spokane, Washington, accepts all sorts of believers and nonbelievers. For a couple of months, during the Christmas season of 2020, I joyously sang my heart out with a wonderful group of individuals of all ages.
Kelly

Spokane, Washington

Glad to have you in the family and if you feel like following along on the prayers, go right ahead. GK

GK,

I was a military brat, growing up in the early ’60s when TV shows like Combat and The Rat Patrol were popular so we played war. I wrote a poem about this and read it to a creative writing class at a local college. When I asked if any of them had ever played War or Cops and Robbers, not one hand went up. I read another poem about fishing with my dad and asked how many had gone fishing — I think there were half a dozen out of thirty students. It seems as if groups of kids making up imaginary battles are not common, and I wonder if it is that group play is more structured by adults or has everything gone virtual? Do you find your audience growing older? Do younger adults still resonate to Lake Wobegon?

Catharine Clark-Sayles

I try to stay away from reminiscence in monologues because so much of that old world is gone, including Cowboys and War and much more. I don’t see many young people in my audience and that’s okay. The audience that does come is one that knows the words to old songs and so we stand during intermission and sing, which is the part of the show I love most. To hear a thousand people sing the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” is a joy. And “America.” Oh, my god. GK

Dear Mr. Keillor (Garrison),

I wanted to respond to your post about the woman in Kentucky.

I was born in Kentucky, but lived in North Carolina near Asheville when this encounter happened:

I had recently left my husband and was bouncing from friend to friend until I could function on my own. I was feeling fragile and homeless and went into a Shoney’s one morning to get breakfast. After looking at the breakfast bar, I just didn’t see anything I could eat, so I finally just got a couple of spoonfuls of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast. The waitress, a well-worn blonde woman, came by to see how I was doing. When she looked at what I had on my plate, she said, “Why Honey, that ain’t even enough to choke a chicken!” That compassion delivered in good humor was just what I needed.

And thank you, Garrison, for delivering the stories we all need to combat the current “climate” in the country.

Judy Harris

The manners of sweetness is one thing I love about the South, I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t expect it but when it happens it makes me happy because, to a guy from Minnesota, it is so rare. GK

GK,

If you and Johnny Cash took a long road trip together alone, what would you talk about?

Best,

Jane

We’d talk about the Carter Family and Mother Maybelle and A.P. and Sara and we’d probably sing some of their songs. GK

Hi, Garrison.
I have noticed that as I got older, I was becoming a “honner” too — in fact just before I read your column I was on the phone making a doctor’s appointment and was signing off that way. I live in Northeast Pennsylvania, and don’t hear it all that much, but for me it seems to have become a habitual way of adding a touch extra weight (when you feel a little extra gratitude) to the final “Thanks”— e.g. “Thanks, hon.” Nowadays I think as a woman it is “safe” to say to persons of all gender persuasions, but if I were a man I would be afraid to say it to anyone! Amazing how complicated life has become these days …

Best,
Pat McCormack

I don’t mind the prohibition against men saying it. I understand. I’m sure it’s fading away and probably in ten years will disappear entirely, but it’s sweet that you maintain it. GK

Dear Garrison,

This is a note from a fan more bashful than you.

I have been wanting to write to you for years and now that my wife, Zola, passed last year and my days are numbered, I wanted to relate what you have been in my life.

I joined MPR back in 1976 when we moved up from Kansas City in 1973 for me to work at 3M. The primary reason we joined MPR was because of you. No ifs and or buts. I started listening when you had the morning show. I remember you started your show playing at local colleges in their auditoriums and then got a slot on MPR Saturday nights. I donated much to help your efforts in buying the World Theater and the success it had with our community.

After we retired, we had more free time and participated in many MPR events. I personally feel that you made MPR into the great radio station it is. In my opinion, I feel that you have done much to make this a better world and I thank you.

Richard Eugene Hardwick

They were good years, Mr. Hardwick, and thank you for your help in making them so, and I’m sorry to hear of the passing of your wife. At our age we learn to savor the time we have and to put the past behind us and I am enjoying life day by day. Today I had lunch with four young people, a lunch at which nobody talked about knee replacements or memory loss, and one of the young persons was pregnant. It was at the Met museum and we walked around looking at statuary and tonight my wife and I went to a Broadway show with jokes so old I think I used some of them on my morning show. The crowd loved it. I’m still writing and doing shows and I trust you are staying busy. Be well and don’t take any wooden nickels. GK

Garrison,

My wife and I traveled across three states to attend your March 3 performance in Sioux City. Worth every mile, we drove across Montana, Wyoming, and South Dakota! Everything about the night was special. Doug and Joan who were seated next to us and from Sioux Falls thought we were kidding about our adventure in being there. Doug, a dairy farmer, related his listening to PHC while milking his cows. That’s about as serene as it gets.

Bruce Hall

Piltzville, Montana

What an honor to hear from you. I hope the drive was good. We drove to that show from Fargo, across snowy prairie and it was gorgeous. Sam and Rich and Heather and I have known each other for decades and the conversation was worth every mile. Old friends are gold, as the song says. GK

As a former speech writer, I am greatly impressed by your ability to speak so eloquently and provide the news from Lake Wobegon extemporaneously. I am very curious as to your process — do you write everything out and memorize it, do you sketch out bullet points and create from that framework, or do you establish a theme and a series of jokes/anecdotal scenes and verbally “fill in the blanks” as the performance takes place?

No matter what your answer may be, I applaud you as a tremendously gifted speaker. I believe you provide us all with a glimpse of how Samuel Clemens commanded audiences around the world more than a century ago.

Charles B.

It’s a haphazard process, sir, that begins with writing but I don’t want to memorize it and trap myself into the text, so I figure that if I write something good I’ll remember it and fill in the blanks with whatever comes to mind. So far it works okay. GK

My wife and I started attending your concerts in the old sculpture garden when there was one sculpture!! We would bring a blanket, some cheese and crackers and a bottle of wine. They were wonderful times. What was the name of the “queen of the autoharp?” Can’t remember her but often times you would both play.

Robert W.

That would be Stevie Beck who was a gifted luthier and now is a copy editor. I believe she’s put the autoharp aside but who knows? I can tell you that she’s an ace editor. GK

I don’t believe that I have ever seen or heard you laugh — a real down to earth belly laugh. Is there a recorded instance?

John Tracey

Welland, Ontario, Canada

I don’t think I’ve ever laughed onstage but I do sometimes backstage, such as when Heather Masse sings in her baritone voice or the limerick about the young man of Madras. And sometimes my daughter tells me the penguin joke, which I love. GK