Post to the Host

Comments for the week of 12.24.23

Hello, Garrison.

When I asked my wonderful 75-year-old girlfriend what she wanted for her birthday, she immediately said, “I want to go to New York to see Garrison Keillor at Town Hall.” So, I booked a flight from New Orleans and bought the tickets. She was thrilled. After an early dinner in Soho and finding our subway station closed, we took an Uber to Town Hall, painstakingly inching up Sixth Avenue for 35 minutes in Christmas traffic. We got out five blocks away and ran (okay, fast walked) to the theater to get there on time.

On our way up the stairs to the balcony, there were three elderly blind people ahead of us, struggling to take each step. Two very patient ushers helped them. I thought about the determination and courage it would take to get from their homes to the unfamiliar upperreaches of Town Hall. These were people with a mission.

During intermission, a well-dressed man came up the stairs, breathing heavily. Addressing no one in particular, he said, in an accent worthy of a soprano character, “It took me three hours to come in from Jersey!” Then he turned to me and asked, with trepidation, “Did he do Lives of the Cowboys yet?” You had, and it was an excellent episode. He looked distraught.

I relate these vignettes to remind you of your audience’s devotion. You are important to us. You are like our old friend. After all, we did spend Saturday nights with you for decades. And we are still more than willing to pay money and overcome obstacles to get to a theater to listen to you give us the news from a place that doesn’t exist — except in your mind and ours.

When the curtain closed and the applause finally died down, my girlfriend turned to me and said, “That was wonderful. The best birthday present I ever had.”

Thank you, Garrison. You were never better.

Best,
Aaron Shipper
New Orleans

Aaron, now I feel guilty that the show wasn’t broadcast so those people could’ve sat in the comfort of their own homes and listened to it (or dozed through it) but felt compelled to make their way into the madhouse of Midtown in December. Well, I guess adversity does bring out the best in people. As I write this, I’m on a ship in the Caribbean, no adversity whatsoever, and I miss it. Thanks for bringing your girlfriend. Next year buy her a diamond. GK

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I’m sitting home with COVID and nothing to do. Here’s my limerick commemorating this holiday season.

Christmas with COVID gets old
Stuck home, it’s hard not to scold
When friends who don’t test
Stay out with the rest
And say, “But mine’s just a cold.”

Sheila McGrath

Well said. Life is unfair. I had lunch with friends a couple weeks ago. One came down with COVID and I didn’t and so I didn’t have to cancel my cruise to the Caribbean. But thanks for writing the limerick. GK

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Dear Garrison,

This is just a note to say thank you. I woke up this morning dreaming about you. At your request, I was showing you around my town and you were being very polite and interested in all its oddities. Who knows where that came from.

But it reminded me that you have made my life better with your many loving appreciations of the great struggle we all share.

Thank you for all you create and give.

Sincerely,
Susan Pittman

You are the only person I’ve asked for a tour of a hometown. The only one. I am grateful. GK

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Garrison,

Frank Stoeber began the World’s Largest Ball of Twine in Cawker City, Kansas, in 1953. After visiting this historic site, it occurred to me that in the center of the Ball may be Frank’s wife, sitting in a chair, holding the other end.

Gary Gackstatter 

I frankly doubt it. I think the wife of a twine-winder would’ve left him long before he launched on the project. GK

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