Dear Garrison,
Your recent post about you and Madame needing to give things away reminds me of my own situation. I have a basement full of stuff from the past, mostly from my husband’s past, and he can’t seem to part with things. He’s a sentimental guy, which is one of the many things I love about him, but it also means we have too many family “heirlooms” that serve no purpose. I don’t want my children to have to deal with this when “the time comes,” if you get my drift. How have you managed to get rid of memorabilia and all the things you must have accumulated during your lifetime and illustrious career? Have you had to deal with any emotional baggage that comes with purging?
Tammy Jo
I’m not sentimental about stuff at all and when we moved out of a big house in St. Paul, we went ripping through like a tornado and disposed of furniture, thousands of books, and most of the souvenirs. I did a weekly radio show for years and you get in the habit of not looking back. Writing is all about the next thing. I never go back and read old stuff, never listen to old tapes. I like hotel rooms for the sterility of them. No distraction. Open up the laptop and start writing. I am sentimental about old photographs, simply because they’re rare. My grandpa Keillor standing with his team of horses in the front of the old farmhouse that my dad grew up in that burned down. Pictures of my mother and father when they were dating. My aunts as children. My 5th-grade class at Benson School. Mysterious photographs that I sit and stare at and try to figure out what those people were thinking back in 1927. My grandma and her twin sister, Della, when they were railroad telegraphers. My sentimental stuff would barely fill a manila folder, not a basement. Good luck, TJ, you’ve got your work cut out for you.
GK
Hi, Garrison.
The recent Post to the Host comment that was critical of your choice to be a spectator late in life vs. choosing to be more involved in saving our planet reminded me of this recent advice offered by Bill McKibben:
“Get involved in climate action with organizations such as the Third Act (thirdact.org), which is aimed at engaging activists over age 60, or the Elders Climate Organization (eldersclimateaction.org).
“People over 60 need to act less as individuals and should join other movements and groups in order to better make your voice heard,” McKibben said.
McKibben also offered this advice on how he copes with depressing news about the climate crisis: pay attention to and get out into the remaining beauty on Earth as often as possible.
Keep writing (which I believe is a form of activism), and definitely keep going out to sit in that park bench enjoying the remaining beauty on Earth.
Mark Larson, Arcata, Calif.
I went to a benefit last week for Liberty In North Korea (LINK), which works to help people escape from North Korea and also open up channels of news and communication. A woman who’d escaped with their help gave a powerful moving account of her struggle and the chair of the organization called for donations and in about fifteen minutes of fast talking he got about $700K, it was very impressive. I did benefits back when I was a big shot and the money raised was miniscule. The LINK crowd was mostly South Koreans who’d done well in the world and the motivation was powerful, even for those who were born in this country. The regime in the North is brutal and people in the South have relatives up there. By comparison, climate change is an issue that has not yet become clear to most Americans and activists have not managed to frame it in a gripping way. At the LINK event, I saw activism that works. Activism for show is another matter.
GK
Why now at 79 must you try so hard to be hip. You are not hip and never will be. And that is what makes you cool. OK, Daddy-O?
Lee De Libera
I wish I knew what you’re trying to say, sir. I’m not aware of trying hard at all. I’ve been coasting for about five years.
GK
Hi, GK.
Not long after I retired 11 years ago, I decided to make a short, self-directed retreat. I picked up a short commentary and guide to “The Spiritual Exercises” of St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. Not long into it I read this: “Sin is ingratitude.” There is much food for meditation in this profound statement, and I think of it often when prompted. A week or two ago, a woman wrote that she follows your shows and writing because you always seem very grateful. Amen to that.
Cheers,
Bill, Lawrence, KS
I’m an old fundamentalist, not a Jesuit, Bill, but I lost some fundamentals along the way, and made numerous mistakes, but now look around and have finished a couple books and my wife and I still find each other interesting, and I think she’s funny and our daughter does well and I’m back out doing shows, and what’s not to be grateful for?
GK
Hi, Garrison.
In response to the letter from Sue S., berating you for supposedly no longer caring about what is wrong with today’s world, as an 81-year-old I would say to Sue: “I belong to the ‘What Would You Know, Grandpa’ generation.”
Our generation has had its go at dealing with the world’s problems, and it is now the turn of the generation that follows us. Sure, we can still vote, and we do, but ultimately a younger person will be elected and will have the responsibility to find solutions to today’s challenges!
I could go on and on, but I have much more important things to do now that I’m retired: my mates and I are about to go out and chase a little white dimpled ball along St. Lucia Golf Links and my biggest challenge, which will take me to the end of my days, is to play the best 18 holes ever!!
Will Muskens
While you chase the white dimpled ball, think of us who are chasing the subject and predicate down the epistolary fairway, solo, no partners, and unlike you, we have the illusion of spectators. It’s rather pitiful, don’t you think?
GK
Do you remember once saying that sleeping in the garage does not make you a car?
Never forgot it, seems so fitting today to so many situations …
Peter Knauth
I do. I think the first half was “Going to church does not make you a Christian just as —,” which strikes me now as a little too facile.
GK
Hi, Garrison: In last week’s Post to the Host, Sue S. jumped your “not-my-problem” proclamation and you double-downed on your position. Then a few letters later you rapped Francis O. on the knuckles about the trouble with Republicans. It was a long-way-around-the-barn position statement, but you still have enough anger to care about what’s right. Not bad given the Lutheran tendency to avoid confrontation and eye contact. Keep up the good work — I won’t tell anyone.
Best —
John W. Mitchell, Western Slope, CO
Glad I can trust you, sir, but I have to ask: what’s it like, going around with the name John Mitchell? Are your eyebrows as big as his?
GK
Dear GK,
October Weather and Elitist Art — in Nebraska. I’m afraid you’re going to get a few missives from idle Nebraskan curmudgeons in response to your hint at disdain for their winter weather. Is doesn’t take much to set people off, and some folks are weather-proud. So, if you’re going to be edgy, be ready. I liked your piece on October, which, by the way, is a lovely time of year in Kentucky, too. I will add, although it might pour gas onto flames, that if I’ve ever been in Nebraska, literally, as such, I didn’t notice.
Prominent people from Nebraska include Dick Cavett, Henry Fonda, and Senator George McGovern (okay, South Dakota – same thing). Old George was a B-24 pilot and then an anti-war firebrand, until they talked him into running for President, whereupon he was given “groomers” who advised him that if he’d just shut up and grin like a drooling idiot his chances of getting elected would skyrocket. I’ve heard he even took drooling lessons. Somewhere down in Nebraska.
I think Art has more to do with the pleasure we find in beholding something familiar. And thusly, that simply, the most successful Art makes the beholder feel “smart.” What you’re talking about, elitist art, is art that makes people feel “right.” And there are a lot of right people stomping around knocking over chairs who aren’t smart. And not just in Nebraska.
All the Best,
Cliff Adams, Fort Mitchell, Kentucky
Yes, sir, and thanks for the information. I am going to stay off the subject of Nebraska, but I’ll mention that George McGovern wrote a beautiful book about his daughter Terry and her death from alcoholism, a terribly brave book. I met him once and don’t recall him drooling.
GK
Dear Mr. Keillor,
The first time I went to Tokyo was in September of 1966 and I was sure to go to see the famous Imperial Hotel. Just in time, as it was torn down in 1967. But please tell Sharon Roslund that all was not lost. To quote from Wikipedia: “While most of Wright’s building was destroyed, the iconic central lobby wing and the reflecting pool were disassembled and rebuilt at the Museum Meiji-mura, a collection of buildings (mostly from the Meiji Era) in Inuyama, near Nagoya, where they are open to the public. Because the building structure was brick and concrete and could not be disassembled, as much of the oya stone as possible, tiles, and other finishing materials were preserved. Demolition of the hotel was completed, and materials stored at Meiji-mura by March 1968. A site for the reconstruction was chosen in February 1970, and exterior reconstruction started in March, taking 6 years to complete. Interior reconstruction started in November 1983 after a 7-year pause, and was completed in October 1985, more than 17 years after the demolition.”
The next time (after COVID) I visit Japan, I hope to visit Meiji-mura.
Sincerely,
Ed Totten
Glad to hear about beauty being reassembled and preserved. I was in two very handsome towns of preserved architecture, Sellersville and Jim Thorpe, PA. Unfortunately, in Minnesota, we’re lacking that appreciation, probably due to Lutheran functionalism, and you see so many towns where the big dreams of the founders have been torn down and replaced by boxes. Most Lutheran churches look like warehouses. I talked my grandson out of majoring in English and he’s now studying architecture and I have high hopes for him.
GK
Dear Garrison:
As a champion of the limerick, you will probably find this interesting.
I was listening to the song from Oklahoma!, “Oh What a Beautiful Morning,” and suddenly realized that it’s written in limerick form:
There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow, There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow, The corn is as high as an elephant’s eye, An’ it looks like it’s climbin’ clear up to the sky. The rhyming scheme doesn’t always hold, but the meter does: All the cattle are standing like statues, All the cattle are standing like statues, They don’t turn their heads as they see me ride by, But a little brown mav’rick is winking her eye. The chorus is abbreviated, but it’s close: Oh what a beautiful morning, Oh what a beautiful day, I’ve got a wonderful feeling, Everything’s going my way.
I don’t know if anybody has ever noticed this before, but I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t read your limericks book! What do you think?
Peter M.
Thanks for pointing this out. It doesn’t feel like a limerick when you sing it, maybe because the last line has an extra beat, but I’m sure Hammerstein didn’t want people to hear it as a limerick and expect the cattle would be from Nantucket.
GK
Garrison:
I just read “Got the Autumn Blues” and I’m disappointed that you’ve come to have such negative feelings about Thanksgiving and the turkey. I still remember fondly those family Thanksgiving dinners at my sister’s, the table groaning with more than two dozen dishes.
Bob Buntrock, Orono, ME
My Portuguese niece is in charge of Thanksgiving this year and I told her, “Whatever you do to the turkey will be an improvement.” I’m looking forward to what she does.
GK
Dear Mr. Keillor,
As I began reading this column, I thought, “Shouldn’t he take Milk of Magnesia for this??” Then you took us on a bus trip and life became glorious again. Thank you.
However, turkeys deserve better. They have been bred out of their gourds, may as well smother them in gravy and wear elastic-waist pants for a day. The punkin (not pumpkin) pie is always perfect. And I am fortunate enough to be part of a family that never thought that college athletic departments created Thanksgiving.
So give thanks, and stay loose.
Judy Schwender
Judy, I’m sure you’re right. Glad your people make a good pumpkin pie, punkin, but I still think mediocre is the best one can expect. Maybe I’m not putting enough whipping cream on it. I love the squash, though. And am grateful for it.
GK
People in my parents’ generation seemed more “diverse” and mature (born 1900 or so) than my age group (1935 or so) judging by alum newsletters I read.
Probably the result of the growth of human leash laws …
Liked your pig observations …
Kathleen Casey
My family is diversifying as we speak. A nephew in Saigon who married a Vietnamese lawyer is now the papa of twin girls, and another nephew has married a Portuguese woman, and another nephew has become Episcopalian. Things are looking up.
GK
In your post about the Autumn blues, you lamented how the Arts organizations, which celebrate the extraordinary among us, feel compelled to declare their dedication to Equality and Inclusivity and Anti-Elitism. It reminded me of an episode of The Twilight Zone I saw as a kid. In the name of keeping everyone equal, the ballet was a bunch of people, some weighted I believe, stomping around and leaping maybe an inch off the ground. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
Leslie Ritchie
Mission statements do not create art, so we shall see what happens. Art is hard work requiring talent and discipline and great good luck, and any fool can declare a mission of universality or goodness or graciousness.
GK
Dear GK,
I have recently read [Jonathan] Coe’s Mr Wilder & Me. Even more recently I read one of your chronicles. Now, why don’t you write a novel about someone who at some point in history meets you, so that you can still, perhaps, write your memoir to correct whatever got misinterpreted in the novel? I would for sure read it (probably both, but not mentioning in what order). This could be an alternative route to never ending work, where you alternately describe (and quarrel about the interpretation of) yourself.
You have reached a position where your creativity and personality are as interesting as your creations. It’s admirable and inspirational.
Thank you!
Andrew
I’m not that interesting, Andrew, and I’m not that interested in trying to make myself interesting. I can be interesting for about two hours in front of an audience and after that, the audience is jingling the car keys.
GK
GK,
I have to ask why you live in New York? I’m a Minnesotan and think of you as one and it pains me that you’re hanging out with those people.
Merlin
I live in New York because my wife loves it there though she’s from Minnesota, as I am. She went to the city when she was 17 to be a classical violinist and you become a New Yorker by learning how to be poor there, which being a violinist guarantees. I don’t have the social skills to make new friends so I’m a loner in New York, which is good for a writer, whereas in Minneapolis I’m surrounded by family and old friends and memories and so forth and it’s too comfortable and also distracting. I spend a few months a year in Minneapolis and love my time there, but at my age you start to be an alien in the world and it’s painful to be an alien in Minnesota and to find the West River Road blocked off to Anoka and to get lost downtown on your way to Nicollet Island and to read about the violent crime in quiet neighborhoods of little bungalows. Dinkytown is gone, the one I remember, and the warehouse district isn’t what it was and Munsingwear is now condos and the airport is so enormous I get lost in it and I miss the old library on 10th & Hennepin –– how could they tear it down to make a parking lot? Dudley Riggs is gone, Marv Davidoff, Arvonne Fraser, and the trio Koerner, Glover & Ray. I don’t notice change in New York but I feel it painfully in Minnesota so I feel 30ish in Manhattan and 90ish in Minneapolis. And right there is the answer to your question.
GK
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Dear Mr. K, now that I've finished my spit take and cleaned my coffee off the iMac monitor, Peter M's comment re: the limericks found in Oh What A Beautiful Morning has now (in a good way, really) ruined the song for me. Much as a random comment I read years ago that most Emily Dickinson poems can be sung to the tune of The Yellow Rose Of Texas. Is nothing sacred any more?
Your comment about your lack of sentimentality about your "stuff" probably accurately reflects your personal position. However, on the other side of the (radio) fence, there are millions of us, your faithful listeners, who have collected memories on our neurons, memories that are more indelible than those on paper! Was it Carl Krebsbach, for example, who drove off from a gas station without checking to see whether his wife was in the car or not? Priceless! And how about the time a tow truck with a car that had been used as a cistern got mixed in with the town parade? Or what's the name of that girl who played basketball, came onto the court and shot hoops like a pro? There must be a thousand times, at the very least, when I've seen something in everyday life, and heard a segment of APHC in my mind! The small town images that burst out of your fruitful mind are indelible - and they'll probably exist as long as we, your audience live on! Perhaps there's not an active "Paper Trail", but the Neuronal Trail is alive, well, and, well, at least somewhat intact! Viva APHC!