Post to the Host

Comments from the week of 04.14.24

Garrison,

New York City had a 90% partial eclipse on April 8th, and the difference between a partial and a total solar eclipse is, as they say, the difference between night and day. Had you been in the path of totality, I daresay not only that you may not have been disappointed, but that you may not even have needed a nap afterward. Although I share your enthusiasm for them.

Best, 

Jim M. 

My mistake was craning my neck to look directly up at the eclipse. I should have lain down on my back. But I’m glad that others were euphoric. GK

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Mr. Keillor,

I’ve been reading your weekly columns for some time now, and so many of them carry this theme: to find joy when you can, and recognize it for what it is, in the moment you’re having it. I’ve recently found joy in eating dates, the rush of endorphins hits me so hard I feel my salivary glands practically cramp with joy and I stagger back like a cartoon.

I’ve heard your voice for years. I’ve seen you live once when I sang with you and the rest of the audience all the way through intermission. I appreciate how you’ve helped me recognize the moments of joy and happiness in my life.

From one English Major to another,
Rachael VanWormer

I’m an old man, some would say outdated, but back in 1992 I had a lunch date with the younger sister of a classmate of my younger sister and I married her and she has brought dates and figs into my life and much more. Glad you like them too. GK

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GK,

I’m sitting here listening to Songs of the Cat and just need to thank you for this perfect album. I’m 39, my dad introduced me to your work in the early ’90s, and your words still resonate so deeply. Thank you for the works you created, and the soundtrack you wrote for my childhood memories.

Hayley May Ditcham

That album grew out of my experience with two cats, Tuna and Ralph, in a house on Goodrich & Dale in St. Paul, and it also led to a book called Cat, You Better Come Home, which I think I could still recite from memory. The soundtrack of my childhood memories were the songs we sang from our American Harmony songbook in the 3^rd and 4^th grade, including the murder ballad “Frankie and Johnny” and “The E-ri-e Canal” when we kids sang “The gin is getting low and I scarcely think we’ll get a drink ’fore we come to Buffalo.” Those were innocent times in America, kid. GK

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Sir,

Many years ago I caught a show of yours during the Rhubarb Tour. I observed to you were dropping your script pages after you had read the dialogue on that page.

My question of you is this: do you pick up after yourself after the show ends?

Thank you,

Matt King

I could, of course, pick up after myself but it’d be rude to do it with an audience watching, bend over and turn my rear end to them, and by the time the audience has left the hall, the stage crew has cleared the stage of everything — microphones, music stands, the bandstand, and the trash. But it’s perceptive of you to wonder about this. These days I don’t use paper scripts, I like teleprompters, which let me see the dialogue out of the corner of my eye and still improvise around it. The stage manager is responsible for the teleprompter; they don’t let me touch any electronic gear. GK

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Dear Mr. Keillor,

I am writing to you regarding your Substack column of 4.15.24 titled “A morning walk along Columbus Avenue” in which you remember your first-grade teacher Estelle Shaver.

I have a great aunt named Estelle who was teacher in Anoka that we believe may have been the same Estelle from your grade school days. Except the family name is spelled Shavor with an “o” instead of an “e.” It is of Slovenian origin. We think it was spelled “Šavor” in the old country with a chevron over the S for the SH sound. The family originally settled on the Iron Range in the Eveleth and Ely areas. Estelle was married to George Shavor and they eventually came to live in Falcon Heights, Minnesota.

Might it be that Estelle Shavor is the same teacher from your childhood, but time has blurred memory of the spelling?

Best regards, 

Dean Shavor

St. Paul, Minnesota

Estelle taught first and second grades at Benson School in Brooklyn Park, which was part of the Anoka school system. I started first grade in 1948. She was a saint. I was slow learning to read and she had me stay after school and read aloud to her as she corrected workbooks. She did it under the guise of having me entertain her and when Bill the janitor walked into the classroom, she said, “Listen to this boy, doesn’t he have a wonderful voice, and he reads so well.” This praise is still vivid in my mind all these years later, I remember where I was standing at the time, and how wonderful I felt. God bless her memory. I do think that this gift of hers — reading therapy done so as to make me feel I was doing her a favor — made a difference for that kid. GK

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