Post to the Host

Comments from the week of June 18

Hey G,

In my early retirement, I have taken to driving a transit bus in my rural little town in Michigan. I do it because I always, and I do mean ALWAYS, feel better inside about everything while I am driving that bus and immediately after. 

I recently read that the desire to help others resides in the hypothalamus part of the brain. And the stronger a human’s drive to do for others, generally the larger their hypothalamus. I choose to believe it, and these are not big things I’m talking about. It’s mostly a kind word, a smile, taking their groceries to the door.

I have a rather large head, a bit like yours, Garrison, and I want to postulate here that perhaps we have big hypothalamuses!!! Cold hands, warm heart, big hypothalamus.

Big Head,

D

You believe what you want to believe but I hold to the idea of big-headedness that I grew up with, meaning a big ego, arrogance, a large sense of self-importance. A person who goes on the radio has to have some of that but you need to watch yourself carefully, so I regularly make myself feel bad by recalling the stupidest things I’ve done, and there’s plenty to remember. I believe in kindness, try to practice it, but now and then I beat myself up too. GK

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Garrison,

I recall that you were unhappy with the ending of your book A Christmas Blizzard and rewrote the ending after publication.

How can we tell which ending the book we have is the final version? Also, did you ever rerecord the audiobook version with the changes?

Martin Henner

I revised it for the paperback edition. I didn’t rerecord the audio. GK

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GK,

You’ve probably received enough mail about nonbinary by now, but in the unlikely case that no one else has mentioned it, most of us were raised to think it rude to address anyone in the room in the third person. I address my nonbinary elder child as “You,” and she is delighted to hear that every now and then her younger, protective brother occasionally needs to remind their aging dad when, by habit, he slips up and refers to them as “She” or “Her.” I think they are just as delighted at the old man’s error as the correction that follows. (OK, that was ambiguous, but I’m keeping it just as it was.) 

I still puzzle over auxiliary usages, such as themself/themselves. Maybe better usage will come along someday. One thing I know for sure: grammar has rarely led usage for long; it’s always been the other way around. Kind of like rules in the Bible.

Neal Steiger

My copy editor Ms. Beck does not accept that grammar inevitably follows usage and while I want to agree with you, I don’t. She is fighting the good fight. Good for her. I just dither along trying to stay out of trouble. GK

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GK,

Re: “When I go to a restaurant, I miss that appetizer tray that the waiter (long ago) brought to the table, with celery, radishes, and deviled eggs. Somewhere there is a café that still does this and it’s probably in Iowa or Kansas and I hope to find it.”

You’re looking for The Redwood Steak House, Anita, Iowa, halfway between Des Moines and Council Bluffs on the Nishnabotna River. Their appetizer tray is legendary, in Iowa anyhow.

Monday blessings!

Pax,

Jeff Gill

Good to know. I don’t know when I’ll be heading that way, but I’ll keep it in mind. GK

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Dear GK,

I hate to be picky (please forgive the pun) when speaking of noses, but I’m not familiar with the word “noseful.” Maybe it means something special in rural Minnesota? Or maybe you meant “nose full”? No matter. ’Twas a cheerful essay about Kleenex and wives and their abiding value in our latter years.

Thanks,
Scott Taylor

It’s a made-up word, I guess, for a situation that grown-ups prefer not to talk about. And I am not planning to talk about it again. GK

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Hi, Garrison.

My name is Jennifer and in the early 1980s I worked at MPR in the executive offices, the desk on the right when you walked in the door. My name was Pearl (horribly unsuitable birth name, you know what that’s like). I also worked as an usher at APHC, the best part-time job I ever had.

I’m not asking you to remember me, too much has happened since then.

I’m writing because I want to say THANK YOU for always being so nice to me. You were a gentleman, kind, respectful and friendly both in person and on the phone when you’d try to get ahold of Bill and got me instead.

My best to you and your family. Thanks again for always being so kind to me.

Jennifer

I’m touched that you remember me this way. Things changed, I think, when the show got busier and busier, and I became isolated, locked in a little office, writing, trying to do too much, flying hither and yon. APHC left the MPR building and went off to another part of St. Paul and I worry about those old colleagues and how they look back on those days. I never was a good team player, never had the experience, lacked the patience. But some good work got done and I hope that some of it endures. GK

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Mr. GK,

So my husband’s mom died, 92, and we gave her a grand send-off over the course of several days last week. All the kids and grandkids (except one, an autistic teen for whom the hustle and bustle would have been overwhelming) and great grandkids came from all over the country. My daughter brought her two little daughters from a distant state. It was a great family reunion of a loving family after many years of separation. The deceased would have loved it.

We gathered mostly at my house as Mom was buried with her predeceased veteran husband at Ft. Snelling National Cemetery in Minneapolis and my house is the only family residence left in the area. It was a bit of effort to organize on my part, and one moment, when I had settled for a few minutes in a comfy chair, my five-year-old granddaughter came up to me and, in her young, sweet voice, sang to me the lullaby I have often sung to her, her sister, and their mom in the past, All The Pretty Little Horses. I didn’t know she even knew the words. It was a moment of pure delight, pure grace. It brought me to tears, this child’s way of offering comfort, and it worked. I felt greatly comforted. I’ve been singing lullabies to myself ever since.

I’ve been wondering what kinds of songs people sing, sang, or were sung to that offered comfort. Were you, a singer, sung to as a baby, Mr. GK? Did you sing a baby to sleep?

Best to you,
JFL

I was the third in a family of six kids and I don’t recall being sung to sleep. We tore around all day and got exhausted and sleep came quickly. I sang the Beatles’ In My Life to my daughter and sometimes It Is Well With My Soul and when we went out walking, we sang, I Want To Hold Your Hand, which she still remembers at age 25. That’s a beautiful scene you describe, a five-year-old singing that song about the blacks and grays, dapple and bays, coach and six little horses. I would’ve wept too. GK

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Hello, Garrison.

Just writing to wish you a happy Summer Solstice, and wondering if you and your wife — she being of Scandinavian descent — will be doing anything special for Midsummer (Midsommar) this weekend? And also wondering, if you are in town, will you be checking out the Pride Parade on Sunday? We will be there to get our glitter fix. I find that the crazier this world gets, the more glitter I need. 

Happy Solstice! And “Glad Midsommar!”

T. Hartford

I was doing a show in Peekskill that day and having a fine time and not thinking about Midsummer. Back when I lived in Denmark, it was a big day, dinner outdoors at someone’s farm, a big bonfire, and a straw witch was burned, and they sang all the songs they knew by heart. We haven’t tried to replicate that. GK

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GK,

Twenty years ago, I bought a ’95 red Honda Civic Fastback from W.S. Merwin. He decided to sell the car because it was his doggy mobile and his two beloved chow dogs had passed way. When he drove it, it brought back sad memories. What a fine automobile! Although the radio burned out on the first day I bought it, the mystique of Merwin remained in the car and served as a muse for my poetry writing. After a few years of driving the auto, the groundskeeper at the Merwin Palm Sanctuary told me that he had seen Garrison Keillor riding around with W.S. Merwin in the car. Could you confirm this for me? The car is long gone as is William. But you can confirm this fact or fiction ...

Thanks,
James

I flew over to Maui and visited the Merwins at their palm plantation and was greatly impressed by the forest they created on a desert-like tract of former pineapple farm, and by the simple green cottage where they lived. He was a sweet man and I’m still engrossed by his poetry, which I take a little at a time. He was a very happy writer. I don’t recall that car but maybe he drove us from town to his forest in it. I wish I’d known him better. GK

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GK,

For a relish tray, I recommend Archie’s Waeside, a steakhouse in Le Mars, Iowa. You won’t get any deviled eggs, but you’ll get cubes of Velveeta cheese in their stead.

If you’re in town, you can also get some ice cream, as Le Mars is the home of (Wells) Blue Bunny and claims to be the “Ice Cream Capital of the World.” It’s good stuff. In my childhood (way back in the ’70s), the Wells Dairy delivery man used to walk into our unlocked home and put our milk order right in our refrigerator. It was a different time.

If you’re anywhere in the Sioux Falls/Sioux City/Omaha area, it’s worth the little detour.

Happy hunting.

Blair

I don’t think I’ll travel all that way for cubes of Velveeta, and my wife is cutting back on my steak allotment, and also my ice-cream quota, so I think Le Mars is out of my league. Sorry. GK

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GK,

As Mark Twain said, “To do good is noble. To tell others to do good is even nobler and much less trouble.” He also said that the secret of success is ignorance and confidence, the two combined are unbeatable.

Did he really say these? If he didn’t, he should have!

Elizabeth Block

Toronto, Canada

Yes, he did. GK

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