when I read the article I came across Krameczuk's and googled, it, still there. When I saw the guy playin the piano photo I clicked and expected to hear Chopin. Nope.
I liked your column. Next time I read it Ill google Chopin. At least give me the (Kerkel?) of your fav if you dont link it
Yes. I, too, have noticed I prefer silence. When doing jigsaw puzzles in these January blizzardy days, I used to have music playing but now have found silence is best. I discovered it’s another form of meditation and being in the moment. So true, Garrison.
This column makes me understand why people like to be left alone first thing in the morning -- while their dreams evaporate and inspiration, or at least plans for the day, come in.
So that explains it! We used to have the radio on pretty often, but when my father-in-law moved in, he made it pretty clear that background music drives him nuts, so now we live in a silent house. I've learned to appreciate the peace and quiet, but I listen to the radio when I'm by myself in the car because rock music is very good at covering up my tinnitus. I'm pretty much used to the constant ringing by now, but it's nice to get a break from it once in a while. The tinnitus apparently causes earworms (the phenomenon of music playing in one's head) - my doctor's explained that it's my brain's attempt to make sense of the tinnitus. It's pretty constant, too, but I can usually convince my brain to at least change the sound track by thinking about a song that I *do* like. Actually listening to a different song doesn't seem to help, it has to be all in my head, so to speak.
Wow. I never thought of the old Oscar Meyer jingle as an ode to cannibalism before, but now that you've mentioned it....
The creative silence of morning is sacred, as was the joyous song of GK’s show last night at the Ryman. We’re so impressed by the stamina of an 81-year-old who can keep us up past our bedtime with a nearly 3-hour show. And he led us in song right through the intermission. The meanderingly silly Lake Wobegon monolog concluded with a heartfelt thanks to “friends, not fans”… a joyful night out, “miserable” wooden pews notwithstanding. Thank you, GK.
The music of the spheres come together in harmonies disparate and beautiful; accept that as a gift and don't ask from where it comes. The correct response can only be appreciation. Thank you for this dish, Garrison.
Brilliant! Spot on. Keep it up-I think you have a future!
Silence is a treasure, a misunderstood gem in this sound-crazed world.
Sung to the tune of the other Oscar Meyer jingle:
My fav writer has a first name
It Ga-rri-son,
My fav writer has a second name
It’s Kei-ll-or,
I read or listen everyday
And if you ask my why I’ll say,
‘Cause Garrison Keillor has a way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a.
Affectionately yours, JJ
when I read the article I came across Krameczuk's and googled, it, still there. When I saw the guy playin the piano photo I clicked and expected to hear Chopin. Nope.
I liked your column. Next time I read it Ill google Chopin. At least give me the (Kerkel?) of your fav if you dont link it
I have my classical music station on 24/7 and wake up with a song in my head every morning...this morning it was "Born to Be Blue" !
Yes. I, too, have noticed I prefer silence. When doing jigsaw puzzles in these January blizzardy days, I used to have music playing but now have found silence is best. I discovered it’s another form of meditation and being in the moment. So true, Garrison.
Autumn, 1996:
My housemate arrived home, and saw me joyfully painting our interior walls in heavenly silence.
He was bewildered that I wasn't playing music. I recall telling him what I think about, and that it's the same zen-like feeling when I walk my dog.
He proceeded to fill the 5-cd player with my favorites; when he left, I turned it off.
With all due respect to your significant other and Kramarczuk's brats - I mean they are all that, but nothing is better than a Chopin etude.
Just lovely. I have a practice of silence, too.
Awesome. "..her laughter is priceless to me, better than a Chopin étude."
We are blessed to read you sir, you are a wonder.
This column makes me understand why people like to be left alone first thing in the morning -- while their dreams evaporate and inspiration, or at least plans for the day, come in.
So that explains it! We used to have the radio on pretty often, but when my father-in-law moved in, he made it pretty clear that background music drives him nuts, so now we live in a silent house. I've learned to appreciate the peace and quiet, but I listen to the radio when I'm by myself in the car because rock music is very good at covering up my tinnitus. I'm pretty much used to the constant ringing by now, but it's nice to get a break from it once in a while. The tinnitus apparently causes earworms (the phenomenon of music playing in one's head) - my doctor's explained that it's my brain's attempt to make sense of the tinnitus. It's pretty constant, too, but I can usually convince my brain to at least change the sound track by thinking about a song that I *do* like. Actually listening to a different song doesn't seem to help, it has to be all in my head, so to speak.
Wow. I never thought of the old Oscar Meyer jingle as an ode to cannibalism before, but now that you've mentioned it....
Silence is wonderful to me, too, Garrison. I love your ode to it.
The creative silence of morning is sacred, as was the joyous song of GK’s show last night at the Ryman. We’re so impressed by the stamina of an 81-year-old who can keep us up past our bedtime with a nearly 3-hour show. And he led us in song right through the intermission. The meanderingly silly Lake Wobegon monolog concluded with a heartfelt thanks to “friends, not fans”… a joyful night out, “miserable” wooden pews notwithstanding. Thank you, GK.
The music of the spheres come together in harmonies disparate and beautiful; accept that as a gift and don't ask from where it comes. The correct response can only be appreciation. Thank you for this dish, Garrison.
Beware the Madelines, they are nowhere near our just desserts for all you have done.
Homemade is the question and my sweetest's sweet rolls are the most heavenly answer on this earth; If joy is to come, it won't be from a bratwurst.
Ever wonder why the brat has double meaning? One in the brat holder and one that can't br held at all.