I picked potatoes as a kid in Maine. They use potato-pick in’ baskets and then we dumped them into barrels which hold I have no idea how many pounds,,but a lot. They would close schools during the season and everyone worked including the teachers. If the season ran long it would continue on a day to day basis. If it rained, we went to school. If it was a good day for picking we worked. The radio would tell us in the morning what we’d be doing that day.
No, not any more. They might have a few days off but the large potato harvesters do the work. It was a cultural adjustment, though, because everyone liked being able to earn extra money for school clothes.
I’ve never picked potatoes but love to eat them. I appreciate potato pickers. I was a teacher for 33 years and at times that was grueling. I really appreciate the stories and your tenderness and humor. You are all of us. Please keep on, Mr. Keillor.
When I lived in New York and fell down the stairs in the subway, the kindness of all who I encountered defied the myth of uncaring New Yorkers. Glad to see this tradition continues...thanks for sharing.
Good morning, Garrison: Looks like many of us responders are past potato pickers. Never-the-less, your lack of the political within your performance strikes a nerve for me because I've just learned to keep totally away of that realm here on social media. Just had my hat handed to me by the other side that seem overwhelmed in this world of lying. So, prayer is now my tool to save the world, or at least me. rr
You’ve brightened my day, Mr. Keillor, and gently restored my faith in humanity. In the new movie “White Bird” with Helen Mirren, the members of the French Resistance in WWII say, “Vive l’humanité!” They say it in defiance in the face of unspeakable evils. It’s a good thing to say, I think.
I love your potato picking story...mine was picking cotton...I could not get out of that field fast enough and decided to be an environmental engineer...it pays much better than that $1.08 I got for picking cotton all day with the pay based on weight...I was not very good at it...or at spelling...have a wonderful day and know you are loved and appreciated by all of us who have followed you over all these years...
My dad and his two brothers both picked cotton in Greenville, TX, in the mid/late 1920's. One of my uncles became a highly respected authority on cotton farming and taught university classes in Arkansas. Grueling work.
Through much of the cotton belt by the '60s, hand picking of cotton had been replaced by machine picking. A combine was modified to have vertical rotating combs which raked the cotton ("lint") out of the ripe bolls leaving the plant and green bolls intact for future pickings, as many as 2-3 in all. I know this because this Midwesterner was doing research om agricultural chemicals and my company in PA had developed a cotton harvest aid which caused the leaves to wilt but stay green preserving growth but allowing for pickings to be made without chlorophyl staining or dry leaf "trash". Although not on the project, I got "drafted" in '67 to go to Mississippi to supervise the picking of test plots that had used our product. Quite the experience, learned a lot about cotton, and ate a lot of catfish, hush puppies, and pecan pie (along with newly legalized beer).
I did see cotton being hand-picked in the '90s whole coming back from Texas to suburban Chicago in the Missouri boot-heel by New Madrid (home of the 3 largest earthquakes to hit the continental US in historic times). I do appreciate the backbreaking labor that picking any plant product entails.
I’m sorry for myself, and ashamed I missed your concert on Whidbey Island which is quite close to where I live. I missed the news about you being there, most likely because of paying too much attention to the political news. I hope you come back. By the way, we have great venue space in Port Townsend, not to mention most of us are around your age. I am sure I’ve heard every show you did on NPR but I just ordered the Boxed Set. I was just realizing how valuable listening to A Prairie Home Companion will be as I age. The laughter, the songs, the stories will ignite the synapses. Thank you Mr. Keillor for your contribution to our great country. God Bless America!
I am glad that New York City folks have changed. Civiized is not a term I woud have used to describe folks from New York City when I visited their town, or when they were visiting my small tourist town to the north. Let me explain my experiences.
I spent 25 years in a small Adirondack Mountain tourist town, and during that time, I visited New York City three times. I am a country person. When approaching somebody I make eye contact, and frequently make positive gestures such as a smile, or sometimes I say hello. During all of my visits to New York City, I found folks to be in a hurry, they avoided contact, and I was taken aback by how they ignored homeless people on the sidewalk. They struck me as cold, impersonal, and very self-absorbed. Now I had never seen anyone in distress, considering homeless people sitting on the sidewalks not in stress, but maybe folks would have assisted others as you describe, if needed.
As I said, I lived in a very small Adirondack Mountain town that would triple in size during tourist season, which was from June to August. Those not earning their living from tourism would tolerate tourists so that their neighbors could earn a living.
I was taught that when I was a visitor in a place to treat locals with utmost respect. Be courteous, ask politely, try to learn and emulate local customs, etc. When folks from New York City came to our local town their behavior was amazingly consistent. They were rude, demanding, assuming, and just basically disrespectful. They basically treated locals as inferiors, folks that were there to serve them. As a population, just really selfish people.
But about seven years ago, I moved South from the Adirondack Mountains. I am glad to hear that folks from New York City have changed. And for that, I am greatful.
If I walked down Broadway day or night and smiled at each person individually, it'd look and feel weird. I enjoy the flow. If someone says hello, it means they know me and we stop and talk. If I collapsed four or five people would be right there, trying to help. Otherwise I enjoy the sights and sounds and motion. I don't trust your description of New Yorkers as selfish and rude, but that's not my problem.
Points well taken, and perhaps I am guilty of two things.
One, making assumptions about populations based upon only 3 visits. Not a very big sample size and I should have visited more before drawing conclusions.
Secondly, and more importantly, I think I am guilty of not understanding the culture of New York City. When traveling to NYC, I should really try to understand their culture, and try to fit in. It is likely my very open and friendly personality is inappropriate in NYC. But I would like to think I am capable of learning.
That being said, do you have any commentary regarding what appears to be selfish and rude behaviors from New York City folks when they go to the Lake George region for vacation?
Regardless, stay healthy, remain positive, and I can't wait to sing Christmas Carols with the semi-diverse crowd (more younger people would be better....) in Galveston later this year.
Potatoes, and "pulling chickens", a euphemism for taking half dead egg layers and shoving them in a crate that was going to the Campbell's Soup factory.
I spend time in China. I watched a kid run in front of a car and get hammered. I rushed over, stopped traffic, and helped the kid. No one so much as lifted a finger to dial the Chinese version of 9-1-1. I started screaming at people to call an ambulance. Someone eventually did, while everyone else looked on wondering why the laowai was helping or just continued walking. Even the kid just looked at me as she was being wheeled away like she didn't care I got involved.
As always, thanks Garrison for your posting(s), as you continue to hit straight on truths and wise comments we all need now, as things seem to be going sideways. (And New Yorkers, I've found, are the quickest/kindest people to offer assistance, give directions, just like you mention!)
Another gem. "It's a good show. I like it myself. . ." If only my clients felt that way about themselves the world would be oh, so much happier. Carry on, kid!!
I believe your shows serve a multitude of purposes, not the least of which is that they are live performances-no reliance on a screen to be entertained!
That may be considered a throwback to another time, but trust me Garrison, you still are useful! Your shows give us a reason to come together, sing from memory and be reminded that while technology may be convenient, it is our humanity that we crave.
Mr. Keiller‘s flight of fancy about plaster at the end there, reminded me of the early days of answering machines, when one had to fill 30 seconds, no more no less. I admit I used a thesaurus to produce:
“Hello, my sweet, I think it’s neat that you have called today. But as you see, this isn’t me, for I’m just now away. But I shall return, and I yearn and burn to learn your name and number. This machine, so nifty keen, will take it, what a wonder! If you wait for the tone at the end of the poem, you’ll find message space that’s vaster than the plaster caster on your bandmaster’s alabaster pillaster. BEEP
I picked potatoes as a kid in Maine. They use potato-pick in’ baskets and then we dumped them into barrels which hold I have no idea how many pounds,,but a lot. They would close schools during the season and everyone worked including the teachers. If the season ran long it would continue on a day to day basis. If it rained, we went to school. If it was a good day for picking we worked. The radio would tell us in the morning what we’d be doing that day.
Amazing story. I wonder if the farms still work this way.
No, not any more. They might have a few days off but the large potato harvesters do the work. It was a cultural adjustment, though, because everyone liked being able to earn extra money for school clothes.
I’ve never picked potatoes but love to eat them. I appreciate potato pickers. I was a teacher for 33 years and at times that was grueling. I really appreciate the stories and your tenderness and humor. You are all of us. Please keep on, Mr. Keillor.
Yes we are in our better moments...that's why they call us civil-ians.
When I lived in New York and fell down the stairs in the subway, the kindness of all who I encountered defied the myth of uncaring New Yorkers. Glad to see this tradition continues...thanks for sharing.
Whenever I see a Trump sign, I recite all those words that rhyme. Dump, bump, thump, lump etc. Makes me feel better. I especially like "dump."
How did you miss rump?
Good morning, Garrison: Looks like many of us responders are past potato pickers. Never-the-less, your lack of the political within your performance strikes a nerve for me because I've just learned to keep totally away of that realm here on social media. Just had my hat handed to me by the other side that seem overwhelmed in this world of lying. So, prayer is now my tool to save the world, or at least me. rr
You’ve brightened my day, Mr. Keillor, and gently restored my faith in humanity. In the new movie “White Bird” with Helen Mirren, the members of the French Resistance in WWII say, “Vive l’humanité!” They say it in defiance in the face of unspeakable evils. It’s a good thing to say, I think.
It's a good thing to write about too. https://themjkxn.substack.com/p/be-kind
I love your potato picking story...mine was picking cotton...I could not get out of that field fast enough and decided to be an environmental engineer...it pays much better than that $1.08 I got for picking cotton all day with the pay based on weight...I was not very good at it...or at spelling...have a wonderful day and know you are loved and appreciated by all of us who have followed you over all these years...
My dad and his two brothers both picked cotton in Greenville, TX, in the mid/late 1920's. One of my uncles became a highly respected authority on cotton farming and taught university classes in Arkansas. Grueling work.
Through much of the cotton belt by the '60s, hand picking of cotton had been replaced by machine picking. A combine was modified to have vertical rotating combs which raked the cotton ("lint") out of the ripe bolls leaving the plant and green bolls intact for future pickings, as many as 2-3 in all. I know this because this Midwesterner was doing research om agricultural chemicals and my company in PA had developed a cotton harvest aid which caused the leaves to wilt but stay green preserving growth but allowing for pickings to be made without chlorophyl staining or dry leaf "trash". Although not on the project, I got "drafted" in '67 to go to Mississippi to supervise the picking of test plots that had used our product. Quite the experience, learned a lot about cotton, and ate a lot of catfish, hush puppies, and pecan pie (along with newly legalized beer).
I did see cotton being hand-picked in the '90s whole coming back from Texas to suburban Chicago in the Missouri boot-heel by New Madrid (home of the 3 largest earthquakes to hit the continental US in historic times). I do appreciate the backbreaking labor that picking any plant product entails.
I’m sorry for myself, and ashamed I missed your concert on Whidbey Island which is quite close to where I live. I missed the news about you being there, most likely because of paying too much attention to the political news. I hope you come back. By the way, we have great venue space in Port Townsend, not to mention most of us are around your age. I am sure I’ve heard every show you did on NPR but I just ordered the Boxed Set. I was just realizing how valuable listening to A Prairie Home Companion will be as I age. The laughter, the songs, the stories will ignite the synapses. Thank you Mr. Keillor for your contribution to our great country. God Bless America!
No apology, no shame. Had a fine time and now it's off to Dublin. The road continues.
I am glad that New York City folks have changed. Civiized is not a term I woud have used to describe folks from New York City when I visited their town, or when they were visiting my small tourist town to the north. Let me explain my experiences.
I spent 25 years in a small Adirondack Mountain tourist town, and during that time, I visited New York City three times. I am a country person. When approaching somebody I make eye contact, and frequently make positive gestures such as a smile, or sometimes I say hello. During all of my visits to New York City, I found folks to be in a hurry, they avoided contact, and I was taken aback by how they ignored homeless people on the sidewalk. They struck me as cold, impersonal, and very self-absorbed. Now I had never seen anyone in distress, considering homeless people sitting on the sidewalks not in stress, but maybe folks would have assisted others as you describe, if needed.
As I said, I lived in a very small Adirondack Mountain town that would triple in size during tourist season, which was from June to August. Those not earning their living from tourism would tolerate tourists so that their neighbors could earn a living.
I was taught that when I was a visitor in a place to treat locals with utmost respect. Be courteous, ask politely, try to learn and emulate local customs, etc. When folks from New York City came to our local town their behavior was amazingly consistent. They were rude, demanding, assuming, and just basically disrespectful. They basically treated locals as inferiors, folks that were there to serve them. As a population, just really selfish people.
But about seven years ago, I moved South from the Adirondack Mountains. I am glad to hear that folks from New York City have changed. And for that, I am greatful.
See you in Galveston!!!!
If I walked down Broadway day or night and smiled at each person individually, it'd look and feel weird. I enjoy the flow. If someone says hello, it means they know me and we stop and talk. If I collapsed four or five people would be right there, trying to help. Otherwise I enjoy the sights and sounds and motion. I don't trust your description of New Yorkers as selfish and rude, but that's not my problem.
Points well taken, and perhaps I am guilty of two things.
One, making assumptions about populations based upon only 3 visits. Not a very big sample size and I should have visited more before drawing conclusions.
Secondly, and more importantly, I think I am guilty of not understanding the culture of New York City. When traveling to NYC, I should really try to understand their culture, and try to fit in. It is likely my very open and friendly personality is inappropriate in NYC. But I would like to think I am capable of learning.
That being said, do you have any commentary regarding what appears to be selfish and rude behaviors from New York City folks when they go to the Lake George region for vacation?
Regardless, stay healthy, remain positive, and I can't wait to sing Christmas Carols with the semi-diverse crowd (more younger people would be better....) in Galveston later this year.
Potatoes, and "pulling chickens", a euphemism for taking half dead egg layers and shoving them in a crate that was going to the Campbell's Soup factory.
I spend time in China. I watched a kid run in front of a car and get hammered. I rushed over, stopped traffic, and helped the kid. No one so much as lifted a finger to dial the Chinese version of 9-1-1. I started screaming at people to call an ambulance. Someone eventually did, while everyone else looked on wondering why the laowai was helping or just continued walking. Even the kid just looked at me as she was being wheeled away like she didn't care I got involved.
It was educational.
I am always impressed when you comment on doing a 90 minute show "off book."
I sang yesterday with around 10 women and 1 man at a retirement place. Everyone sang,
and that really felt great to me. BUT I had on paper all the words to most of the songs we were singing!
I needed that.
As always, thanks Garrison for your posting(s), as you continue to hit straight on truths and wise comments we all need now, as things seem to be going sideways. (And New Yorkers, I've found, are the quickest/kindest people to offer assistance, give directions, just like you mention!)
Another gem. "It's a good show. I like it myself. . ." If only my clients felt that way about themselves the world would be oh, so much happier. Carry on, kid!!
I believe your shows serve a multitude of purposes, not the least of which is that they are live performances-no reliance on a screen to be entertained!
That may be considered a throwback to another time, but trust me Garrison, you still are useful! Your shows give us a reason to come together, sing from memory and be reminded that while technology may be convenient, it is our humanity that we crave.
Mr. Keiller‘s flight of fancy about plaster at the end there, reminded me of the early days of answering machines, when one had to fill 30 seconds, no more no less. I admit I used a thesaurus to produce:
“Hello, my sweet, I think it’s neat that you have called today. But as you see, this isn’t me, for I’m just now away. But I shall return, and I yearn and burn to learn your name and number. This machine, so nifty keen, will take it, what a wonder! If you wait for the tone at the end of the poem, you’ll find message space that’s vaster than the plaster caster on your bandmaster’s alabaster pillaster. BEEP
...that was related, somehow, to limericks....
Ms. McComb, I laffed as hard as that as I did on GK's whole spiel!! Harder, maybe....