Sir: You recently mentioned Taylor Swift in some of your posts — an interesting coincidence: she owns a large house in the Watch Hill section of Westerly, Rhode Island, the same town in which our common ancestor, Samuel Crandall was born in 1663 — my family did not move far from Westerly, just across the Pawcatuck River to Pawcatuck. I’m probably the result of four centuries of inbreeding. Hope to see you again in Connecticut sometime. Steve Barryscott Pawcatuck, Connecticut Good to meet up with a relation and thanks for letting me know about Taylor Swift. I plan to visit Westerly soon and look at the tombstones of Samuel and Elder John and if I should run into Taylor I will avoid eye contact and not say a word and if she walks up to me and says, “I grew up listening to your radio show and I am absolutely awestruck to meet you,” I will treat her as I would any other fan and wish her well and if she asks for an autograph, well, of course, no problem. GK Garrison, I was glad to read in this week’s post that I am not the only reader who is really fond of WLT — A Radio Romance. It has long been my favorite GK book. Thank you for sharing your talent with us for all of these years. Best, I went to school with a Bill Lyke; I wonder if you’re his grandson. This was back in the day before school shootings so during “singing period,” which followed recess, we sang the ballad of Frankie and Johnny, which we loved. Anyway, I’m going to have to find that book of mine and read it. “WLT” — With Lettuce & Tomato, as I recall. GK Dear Mr. Keillor, I have plenty of advice to offer, sir. This very morning, shortly after dawn, I wrote: Say “please” and “thank you” Mind your p’s and q’s Don’t spend a lot on bad food But never buy cheap shoes A stitch in time saves nine Pride goeth before a fall On the other hand, don’t put yourself down Don’t slouch, walk tall It’s usually simpler to tell the truth Time brings all things to light On the other hand, people love stories If it’s fiction, make it fit tight This too shall pass Life is not fair Don’t chew with your mouth open And always wear clean underwear. Be kind to strangers Remember: whatever you do For children you do for the Lord Who will shine His light on you. Speak softly, they’ll listen Insults? Let them pass Anger will likely come back And bite you in the ass Wake up in the morning With a cheerful heart Pretend not to notice If a loved one lets a fart The sun also rises And the stars disappear Be thankful for today And us and this and here I wrote it so fast I didn’t stop to punctuate. GK Your recent experience at Trader Joe’s reminded me of the bartender a few weeks ago who, when she set my drink in front of me, said, “There you go, darlin’,” and I said, “It’s so much nicer to be called darlin’ rather than sir,” and this guy seated within earshot at the bar said, “My mother used to call me honey darling,” and the bartender said, “I think of my mother every day.” Wow. Cheers. Maybe I should take up drinking again. Or maybe not, sir. GK Hello again, Mr. K, from California, where it is still hot. The Grumpy Teen™ and I are both back in school — they are a senior in high school and I teach college students. Grief can be heavy but I feel that it’s meant to be private and not talked about with people who didn’t know the deceased and maybe not with those who did — it’s a conversation that goes nowhere. I still grieve for a suicide almost forty years ago but there’s no point in sharing it. Comedy is our daily business and we need to dedicate ourselves to it. For every gloomy observation there is a witty rejoinder: the key is timing. Timing, timing, timing. GK Garrison, I’ve never been a fan of poetry, though there are a few limericks I enjoy. I do truly admire the poem responses you occasionally make to folks who send you one. Here’s my favorite I have been unable to forget for over 60 years. I think that one is by Anon, sir. I don’t remember writing it. All limericks eventually become anonymous because in such a short form there’s no room for individuality. GK Was wondering “What ever happened to Garrison Keillor?” Now, I know. You are back in Brooklyn. I am close by in Bayonne, New Jersey. I am 76, not far behind. Death is a reality. Always good to hear from Bayonne, though I’m not in Brooklyn; I’m just across the Hudson, and I don’t know what the T.D.S. is but you’re welcome to it. I’m trying to walk with Him but sometimes it’s easier with my eyes closed. GK Dear Garrison, If you were to choose, what would be your favorite two or three movies? I would be grateful to know. Thank you. Take care, Chris I haven’t seen enough movies to make even a short list of favorites. I’ve never gone back to watch a movie a second time whereas I’ve seen “The Marriage of Figaro” four times and look forward to the fifth. In a few months I’m going to force myself to sit down and watch “A Prairie Home Companion,” the Robert Altman movie, because I’ve agreed to be the guest at a public discussion of it in New York and I couldn’t tell you much about it, frankly. I know that Jearlyn Steele sings a song of mine in it and she makes it sound much better than it actually is. GK Hi, Garrison. Too delicious — an English teacher named Miss Story! My high school English teacher was named Mrs. Longauer (yes, pronounced “long hour”), although her class seemed to fly by. I saved a couple of the themes I wrote for her (a favorite assignment was to write a Canterbury Tale of my own). About 40 years later, I saw her obituary in our local paper, and brought one of the themes (with her written comments on it) to give to her daughters at the viewing. All it takes is one memorable teacher … Best, I am going to take that as an assignment, Patricia, a Canterbury Tale set in Lake Wobegon. I can’t wait to perform it in front of a crowd. It’ll be somewhat like the Miller’s Tale, my favorite when I was 17. GK Garrison, In the first paragraph you stated that “the basic cause of lying is stupidity, or arrogance, take your pick.” I respectfully disagree. The basic cause of lying is learning at an early age the success of it. At a very early age, a child learns that he or she can escape being caught in doing a wrong, including the shame and guilt accompanying capture, by lying. Usually, the crime is something as simple as stealing a cookie, a crime that is one of the most universally forgiven by mothers and fathers worldwide. Ironic that such a simple and understandable incident may start one on a long string of deceits. The greatest damage in lying is not that one deceives friends and family but that one grows to believe their own lies, thereby deceiving themselves with drastic consequences. If one doubts these words, I invite you to just look around at our leaders today to see the truth of it and the immeasurable damage it can cause. Yours truly, Joe Reynolds There is much truth to what you say but I’d just interject that, growing up in a strict fundamentalist household that told us not to associate with those who didn’t believe as we did and not to read books except those on the Approved Sacred list, one learned to cut corners on the truth and be crafty in order to survive. There was a deadliness about the faith that looked forward to death and regarded life as an unfortunate interval. A young person who possessed some curiosity had to rebel. GK Hi, Garrison. Scotland in the spring … now that’s something to anticipate this winter. I went on an Outlander tour there a few years ago, and despite always having been told that my ancestors were all from Ireland, something happened that led me to suspect otherwise. One of the sites we visited was the Culloden battlefield, and I discovered that one of the regiments included members of the MacCormack clan. As I walked the field, I felt an unusual degree of connection — it just resonated with me, far more than I ever felt when I visited Ireland. I came away convinced that there had to be some Scots in my ancestry. This was later borne out in a DNA test. We saw so many beautiful places in Scotland, but my favorite place was the Fairy Pools. Magical … Have a great trip! Pat McCormack My Scottish forebears were lowlanders, not clannish, and we’ll find their ghosts in the streets of tenements in Glasgow. Whenever I’ve heard a bagpipe I got as far away from it as I could. GK I wish you’d come give a show in Traverse City, Michigan. And I enjoyed your missive about wacko dreams. I had one this morning. Dreamt I’d gone to an art opening that turned out to be a concert — and I was surprised to be the featured soloist. I majored in music about 100 years ago (seems like) and I was horrified to find they were expecting me to play a super-difficult piece. I hadn’t touched my saxophone in probably ten years and didn’t remember the piece at all. The accompanist said, “Don’t worry! Just wing it!” Ach! Thank gawd I woke up. Margie Guyot This happens regularly to me in real life, Margie. I go to a show, like last Friday night in Lexington, KY, and it dawns on me sitting in the dressing room that they’re here to see me and I don’t even play a sax, all I do is talk. And I don’t wake up. I go out onstage and talk. I did 90 minutes impromptu nonstop in Lexington and they seemed to like it okay but it was hard on me. But then afterward we stopped at McDonald’s for a quarter-pounder and vanilla shake and the woman at the drive-up window looked like she’d had an awful long day, but she was very nice, very sweet. Maybe a single mom trying to make her way in a tough economy. That’s my idea of a genuine hero, not a guy with stage fright. GK CLICK HERE to buy A Year in Lake Wobegon:a collection of 12 "above-average" stories representing all the goings-on in Lake Wobegon during one calendar year.Each monologue is culled from episodes of A Prairie Home Companion that aired between 2014 and 2016. Between monologues you will hear music by Peter Ostroushko.You’re on the free list for Garrison Keillor and Friends newsletter and Garrison Keillor’s Podcast. 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