Post to the Host

Dear Mr. Keillor,

You have been part of my life for a very long time. I remember listening to you when I still lived with my parents. Both of my parents died in their early 60s, and I have just passed that mile marker, so I have some nagging dread.

My favorite part of Prairie Home Companion was your monologue. I loved the stories about small-town life. A good writer is a good observer, and you are certainly that, sir. Your writing is mostly about you these days, and the things that annoy you and bring you small pleasures. You write about reconnecting with old friends, the woman you love, and delighting in your daughter. Today was about the simple joys in life, like macaroni and cheese, which even after all this time, I love, but am hesitant to eat because of calories. 

I’m guessing most of us ask ourselves the same questions as we near the end of our lives. Was I a good person? Was I a good mother, wife, friend, teacher? Did my life mean something? Will I be remembered fondly?

I envy those with strong faith. They believe they know what comes next. I can’t tell if you are in that group, or not. I hope you are, as it must be a great comfort. Best of luck with your surgery. I hope you will let us know how it went.

Thank you for all the years of happy listening, 

Dana Fiore

Dana, let’s not worry about our life having meaning or whether we’ll be remembered fondly. Let’s live our days fully and let that be enough. My daughter and my wife both live intensely and I’m a slug compared to them. My daughter is afraid of missing out on fun and when she calls us she has an ear out for people in her vicinity doing something she wants to be part of — “Can I call you later?” she says. My wife is a hiker and museum-lover and socialite. I, as I say, am a slouch. But tonight I did a show at an amphitheater in Indiana in a thunderstorm, pouring rain, distant lightning, and the crowd was thrilled by it all and we sang “Singing in the Rain” and the Battle Hymn and “How Great Thou Art” and I worked hard for them and it was an intense night. They went home happy. They’ll remember it for a while.

GK

Are you aware that over 73 percent of the voting population of Wabash voted Republican in the 2020 election? THIS, dear heart, might be why Wabash looks so good. We are not from Wabash, but we are on the same wave-length as Wabash … we Wabashians know that to have a beautiful town, we have to work to maintain it, work to support it, and not wait for the Federal government to come do it for us. Our small town in Ohio is gorgeous, too … as is our countryside … our schools are top-notch … I have never in my life been so glad to live in the sticks among a bunch of stubborn, hardworking, German couple-of-generations-back immigrants as I have been this past two years! Do you wonder why Wabash looks good? Oops, I’ve answered my own question!

Janice Gagel

Glad you’re proud of your town and those hardworking Germans but there is not the slightest connection between the beauty of Wabash and Donald Trump, his Supreme Court, his admiration of Putin, his egotism, his monetization of the Republican Party. Vote for whomever you admire, but let’s not try to link opposites.

GK

Dear Garrison, 

I don’t live in the city but at the far end of New York not far from the Bills stadium. New York will always be New York. We are not the Bible Belt and we don’t sell hate. People will help you. Hospitals are hospitable and privacy is respected. Have your procedure, walk around, see Niagara Falls, spend some time and relax. 

To the people of Wabash — nice job, looks elegant. 

Clay Blasdel

Buffalo

Good to hear from Buffalo, which has given New York a fine new governor, Ms. Hochul, who keeps her head down and does the work.

GK

Dear Mr. Keillor,

Welcome to Wabash! This morning I saw you coming out of our coffee shop, Modoc’s. I noticed a very tall gentleman with red tennis shoes and recognized you immediately. You were in the crosswalk heading back to Charley Creek Inn and I was driving south. I stopped to let you pass safely… a very Hoosier thing to do. I wish I would have rolled down the window and yelled hello … another normal Hoosier thing to do. I’ve seen you perform a number of times but will miss you this evening due to a sold-out theater. It seems all of Wabash is excited you are visiting. Best wishes and break a leg. Please know we’d love to have you come back anytime.

Mary Kramer

As I’ve made clear, I loved Wabash, which (see letter above) is 73 percent Republican, and I find no contradiction there at all. Give credit where credit is due. Those folks have made a beautiful town and I take my Democrat hat off to them and we can argue about anything you want to argue about but reality is reality and Wabash is magnificent.

GK

Dear Garrison,

In this week’s PTTH, Nils Peterson quotes from a 2018 NYT article the following: “Lying is not only normal; it’s also a sign of intelligence.” If you accept the accuracy of this astonishing claim (which was backed up by “research”), then you must also accept that Donald Trump — one of the world’s most prolific liars (backed up by WaPo research, which enumerated more than 30,000 of DJT’s false or misleading statements just while president) — must have been inadvertently telling the truth when he said, “Sorry losers and haters, but my IQ is one of the highest …” A scary thought for folks who’ve just pegged him as a fool.

Of course, not all prolific liars become POTUS. A few become novelists. As the prolific author (30-plus bestselling novels) Barbara Taylor Bradford said, “You can’t be a novelist if you can’t imagine things happening that have never happened; you need to be a really good liar.” Which leads me to conclude that you, sir, are a really good liar — nay, a world-class liar. I, on the other hand, have stuck to writing humorous essays, as well as penning a poem or two, here and there, because, well, I’m pretty bad at it — lying that is. (Not that I don’t try, but I’m usually found out rather quickly as my guilty grin inevitably gives me away.) For example, here’s a limerick I penned on the subject a few years back … OK, just now:

O'l Garrison is quite a liar Spins tales like a manic town crier Though sometimes uncouth He just tells the truth Dressed up in the garb of satire

Rick Blum

Always sunny Bedford, Massachusetts

Fiction is a way of talking about friends and family without invading their privacy. We are privy to many lives, people we love confess their secrets to us, we see and hear and speculate about people we meet, and fiction is the gentle art of making sense of life without injuring the innocent. As for DJT, he is trying to back away from his praise of Putin as a genius and his boast about overturning Roe v. Wade, neither of which will be helpful to him in 2024. And the Republican Party today has no connection that I can see to the loyal Republicans of mid-America. Their principles have been badly betrayed.

GK

Garrison, after following all the cloyingly maudlin national folderol over America’s Mother’s Day and Father’s Day and also after noting that just about every cause conceivable to man has a day devoted to it/us/them, I have decided that it’s well past time to initiate a Non-Father’s Day and also a Non Mother’s Day. To refrain from spawning takes considerable courage and resolution.

A deliberate decision to not foster children is deserving of recognition and honor.

Cheers,

Kalikiano

I’m sure you’ll find co-celebrants and supporters, more than show up for Father’s Day, a dramatically uncelebrated event. I’m a father, I know.

GK

Hello, Garrison.

A while ago you wrote a piece that referenced artist/photographer Robert Mapplethorpe and the famous exhibit of his work at the Corcoran Gallery in D.C. in 1989. The Gallery, fearful of congressional reprisal, pulled the show that featured some explicit homoerotic images. There was an uproar from art lovers and the show was moved to the lower profile Washington Project for the Arts (WPA) where, not surprisingly, there were soon lines outside the door.

At the time I was on the staff of the American Association of Museums in D.C. I was then, and many years later too, an arts administrator, an occupation I recall you sometimes made fun of. I can assure you we earned our low salaries those days in the culture wars — and every day since.

At the WPA, a reporter, I believe from the Washington Post, interviewed an elderly lady as she emerged from the Mapplethorpe show. “What did you think of it?” she was asked. “Why,” she replied, “it gets more disgusting every time I see it.”

I enjoy your writings and, as a longtime choir member in Episcopal churches, your references to how services, the Anglican liturgy, and the music moves you. I can assure you that we now and then lift our noses from an anthem by the 16th century Thomas Tallis to sing “How Great Thou Art.” They both support what is attributed to St. Augustine that “to sing is praying twice.”

Geoffrey P.

Bethesda, Maryland

You’re right, I’ve made fun of arts administrators. Somehow the two words combined strike me as hilarious. I went to Congress to lobby for the NEA, in support of arts in the schools, giving kids the chance to learn about painting and photography and music and poetry, and instead I had to defend a picture of a naked man with a whip in his rectum. I had to argue for freedom of expression when actually I found the show insulting. Oh well. Anyway, I got to meet Alan Simpson of Wyoming, a great man. And I’m done lobbying. Permanently.

GK

Garrison,

I’m a longtime fan who is old enough (young enough?) to say I grew up listening to you each week on my lil’ red boombox. There’s a bunch of stuff I’d love to know about you and your work, but having just read “Nobody Asked ...” I’ve got a question to ask ya. What’s your basis for stating, “thousands of outraged whites went out and burned down their neighborhoods”? Watching in real-time via social media and the press, this didn’t seem to be the case in an obvious sense. Which “white” neighborhoods burned down? Am I taking this snippet too literally?

Looking forward to reading Boom Town!
CBVB

We’re still waiting for a serious history of the George Floyd murder and protests that followed in Minneapolis. Lake Street, which used to be a main business thoroughfare with lots of used car lots, still has a long boarded-up ramshackle stretch where the worst took place. I hold my fellow Democrats responsible for this, the city government that failed to defend the city and the crowds of white progressives who served as cover for the violence. The nonsense about defunding the police is a millstone around the necks of liberals. We need to defend civility and law and order, which are even more important to children, minorities, low-income people, immigrants, than to the suburban Republicans. End of sermon.

GK

Dear Garrison,

We started using audio books when traveling years ago. Flying or driving for hours seems to pass quicker when engaged by skillful writing. We went through all the Lake Wobegon collections way back when CDs were “the thing” and we’re happy to see both Boom Town and Serenity at 70, Gaiety at 80 are each read by you and available on Audible.com. We look forward to as many stories as the Good Lord has put inside of you!

Willie K 

Thanks for the commercial, sir. My wife is the driver in the family, I’m the passenger, and we only take short trips and somehow we enjoy the peace and quiet, watching the country go by. She talks frankly to drivers who irritate her and I sometimes interview her and the time passes. Maybe we’ll get a Billy Collins audio or a Mary Oliver. I can imagine listening to poetry in the car. A whole long novel? I don’t think so.

GK

Dear GK,

Regarding there being only Fitzgerald in the pantheon from MN, you’ve forgotten Sinclair Lewis — certainly a different kind of writer but fantastic in his own right. And it depends on who’s constructing the pantheon, don’t it?

Best wishes,
David James
Saugatuck, Michigan

I loved Main Street and Elmer Gantry and Arrowsmith when I was in high school. Maybe Lewis is due for a reviewal. You write a book appreciating him and I’ll write a blurb for the back cover.

GK

Why is the subject matter in poems as well as history on TWA predominantly English and American?

Klansee Clark

I’m an American and I speak English. Monolingual. And it’s a five-minute blip. But it’s soon to expire so there’s an opening for someone to do a predominantly Asian or African TWA.

GK

A friend recently introduced me to The Writer’s Almanac via email, and I have been enjoying each edition. But I have a question about the poet George Denham whose poem about Georges Bizet first confused then amused me so much that I wanted to read more of his poetry only to find that he is apparently an extremely rare being who has no Google information beyond an odd list of books either published or illustrated by a George Denham and an earlier poem in The Writer’s Almanac. What? I leaped into the Rabbit Hole and did discover that you had an uncle named George Denham. But I suspect that the real poet is … you. Is my suspicion correct? If not, who IS George Denham and what has he published? 

Sincerely,

Ruth

Ruth, you found me out. My uncle George was a friendly guy and I thought he wouldn’t mind my giving him some poems though he’d long departed the planet. My mother loved him though he was a rebellious brother. I admire your enterprise, dear.

GK

George Bizet by George Denham George Bizet was a Minnesotan, Lutheran-bred. And at the age of twenty, flew to Paris for a visit And on the Champs Elysee decided to be French instead And pronounce his name Be-zay instead of Bizet. He came back to Minnesota in a black beret. Something French in him needed to be expressed, He felt, and one bitterly cold February day, Eating cornflakes, he decided to leave the Midwest. His mother cried, “George, please don’t leave!” He said, “Maman, I love you but what is the harm in Finding a little gaiety and joie de vivre And socialized medicine?” He said to Carmen, “Darling, it’s cold here and the water tastes like copper. A Plane leaves for Paris at midnight. Let’s be an opera.”

Dear Garrison,
 
I am bereft. The Writer’s Almanac will be no more.
 
I wake up every morning to squeeze fresh orange juice, make toast from my homemade bread, brew double-strength French Roast, and listen to The Writer’s Almanac.
 
I am nearly blind and live alone, widowed in 2010 after 64 years of a blissful marriage.
 
You and I have a few things in common. We both grew up in small towns in Minnesota and graduated from the University of Minnesota. You now overlook Central Park with its city wildlife, and I live on the banks of the Missouri River with Canada Geese always in view. I am 97 as opposed to your 79.
 
Life is good. Some friends come to play mah-jongg with me every Tuesday and I have other friends who take me to concerts and art events, and pick up groceries for me. I get books and The New Yorker every week through Montana Talking Books and my iPad and cassette player read them to me.
 
I have three children; one on each coast and one over the Divide four hours away. My youngest, the Montanan, comes once a month to refill my pantry with chocolate, and to replenish my Beefeater’s for my nightly martini.
 
On May 23rd, my birthday, I will be dry fly-fishing on the Big Horn River with a guide I have fished with for over 30 years. He tells me where to cast upstream with a tiny dry fly and I get very excited when he yells “Strike!”
 
I live a happy life. Thank you for the years of The Writer’s Almanac being part of that life.
 
The best to you,
 
Molly

Molly, this is a letter that absolutely makes my day. To think of our lives being joined slightly is absolutely joyful. I wish I could’ve invented you, the mah-jongg, the martini, the geese, the fly-fishing, all of it. God bless you, love, and thank you for making an old Minnesotan extremely happy.

GK

Dear Mr. Keillor:

Many years ago you broadcast from Austin, Texas, on June 10th — my son Seth’s birthday. Before the show, I dutifully filled out one of your little cards, hoping you would read it, but you didn’t do so. Now, with my son’s birthday practically around the corner, I’m going to give you another chance. 

Lynda Bertram

Fort Worth, Texas

Happy birthday to Seth down in Texas, His mother's delight and her nexus, And I failed to say so When they came to my show, A blow to LB's solar plexus. We apologize, as she expects us.

GK