What is normality and do we want it?

So here we are, locked down in our tiny village since March, winter on the way, chilly winds over the tundra, we’re waiting for men on a dogsled to bring the sacred COVID vaccine, meanwhile we hunker in our dark hut and while away the hours telling tales of old conquests. I try to while but whiling is not my strong suit and I’ve had no conquests, only a series of lucky breaks. I married well. I was born late enough so that medicine had figured out how to repair my congenital heart defect, which enabled me to enjoy the marriage a good deal longer. I took up writing as a profession, which is advantageous for a man with a long face and no social skills. I could list others.

When I hear people talk about life getting back to normal after the vaccine, frankly I have qualms. I’ve lived a long time and seen a number of normals and don’t think normality is what we should settle for. Some of us have come to appreciate this simpler contemplative time. I don’t long to be in crowds again. I don’t miss going to restaurants, the shouted conversations, the strangers at your elbow. I prefer Netflix to movie theaters, the popcorn is better. And dinner parties — do we have to? I remember that awful point in the evening when you try to think of a nice way to say, “I wish you people would all go home now.”

I’m a Scot on my mother’s side and so I expect the worst and for us pessimists, staying home is an excellent idea and the pandemic gives me a good excuse. I can imagine walking down the street and a 500-pound anvil falls out of a tree and crushes me and someone gets it on video and it goes viral, a tall scholarly man suddenly obliterated and it’s horrible but also weirdly humorous — he’s a white male and then suddenly he’s a pile of clothing — and though you ask, “Why was a 500-pound anvil parked in a tree on Columbus Avenue?” it’s too late for Nowhere Man — he’s being carried in a coffin the size of a fruit basket and his death video has gotten 57 million hits. I refuse to be him; I am the man happy to be eating waffles in his own kitchen.

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Classic A Prairie Home Companion

This week's classic A Prairie Home Companion broadcast was originally performed The Fitzgerald Theater downtown St. Paul. Guests included the distinguished Broadway Actor and Academy Award nominee John Lithgow, acoustic duo Storyhill, and Nashville guitar heavy Steve Wariner. Peter Ostroushko and Butch Thompson sat in with The Guy's All-Star Shoe Band. Plus, the Royal Academy of Radio Actors; Tim Russell, Sue Scott, and Tom Keith, and the latest autumnal update from Lake Wobegon.

Every Saturday, a classic broadcast from the archives is featured on our Facebook fan page and on the website for your listening pleasure. The link to the show is posted at 5 pm CT but can be accessed anytime. 

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That Time of Year: A Memoir by Garrison Keillor (AUTOGRAPHED)

Garrison's memoir comes out via Arcade Publishing on December 1st. Autographed copies can currently be reserved/pre-ordered from our store, and they will ship to arrive on November 17th (an exclusive perk for this newsletter!). 

For our autographed copies, Garrison hand-signed 1500 copies of the below poem, and those pages were then professionally bound into the books.
 

This book that I’ve signed down below
Took me a lifetime or so,
Trying to recall
The rise and the fall
That all seemed a long time ago.
If you write one, my friend,
I recommend:
Do it now while you know what you know.

Pre-order a signed copy from our store >>>

PRE-ORDER: The News from Lake Wobegon

We have raided the vault and assembled the second chronological collection of early Lake Wobegon stories! This new collection will be available beginning in early November and you can pre-order it from our store now.

When A Prairie Home Companion went national in 1980, Garrison Keillor started turning his vignettes, updates, and letters from Lake Wobegon into a full-fledged story each week. In this vintage collection, you can hear America’s favorite storyteller hone his craft in front of a live audience, regaling them with stories about what takes place in “the little town that time forgot and decades could not improve.”

This collection includes monologues from A Prairie Home Companion that aired in the year 1981.

Pre-order from our store >>>
Order "From the Archives 1980" collection >>>
Also available as mp3 downloads >>>

Make America Intelligent Again masks

SET OF 3 MASKS

We teach our children to cover their mouths when coughing or sneezing, so why not mask up in these trying times with an inspired message? These washable, functional face masks feature elastic ear loops that fit snugly but not too tightly. Order more to receive a lower price per mask.

                                   Get the masks >>>

Nothing You Do For Children Paperweight

This gem of wisdom from Leaving Home, Garrison Keillor's bestselling book of Lake Wobegon stories, is for every parent, grandparent and teacher – anyone, really, who cares deeply about children. Without a doubt, these eight simple words are a big reason all children in Lake Wobegon are "above average." Quotation is etched on a substantial glass weight and packaged in a lovely gift box. Made in the USA.

Get the paperweight >>>

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