Dear Garrison,
During our last attendance of a live performance of "A Prairie Home Companion", my wife wanted to leave during "The News From Lake Wobegon" in order to beat the traffic. Of course, I did not comply, but is this grounds for divorce?

Tony
Aberdeen, NJ

Your wife is smart and knows that the show is on the radio, which you have in your car, and she looked at the old galoot clomping around on stage and thought, "This would be better on the radio." She wanted to glide home, while listening to the show and imagining me as a slim dude with flowing blonde hair and tinted glasses. Good for her.

Dear Garrison,
I was raised listening to your show, and I've always enjoyed your humor when it comes to religious life. As an Episcopalian though, I have to let you know though that I was pretty offended by your reference to playing strip-chess with the newly elected presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori. It's not that I object to the notion of strip chess, or that I think religious leaders are above being laughed at, but it was a cheap shot. If you wanted to laugh at a position of hers, or a stupid thing she's done, fine. But making a sexual joke about a woman, just because she's the first woman elected to a position of authority in a denomination is inappropriate. I think it shows a lack of respect for women in positions of authority and for my denomination. The saddest part is that it wasn't even funny.

A disappointed listener,
Kara R.

I don't think I said that, Kara. The boat in the story, the S.S. Saltine, was owned by the Mormons and the Episcopalians and the captain was an Episcopalian woman, but bishophood wasn't a part of the deal. At any rate, there are a number of women bishops in the Episcopalian church, including Cathy Roskam whom I know from New York. So it wasn't about Bishop Schori. You may be right about the joke not being funny, but is that so sad? Not to me. If you do comedy, you accept the fact that some jokes will fall flat. And at a certain point, failed jokes take on a comic aspect of their own.
I could tell you some of the failed jokes over the years and you'd laugh yourself silly.

Dear Garrison,
Our family of four traveled from Riverside to the Hollywood Bowl for an evening none of us will ever forget (that is, until we get forgetful). Thanks so much!

There was a line in the show about silver-haired fathers, at which point my daughter Claire (age 9) hugged me (I'm 61) with that kind of tight hug of a child's love that surely added two years to my life.

My older daughter Anna (age 11, and an avid reader) remarked on the long drive home, as she munched on leftovers from our picnic, that she was having her first midnight snack. My wife Susan --from Minneapolis-- extolled the genius of Meryl Streep and your wisdom about men.

Meanwhile, I was thinking of rural Illinois and your story about manure spreaders, something I know about. It was a brilliant stroke to fuse the image of the traditional manure spreader with that of the septic tank pumper truck. But should you choose to use this image again, might I dare make a suggestion: If manure is to be shot from a nozzle at so many gallons per minute, it would be more accurate to speak of "hydrogenated manure," wouldn't it? To old, no-longer-bachelor farmers, these details matter.

Devotedly,

David G.
Riverside, CA

Glad that you and your brood enjoyed the show, sir, and that "Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine" moved your daughter Claire to hug you. I can imagine that an impromptu hug from a little girl made the evening for you. And yet, even in that state of dizzy pleasure, you listened with a discerning ear to the story about the posse on the honey truck chasing down the vandals who beat on mailboxes with baseball bats and firing pig manure out of a cannon, and you make the editorial suggestion of "hydrogenated manure." This is the sort of suggestion that the late William Shawn of The New Yorker delighted in, ever seeking to make things clearer, and it's the sort of suggestion that I the writer reject. I think the term "hydrogenated manure" only causes a little blip of a question mark in the listener's mind, and when you have manure shooting out of a cannon at a truckload of miscreants with baseball bats, you don't want the listener to be distracted. The manure is obviously liquefied in order to be shot from a cannon, and that implication is all you need. Or so I would argue. But now you've made me curious and I will have to look into it further.

Post to the Host:
I'm a guy from a small Midwestern town (exactly like I envision Lake Wobegon to be) who several weeks ago spent about $2,000 more than I originally intended on a used car. The car, a 2002 Toyota Camry with a mere 40K miles on the odometer, is in excellent shape (according to my mechanic) and seems to operate just fine, and by rights should provide years and years of reliable service. In addition, I've had great success with Toyota in the past. Why then do I still feel a twinge of buyer's remorse? Could it be that my Midwestern sense of frugality and scorn for ostentatiousness has been jarred in some way? Not that I'm saying a four-year-old Toyota is in any way ostentatious.

Mike M.
Barberton, OH

You and me both, pal. Some of us have the remorse gene and get twinges of it on a daily basis. I can appreciate that even a fine Toyota could cause a twinge, so imagine the sorts of violent twinges I get during a radio show. It's painful. I cope with this through induced memory loss. The next day I remember very little about a show and all of its rough moments and those little disasters that you listeners charitably don't tell me about. I honestly don't. We just go on, we the remorseful. Enjoy your car. You neglected to say what color it is. Red, I hope.

Dear Garrison~
I am in London finishing up my Master's degree in Art History. It's been a fantastic year, but I'm starting to feel anxious about graduation because I feel like I haven't even begun to learn everything I want to learn. There are so many things I don't know about art! So many things I don't know about, period! Russian literature, biology, world history, engineering, tons of other topics! But if I start a demanding career soon, when am I going to have time to really delve into these topics in a more than superficial way? As much as I love being a student, I can't really picture being a permanent fixture in university. I can't help panicking about my future. I would really appreciate some words of wisdom!

Yours nervously,
Erica S., 22

First of all, allow yourself some sense of accomplishment, kid. You went to London and had a great year. So feel good about that. And if you want another year of study, try to get yourself a research fellowship or a travelling fellowship. Too late for next year but apply for 07-08. Somebody is probably willing to bankroll a year in Rome or Paris or Madrid or wherever you feel led to go. For continuing education, I recommend that you settle down in a big city. That's one reason people choose to live in New York or Chicago or L.A. Because there's so much more they want to know and the city offers a rich smorgasbord of exhibits and lectures and programs in all sorts of fields. It's a lifelong education and when you come to the end and the dim shadows fall, you'll feel that you're only starting. Same as you feel now.

Garrison, I've just turned 50 and have learned to read over the last 2 years. In this day and age you'd think it impossible to get through life without reading, but you'd be surprised how easy it is to point to pictures for a waitress who's struggling with nine tables and to praise your companion's choice of movies at the ticket booth and again point to a bag of Twizzlers. Money and numbers were one thing, but words, they just came slowly to me and I finally got the right person to confess that to. She was a retired school teacher who I met twice a week and here I am poking one letter at a time on this thing.

You can imagine that the radio has been a great friend of mine and that's why I am writing you for advice. You've painted so many pictures in my head and the books that I can now read do the same thing. I'm up to words like reticent and beneficent, one that you recently used in a Post to the Host. My question is, what to read? I'm in the middle of a simple Bible now. I'm well acquainted with ordering books on line and would like to know your opinion on which way to turn next.

Thanks in advance and for the years of Dusty and Lefty and news from your home town.

Ron C. Ormond Beach, FL

Congratulations, Ron. Head off to your local public library and look around and see what catches your eye. Start with the Recent Acquisitions, the shiny new books, and browse through them and find what interests you. Like "102 Minutes," a terrific book about 9/11. While you're there, you might pick up a collection of the Grimm Brothers fables and also the stories of Hans Christian Andersen, both classics. I recommend short stories ---- Bobbie Ann Mason, John Cheever, and Eudora Welty are three great ones. I recommend the book I'm reading now: John McPhee's "Uncommon Carriers" ---- he's a very classy writer, none better, and if you like him, there's a lot more to choose from. From short stories, you can move on to short novels, like Charles Portis's "Norwood" or "The Red Badge of Courage". And you can't go wrong with the Selected Essays of E.B. White. But don't buy books online just yet. Try the library first. You may want to have a stack of books and dabble in each one. Just follow your nose. But why not start out with the good stuff? You can save the trash for when you're old and incompetent.

Dear Mr. Keillor,
To my surprise, I am writing you in defense of wrestling coaches. I'm a computer geek with no interest whatsoever in sports. However, I have the good fortune to have many friends in Minnesota, so I was a PHC fan pretty early on.

One of the finest Minnesotans I've had the pleasure of associating with was Jeff, who was my boss (best I've ever had) for four years. One night when we were both working late, and informally, he told me his wrestling coach was going to be a Senator. I'd known he'd gone to Carleton, but it seems he was wrestling the term when Paul Wellstone was filling in as wrestling coach. And that was how I first heard of Paul Wellstone.

Neil R.
Chicago

Touche, mon ami. A palpable hit. Point to Mr. R. I would only say that when I described Speaker Hastert as "about as smart as most wrestling coaches," I was talking about averages. One can always find exceptions. And I would say of myself, that I am about as accurate as most fiction writers.

Post to the Host:
It was sad to find out in my chemistry class that the tartness in rhubarb is from "oxalic acid". Oxalic acid, although it is useful for keeping the sauna clean, causes renal failure, stomach irritation, rudeness at dinner and flatulence at church. No amount of sugar can remedy the symptoms, nor will my aunt Hilga's home-baked crust that I lovingly use to mop up the rhubarb residue before turning in my clean plate. My questions are, am I immune because of my Viking heritage? Are there any substitutes for rhubarb pie that you can recommend? Thank you.

J.D. "Sven" W.
Williamsburg, VA

Science cannot explain everything, sir, and that includes the life-giving properties of rhubarb, the very joyfulness of it, its rejuvenating powers. As for flatulence, there is none at this end, and I had a rhubarb tart just last evening, along with a helping of pot roast and potatoes. A little cafe run by Democrats in Prospect Park, a neighborhood of southeast Minneapolis. We sat outdoors on a perfect summer evening, my wife and I, and there was no renal failure whatsoever. I can't vouch for Virginia rhubarb, but the varieties we encounter in Minnesota are nothing but beneficent.

Garrison,
So last week, my mom and I were coming home from the beauty parlor and I decided to catch your show. They were singing a song about a grey-haired father. My mother does not hear well so I was not sure she was even listening, when out of the blue she starting singing all and I mean all the words to the song. I was shocked. She said she had not heard the song in a long time. Since she is 93 years old it could have been a very long time. It was like I was back there with her when she heard the song years ago. Thanks for the moment with my mom!

Judy S.
Frisco, TX

Your mom probably heard Gene Autry sing "That Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine" and last week she heard John C. Reilly and Doyle Lawson and I sing it as a trio. Amazing what memory retains. Lyrics stick around for a long time ---- meter and rhyme are aids to recollection, don't you know.

Dear Mr. Keillor,
I attended a screening of the PHC film tonight (as part of the Seattle International Film Festival) and it was a wild success, met with laughter, tears and applause. What a poignant, bittersweet reflection on how everything must end, and all we can do is be there for each other. I went in expecting to just see a movie about a radio show, and came out taking serious stock in how I'm spending (or wasting) my blip of time on this earth. Mr. Altman and yourself have created a gem of a film that is destined to become a classic, and I hope you are proud of this remarkable diamond in your career. Great performances all around as well—not the least of which from yourself! You have a stoic, natural acting ability and wonderful presence on screen, and I hope there's an occasion to see it again in the future. Congratulations and thank you for doing this movie.

Billy D.
Seattle

Glad you enjoyed the flick, Billy D. You would've enjoyed the New York premiere on Sunday night at the Directors Guild theater on West 57th Street. A red carpet along the sidewalk, lined by thirty photogs and some TV cameras and radio reporters, so you walked from the limo up the line, people yelling at you, "This way! This way! To your right! Down here!" and you try to smile in a stoical way, as your wife clings to you as a branch in the storm, and then you look back and there is Virginia Madsen who is doing a real star turn in a red dress that is as low-cut as New York law permits, and the photographers are going bananas. And Lindsay Lohan behind her, who is similarly decked out, and Meryl Streep, and Kevin Kline. Had I walked up the sidewalk from Sixth Avenue, nobody would've paid any attention. But you walk on the red carpet (which is guarded by a man with a shaved head) and that makes you a star. And afterward the carpet is rolled up and we all become pedestrians ag ain. T hat's the lesson of life. All I can say is, it's different to experience this at the age of 63 than to grow up with it, as Miss Lohan has. So postpone your stardom, I say.

Mr. Keillor,
I recently had the distinct pleasure of attending a lecture by the esteemed Prime Minister Tony Blair at the prestigious Georgetown University. Among the attendees: Several male students sporting ball caps. Mr. Keillor, is there any hope for America's youth when it comes to good old fashioned manners?
Dallas H.
Woodbridge, VA

For sheer in-your-face pants-down piss-on-your-shoe boorishness, Mr. H., attend any football game anywhere in the U.K. The Brits set a standard of low-brow that the boys of Georgetown U. would have to work hard to match. Had Mr. Blair given his speech in London, he wouldn't have been surprised by heckling and hissing and jeering. And the hecklers wouldn't have been pitched out so readily as they would have in this country. I just finished teaching a college course to 140 young writers and found them very mannerly and also expressive and individualistic, which good manners allows for. Including a baseball hat.

Dear Garrison,
I am curious. I have been enjoying your show since its inception. I have even been to a live performance. Never in all those years have I had even an inkling that anything unplanned, much less catastrophic, has occurred during a show. Now in my world, there have always been those days when Murphy's Law goes into overdrive and anything that can go wrong does. Has this ever happened to you? Maybe I was visiting with family or engaged in some other social function and just missed those shows. Or, are you just that cool, calm and collected that you have been able ride through these mishaps without letting your audience suspect?

Fondly,
Nannette B
Miami, FL

It's not me, Nannette, it's the crew who's cool, calm, and collected. They do a great job of fending off catastrophe. I am rather jittery and discombobulated, but having a pretty good time nonetheless. Lots happens that is unplanned ---- sketches get dropped at the last minute, things get shuffled around, and sometimes I go out to do the News from Lake Wobegon and forget half of it, or have to compress it, but this is all normal stuff. Once you've had small children, doing a live show is not such a big thing. Nobody in the Shoe Band ever comes up to me weeping over something another band member has said to him. None of them run around in circles screeching. Or throw up. Or suddenly disappear. That would be disconcerting.

Dear Garrison,
I stumbled upon this site after having subscribed to the Writer's Almanac as a podcast. I have just finished a 4-year Spanish degree at University and am in the process of entering the Real World, the thought of which has me quivering jelly-like. Have any survival tips for a debt-ridden wannabe 22-year-old writer who seems destined for a career in Spanish-speaking customer service?

Kind regards,
Anna
Newcastle upon Tyne, England

Anna, greetings from Los Angeles where I'm writing a show for Saturday from the Hollywood Bowl. I am trying to write for Meryl Streep and Virginia Madsen who are on the show and in frustration have decided to sit down and reply to Posts to the Host. And here you are! Of course I have survival tips. I recommend that you make a three-year plan that includes (1) paying off the debts and (2) writing and (3) finding delight in the real world. You need a job for (1) and for (2) you need the discipline to put yourself to work. I recommend setting the alarm to go off early and giving yourself an hour in which to take a walk and sit down and write. It will help balance you for the day and it'll be good training. But (3) is important too. Sit down and talk to yourself and figure out what really makes you happy, and make yourself pursue those things. Streamline the rest of your life to make room for delight. I have a little girl now and observing her is teaching me so mething about delight. She finds it every day, over and over.