Dear Mr. Keillor,
I am 18 years old, and I believe that my generation has lost touch with what is really entertainment. I want to someday host a variety show like yours and wonder what route I should take to get into the business in this day and age. What education do I need, and what can I do to make this goal a reality? To me, radio has really gone downhill. My dream is to entertain people with music and radio drama.

Colin L.
Atlanta

Radio is in a period of swift transition, Colin, an interesting time to watch and learn. The Internet and podcasting are changing things, opening up the field, bringing down some of the old empires, and opening things up to new voices. You can listen to just about anything and everything just surfing the Web. Try listening to "This American Life" and "Studio 360" and American RadioWorks documentaries and go on from there. I recommend a good solid liberal arts education, the best you can find, with a major in history or whatever most moves you — not communications, not radio — and try to develope your writing skills. A key to success in radio is having your own distinctive voice and writing will help you develop that. Four years from now, when you're done with college, radio will have turned itself inside out and then you'll have a clearer idea what might be possible for you. Good luck.

It is with great sadness that we learned of our dear friend Robert Altman's passing. Here, then, is a note from Garrison.

Mr. Altman loved making movies. He loved the chaos of shooting and the sociability of the crew and actors — he adored actors — and he loved the editing room and he especially loved sitting in a screening room and watching the thing over and over with other people. He didn't care for the money end of things, he didn't mind doing publicity, but when he was working he was in heaven.

He and I once talked about making a movie about a man coming back to Lake Wobegon to bury his father, and Mr. Altman said, "The death of an old man is not a tragedy." I used that line in the movie we wound up making — the Angel of Death says it to the Lunch Lady, comforting her on the death of her lover Chuck Akers in his dressing room, "The death of an old man is not a tragedy." Mr. Altman's death seems so honorable and righteous — to go in full-flight, doing what you love — like his comrades in the Army Air Force in WWII who got shot out of the sky and simply vanished into blue air — and all of us who worked with him had the great privilege of seeing an 81-year-old guy doing what he loved to do. I'm sorry that our movie turned out to be his last, but I do know that he loved making it. It's a great thing to be 81 and in love.

-Garrison Keillor

Dear Mr. Keillor.
I still haven't listened to your radio show since I'm from Norway and I haven't seen The Prairie Home Companion movie either, since my local movie theatre only showed it for two days, but I get the update mails from your show every week and I have read your book Days in Lake Wobegon, which I really like (I'm starting on book two soon). I have to say that I really like your humorous, but still serious writing about the small town life in Minnesota.

I've been fascinated by the Scandinavian (and especially the Norwegian) people in the Mid-West for a long time, since I figured out that my hometown Hamar was Fargo's sistercity. The thing that fascinates me the most is that everything I read about this group of people makes me think that they are more Norwegian, Swedish and Danish than we "real" Scandinavians are, for example the lutefisk and lefse tradition. I can understand lefse, but lutefisk? Personally, as a normal Norwegian, I'm not so especially fond of Lutefisk, so I wonder why the Norwegian settlers have kept this horrible tradition. We're actually having lutefisk for dinner next week, and I think I have to go to my friend and eat dinner there instead.

Thank you for great books and (I guess) a great radio show.

Hanne
Hamar, Norway

The lutefisk tradition is a sentimental holiday institution here, observed by many Norwegians and Swedes, especially those in small towns, especially those who attend Lutheran churches or belong to Scandinavian organizations. It's a souvenir of ethnic identity, which is a precious thing to many Americans. As the country becomes more homogenized — shopping malls are the same all over, freeways, TV, teenagers, fashion — we cherish little things that show we're different from the others. You could get a tattoo, you could put a ring in your nose or ride a Harley or color your hair green, or you could eat lutefisk — whatever works. This sameness is the quality of suburbs and a lot of people find it oppressive. The fact that most people consider lutefisk repulsive only adds to the attraction

Dear Mr. Keillor,
My family and I listen to the show in the suburbs in South Florida, sometimes driving off to dinner with the girls and I singing the Powdermilk Biscuit song at the top of our lungs, and my wife rolling her eyes.

A few weeks ago we made the pilgrimage to St. Paul to see the show, and we were not disappointed. Truly, I got chills when I heard the opening theme. St. Paul was an interesting city, but one thing we couldn't figure out was how empty the downtown area was. We walked down to the farmer's market Saturday morning around 9:00am, and you could have filmed a movie about the day after the apocalypse. The streets were positively empty of people and cars. Is it always like this?

Chris P.
Weston Florida

Chris, glad you could make it up to Minnesota and bring your girls and only sorry you didn't come in January or February when the city is really beautiful and sparkly and we have a Winter Carnival going on, square dancing on skis, a Snow Angel contest, and so forth. Saturday mornings at 9 is when St. Paulites do tai chi and meditation in their homes. It's a new thing, an hour of relaxation, but people are catching on, though of course there are cheaters who spend the hour at a coffeeshop or go buying pajamas or garden hose. If you'd walked up to any home and peeked in the window, you'd have seen people making graceful stretching movements such as the Heron Rising To The Mountain and Breeze Sweeping The Wheatfield and also Man Reaching To Pick Up Socks. If you wanted to see crowds, you should've gone to downtown Minneapolis.

Dear Mr. Keillor,
I have a little problem, which you might be able to help me with. My family likes to try new and unusual recipes. The prairie home companion sponsors have served us well in new ideas, catsup on lentils and rhubarb pie being good examples. Now, after years of experimentation, we have finally worked up the nerve to experiment with Lutefisk. I've tried internet services and other cooking references, but have been stumped in finding either a recipe for this, or volunteer groups to aid in recovery after eating it.

Do you have either a good recipe for this, or a place where I could obtain some?

Your help is greatly appreciated,

Sincerely
Mike S.

(Response from Mrs. Sundberg, lutefisk expert)

Well, you know, Michael, everyone has his or her own recipe for lutefisk, and it's tough to say which is best. Since this is your first go-round, I suggest this recipe which is simple and foolproof and turns out a lovely batch. In Minnesota, we allow at least a pound of lutefisk per person. Try Olsen's Lutefisk Company in Minneapolis. They've been around since 1910 and you can get a 50 lb container if you want to go all out. Their phone number is (612) 287-0838, and they have a Lutefisk Hotline in case you reach crisis mode: 1-800-882-0212.

Purchase the lutefisk a day or two before you want to serve it. Take it out of the wrapping, put it in a large bowl, and cover it with ice water. Change this water two to three times and keep it in the fridge (if your family will let you). This will firm it up. To cook it, place the lutefisk in an enamel or glass pan. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and dot with butter. Cover with aluminum foil and bake at 350 for 30 minutes for the first pound of fish and 10 minutes for each additional pound. When it's cloudy (white) or flaky, it's done. If it's clear, cook it longer. Serve with melted butter if you're Norwegian, and if you're Swedish try white sauce with a bit of allspice, or mustard sauce. Serve up some potatoes (riced goes best), very small cooked frozen peas, and lefse, buttered and sugared and rolled up, and you've got yourself a feast.

Should you have leftovers, try a Norwegian Lutefisk Taco. Cover a piece of lefse with a thin layer of mashed potatoes, sprinkle with flaked lutefisk, and pour melted butter over the top. Salt and pepper it, and roll it on up. Enjoy!

As for recovery, I can't help you there. Stock up on Tums and plan to order out for pizza on Day Two. A few pine-scented candles can't hurt, either.

-Mrs. Sundberg

Hello Mr. Keillor:
I was disappointed with the jab you threw at deer hunters describing opening day of Minnesota deer season as "the day we dress all of our drunks up in blaze orange (etc.)". A few bad apples can ruin the image of any group, and this is true of hunters. Most of us are decent, hard-working people who obey the law and pay our taxes. You never take cheap shots, which is why I was rather stunned to hear that line. I don't appreciate being labeled a "drunk" because I participate in an activity I find rewarding and fun, and I suspect the many thousands of your fellow Minnesotans who hunt don't either. We get enough grief as it is, and I hope I can tune in to your show without hearing more of it there.

Mark H.
Knoxville

Yes, the objects of jokes tend to be sensitive about this. I speak as a liberal, and I have friends who are lawyers. Was that a cheap shot? Maybe so. Maybe it should have been put in the mouth of a character in Lake Wobegon, perhaps the acerbic Dorothy at the Chatterbox Cafe. That's exactly the sort of thing she'd say. She considers hunting pretty ridiculous and doesn't mince words about it. That most hunters are decent, law-abiding folk is not in question. That there is a LOT of drinking going on is also beyond doubt, according to what my hunter friends have told me. Maybe that is folklore, but sometimes comedy works with folklore and with stereotypes. The over-armed city hunter crashing through the woods, two sheets to the wind — a comic stereotype, but it must come from someplace, it wasn't just dreamed up out of thin air. Likewise, the cheating conniving Philadelphia lawyer. Most Philadelphia lawyers, surely, are quiet, ethical, devoted to the cause of human rights, and yet the cartoon figure persists. Likewise, the blithering latte liberal who loves the oppressed and downtrodden at a great distance: there's truth in that, my friend.

In my old age, I am more and more in favor of plain speech. I think that we midwesterners try much too hard to be inoffensive and it's bad for us and bad for comedy. And I hope you get your deer.

Post to the Host:
I PROTEST! Many of us here in the Philadelphia area have been waiting for YEARS for a live performance of PHC to be held here in our area. We faithfully listen to your show, we have seen the movie, we have come out to previous events such as the show about "Guys" a few years back held at the Academy of Music and the show with the Philadelphia Orchestra at the Mann Music Cente r. But, alas, we have never seen a live performance of PHC.

Now, just the other day I found out during a local NPR station fund drive that PHC is coming to do a live performance on January 27, 2007 but the TICKETS ARE ALREADY ALL SOLD OUT! The event, to my knowledge, and I pay attention for these things, was never advertised. That means that the only people offered the opportunity to come and who bought all the tickets are the season subscribers to the Kimmel Center, where the event will be held.

Wo uld you PLEASE, for those of us who are above average, yet are not Kimmel Center subscribers, consider holding your live performance at a larger venue so that we "above average Joes and Josephines" can have the chance to come.

Literally, I was crushed by this news, as were my parents, who also listen to you faithfully and were also at the previous Philadelphia events. Either a larger venue or could you please come back to Philadelphia again next year? There are many here who love your show and we feel as though we have been cheated out of the opportunity to see it in January 2007. On behalf of all of us in the Philadelphia area who identify with the Tolleruds and Norwegian bachelor farmers, etc., PLEASE, PLEASE consider our plight and what may be done about it.

Thanks so much for reading and thanks for enriching our lives with yours.

Judy
Philadelphia, PA

I agree, Judy, and I'm so sorry. The arrangements surrounding these tour broadcasts are worked out by our crack logistical staff and involve pages and pages of details and codicils and warranties and addenda, more than I can understand, but you're right: the tickets were offered first to Kimmel subscribers, then a considerable number were offered to the general public (advertised in various ways by the Kimmel) and those tickets went quickly. The show naturally prefers to play to an audience of listeners and that is why PHC is never broadcast before closed groups — i.e. the annual convention of morticians — and that is why we normally go through the local public radio stadion. I guess that the Kimmel is the promoter of this broadcast and so they advertised it as they normally would. But I regret that. We did a broadcast once where the first section of seats was sold to corporate people who had no idea what the show was and who came drunk and got drunker and sat there yelling at people on stage. A memorable day. An audience made up of longtime PHC listeners is a tough audience — they've heard a lot, they have high expectations — and I'd rather work hard for them than work in front of a crowd that's thinking, "When do the dancing girls come on? Where's the comedian?"

Dear Mr. Keillor:
My husband and I are relative newcomers to your wonderful radio show, and we enjoy it immensely. Thank you so much.

Last week's news from Lake Wobegon touched my soul for a very personal reason — our 18-year-old daughter, our only child, passed away in February. Hers was a difficult life of illness and disability, but her spirit was strong and shining, and we sense her presence at the most poignant of times.

Your story about the Lake Wobegon parents whose daughter died, and the ultimate appearance of their deceased daughter on Halloween night, left me in tears. Ironically, my husband and I didn't feel up to distributing candy this Halloween and left our house for the evening...and we discovered the next morning that our house had been egged — quite a bit. I don't know if the perpetrators were aware of our loss, but in my head I could hear the words of that little girl's apparition — "leave them in peace".

Again, thank you.

Fondly,
Virginia R., Jessica's Mother forever

Thank you for writing, Virginia. It was an odd story: about a boy's love of watching other people unaware of his presence, then his venture into their home and his interference, and then the ghost of the girl telling him to back off. He had been impersonating a ghost by lurking around their house and peeking at them, and he had to be told not to. It was their tragedy, the loss of a child, that brought out the voyeur in him, of course, which is a common thread in human experience. People need to look at tragedy so they can try to figure out what it would be like should it happen to them. But this curiosity can turn into voyeurism. My mother felt very strongly that one should not stare at people in distress — at accidents on the highway, for example — and when she saw rubberneckers slowing down to get a good look at the destruction, looking for bodies, she became quite incensed. I'm sure that as grieving parents you may have experienced this — a certain fascination on the part of others — which is an invasion of your privacy and should be resisted. The last thing you need is to become an object of curiosity. The dreadful thing about invasion of privacy is how it turns us into performers in an intimate sphere where we count on honesty. I can't believe that the egging had any connection to your loss: it's just too cruel. Of course you'll be Jessica's mother forever and your loss will heal as you live your life. You certainly touch my soul by writing. Thank you.

Post to the Host:
In the PHC movie DVD special features, Tommy Lee Jones referred to an episode where he laughed his a** off. It was something like "The day the Mongols invaded McDonalds". When was that broadcast? I'd like to hear or read it.

R.D. B.
Pottstown, PA

He may be referring to a story of mine about a Mongol invasion of Chicago and how President Bush the First responded to it. A little satiric bon-bon collected (I think) in We Are Still Married. Or maybe in The Book of Guys. I can't recall the title of the story, sorry. But I do recall that Pottstown is where John O'Hara grew up. Is that not true? I mean to go back and reread some of his stories. Is he still remembered there?