Dear Garrison,
I HATE singing in church. I just can't stand it. I am afraid when I sing in church that everyone will hear a shrill noise, turn around, and disdainfully stare me down as I attempt to sing some 19th century hymn. I attended the 12/23 show at the Town Hall, however, and found myself joyfully singing along with the crowd without fear of criticism. I'm not sure if it was you, Odetta, or the Powdermilk Biscuits, but for the first time in years I was not afraid to sing in public. Thanks for a lovely Christmas show. And thanks for inspiring me to sing.

Sincerely,

Alana C.-F.
New York, NY

It's dark in Town Hall and that helps and of course Odetta is inspiring. She is 76 and has that sweet steely voice and you listen to her and you feel like you'd do anything for that woman. So when I asked the audience to sing for Odetta, they all did, including you. It wasn't for ourselves that we did it, it was for her. She sat, head bowed, and listened to "O Holy Night" and "Silent Night" and sang along with you.

GK-
I had the privilege of attending the 12/16 performance of APHC at the Town Hall in NYC. As this was the 2nd night of Chanukah, there were several musical tributes to the Festival of Lights — my favorites coming from the lips of Rich Dworsky. Not only were they beautifully performed, but I was quite impressed with Rich's Israeli accented Hebrew. Where did he learn such eloquent Hebrew linguistics?

Jeff W.
Fair Lawn, NJ

(Response from Music Director Rich Dworsky)

Hi Jeff. Rich Dworsky here. Thanks for your kind compliments. As a youngster, I went to Hebrew school in the afternoons after public school. But the only Hebrew I retain from those days is pretty rudimentary. My sister, Susie, is a rabbi and speaks a wonderful, fluent Hebrew and coaches me as needed. And I have absorbed the pronunciation listening to my family and friends who live in Israel. I can do the Hebrew "resh" (the R sound) in the back of my throat especially well. If you get your uvula flapping to sound like Eartha Kitt when she purred like a cat, you're on the right track. Best wishes and Happy Chanukah to you and yours!

-Rich Dworsky

Post to the Host:
Heard your 12/16 show on KUHF. As always, I enjoyed the show. The highlight (in my view) was the portion of the show with Billy Collins. I've always enjoyed poetry, but have always been left with an after-taste of depression (at least with contemporary poets). Clearly Collins has a wonderful sense of humor, and he has no fear of demonstrating that. Perfect for your show!

Thank you,
David

So right, David, and we have to encourage these few poets such as Billy Collins, Tony Hoagland, Barbara Hamby, Denise Duhamel, and others, who dare to be witty. Jerry Douglas sat backstage and loved Billy's stuff, and stagehands perked up, and all of us got a big lift from his presence. The dead dog poem was a gem, the "suddenly" poem was a big hit — and all written with more style and cadence than the morose narcissistic complaint that you find depressing. ("I sit alone at the window/trying to write this poem/and suddenly the sky darkens and/ I see that my life makes no sense") Being witty and entertaining, they will always be suspect in the poetry world. But they'll have the satisfaction of knowing that they made us laugh and thereby made it less necessary for us to sit down and write a poem about sitting alone at the window.

Dear Garrison Keillor,
The lewd skit tonight with the liquids in the airport trashcan disgusted us to the point that we had to turn off the radio (particularly frustrating since I was quite fascinated by the tuba jazz band).

My wife and I have memories of listening to your show and stories for more than 20 years. Please do not make us stop by continuing with such inappropriate humor.

Sincerely,
Marriner M
Lafayette IN

It's all Fred Newman's fault, Mr. M. The script itself was not lewd but the squirting and squorting sounds were very suggestive. Sounds of viscosity can arouse a powerful reaction in listeners' minds, and that's what happened there. We have fined Fred $500 for lewd conduct and told him never to do oils or lotions ever again.

Post to the Host:
I was shocked and deeply disappointed to hear "don't pick your butt," etc., in a song on your program. This is what I heard this morning, Sunday, 12/10/06, as I listened on KERA radio in Dallas, TX. Isn't there enough potty humor and vulgarity in the media? I though you had more class than this. Please consider setting the bar higher.

Michele A.
Carrollton, TX

Did you really hear the song as "Don't Pick Your Butt"? That's interesting. I wrote it as "Don't Scratch Your Butt" and the reason the New York audience got such a kick out of it is that, doggone it, you see men doing that in New York all the time. Reaching back and scratching and adjusting their underwear. It's vulgar. And it's also funny. I see people do it and I just have to laugh. But "Don't Pick Your Butt" is really gross and not something I would've come up with. That's your idea, not mine.

Post to the Host:
We listened to your broadcast today and found the "Scratch your butt" song very long and quite disgusting. But we stayed with you, waiting to recover, and then....

We were shocked by your treatment of "Imagine," so close to the anniversary of John Lennon's death, so near to the place where it happened. Perhaps it was meant to cauterize, or to lighten the burden we have carried since that terrible day in 1980, or to tell us to just get on with our lives — as if we hadn't. But it just shocked us, and for the first time ever in all these years, we turned your program off.

I hope that you will not do a similar re-working of "Abraham, Martin, and John," should you find yourself in Washington, Memphis, Dallas, or Los Angeles, around the anniversaries of their deaths.

And sure, we'll be back... but with a saddened perspective now. In the meantime, please imagine all the people, holding on to a beautiful dream, and not needing to have it further tarnished.

Sincerely,
Larry O.
Farmington, Iowa

I was doing an early morning show in St. Paul after the news came that John Lennon had been killed and sat there playing his songs on a classical-music station and taking phone calls from listeners. I think about him everytime I pass Central Park West and 72nd Street. Karan Casey and I had just sung "In My Life" on the broadcast and I did the parody of "Imagine" because it was funny. It was the sort of innocent song John Lennon enjoyed. "You may think I'm a weiner/But I'm not the only one./There are hundreds of hot dogs/Going around in big white buns." John Lennon died a tragic death but he is not a plaster saint and after twenty-six years I would think one could do a light-hearted parody of "Imagine" ("Imagine there's no smoking....."). How many years is someone supposed to be dead before you can make comic references to them?

We've done Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, Shakespeare, Hank Williams, Jack Kerouac, Truman Capote, etc. — what's the rule here? As for "Abraham, Martin, and John," it is beyond parody. As for "the burden" you have carried since that terrible day in 1980 — I think you're being a little dramatic.

Post to the Host:
I recently was able to purchase the Prairie Home Companion DVD which led to the purchase of the soundtrack (a little tougher find than normal being in South Korea). Have you ever considered doing an album of bawdry and risqué folk music — the kind of songs sung by miners and soldiers and cowboys over a round of beverages at a favorite watering hole after a hard day's work?

I understand the pressure you undoubtedly feel from your fine sponsors like Powdermilk Biscuits to keep a certain standard of morality, but unfortunately, there is probably an entire generation who heard "I used to work in Chicago" for the first time when Dusty and Lefty gave an impromptu verse at the start of the movie. There is a certain art to a song filled with double entendres and with fewer young Americans holding jobs where they get their hands filthy from hard work, I fear the art form is dying.

Surely the lyrics can't be worse than what is on popular radio today - and there is a certain dubious honor of releasing an album with a parental advisory warning. Or so I'm told.

John H.
Tongduchon, Korea

I'm glad you enjoyed "I used to work in Chicago," John. I once sang that for an audience at the Steppenwolf Theater in Chicago for an evening of bawdy humor and though the show was advertised as bawdy, the audience seemed uncomfortable. They laughed but it was uneasy laughter. I think they didn't want to hear that song sung by me: it just conflicted with how they saw me. The audience at the "Prairie Home Companion" movie, however, laughed themselves sick when Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly sang the same song. So I won't be making an album of bawdy songs.

Dear Mr. Keillor,
Greetings. I am a former Minnesotan currently living in New Mexico. I am writing a Bundt Cook Book for the Minnesota Historical Society. Do you have any Bundt stories, jokes, or memories you would be willing to share? Also-what is your favorite Bundt? Hope you are well. We all enjoy your show-particularly our nine year old who quotes the Ketchup people regularly. Take care.

Susanna S.

(Response from Mrs. Sundberg, Bundt expert)

Oh, Susanna, I don't know about Mr. Keillor but I will confess I've had my issues with Bundt cakes over the years. Really. Seems most of them I've made have come up a bit on the dry side and there they sit, half-eaten and nothing to brag about. However, there is one Bundt cake I've found turns out amazingly moist and just right every time. It's always been my father's favorite cake, and my mother has made it on many a special occasion. The original recipe called for an orange cake mix, but you don't find such a thing anymore so I use a yellow cake mix and it works just fine.

My mother calls it "Harvey Wallbanger Cake." Now, don't let the name mislead you. This cake is intoxicating only in flavor, and if you're feeling something afterward, it's all in your mind. Which is why I've taken to calling it "It's All In Your Mind Cake." It was at a family reunion some years back when I brought three of these cakes. The reunion was at a park, and it rained hard all day, so we spent most of our time in a building built for such purposes. There were tables and a small kitchen so we set up camp and had a good ol' time. Someone brought a karaoke machine, and that afternoon of all the cousins got a bit carried away. To say they were giddy is an understatement. The aunts got annoyed after a while and blamed my cake, as it does contain a decent amount of alcohol. I found the idea ridiculous, and said, in defense of my cake, "It's all in your mind, Ladies."

So here we go.

Harvey Wallbanger Cake
(It's All In Your Mind Cake)

1 yellow cake mix
1 small box instant vanilla pudding
4 eggs
1/2 cup oil
Combine cake mix and pudding mix;
add eggs and oil and mix well.
Add 4 oz. Galliano
1 oz. vodka
4 oz. orange juice

Pour into a greased and floured 10-inch Bundt pan. Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.

For a lovely frosting, mix 1 oz. each of Galliano, vodka and orange juice together in a bowl. (Don't add more than one ounce of each. Trust me. It gets a bit overpowering.) Add powdered sugar and stir until desired consistency.

Frost cooled cake as you wish.
Serve warm.

(Note: I keep my recipe for this one taped to the bottle of Galliano in the top cupboard. Just so I know.)

Enjoy!!