Post to the Host:
Every Saturday I listen to your show, and I love it. The program on April 28 from Columbus, GA was especially enjoyable, since I'm a Southern girl. However, I couldn't believe what I was hearing when you started in on the episode about losing bowel control, and I could't believe how long it lasted. Why should a genius at telling a tale, an English major, on a public radio broadcast, resort to bathroom humor? I sincerely hope it doesn't happen again, and I hope other people let you know they didn't like it either.

I'm sorry my first and only "post" to you should be so negative, Garrison. Please don't do toilet material again! You're too good for that.

Helen C.
Tallahassee, FL

I'm not too good for toilet humor, dear. I don't ever want to be that good. If I were really really good, I suppose I'd be doing whispery interviews with theologians, but I'm in another line of work. I'm sure you're right, that the droopy-pants story went on too long, but I think there was beauty and grace to it. It was suggested by a commercial I heard on the radio on Thursday, advertising a pharmaceutical and then mentioning that side-effects could include "diarrhea, gassiness, and confusion". So in the story a guy took a drug for his spring allergies and wound up loading his pants every time he sneezed, meanwhile he stepped on a skate which stuck to his foot and he went racing down a hill, collided with a baby carriage, wound up with the baby in his arms, was nearly hit by a truck, and narrowly avoided being run over by a fast train. A Buster Keaton movie, with the addition of diarrhea. Not for everyone, surely. But there were ten-year-old boys in the audience who died laughing.

Dear Garrison,
I thought you would be uniquely qualified to help with a small family matter we are having. How do you console a nine-year old writer who has just found out that the short story he submitted to a county-wide competition has gone unrecognized? It was a nice little story about a bear in a silver Mercedes who thwarts the evil intentions of a mad scientist. All in 500 words. But it didn't impress the judges, about which our son is quite disappointed.

As we listen to your show regularly, we thought any advice or words of wisdom you might have would help him pick up his pencil and keep writing. Thanks.

Mike
Chico, CA

A writing contest is a game and you play it for fun. It's the same as in baseball: you'll play better if you love playing the game itself, and if you love the game, you'll accept losing. The game is the beautiful thing, and you'd rather be in the game, and losing, than be in the bleachers watching. I'll bet his story was terrific, and if he's unhappy about losing the contest, he can write another story about the bear in the Mercedes who helps a judge whose car has stalled on a lonely road and who is just about to be attacked by a mad scientist. "How can I ever repay you? You saved my life," said the judge. "HEY! Are you the same bear who was in that story in the contest I just judged?" The bear nodded. "Oh man, am I embarrassed," said the judge. "I loved that story so much, I got excited and spilled coffee all over it and so the other judges weren't able to read it. That's why it didn't win first prize." "Not a problem," said the bear. "I'm all over it. But the charge for this ride to town will be $5,000." The judge thought for a moment. He could hear the mad scientist whooping and yelling in the woods. "How do you spell your name?" he said, pulling out his checkbook.

Post to the Host:
A growing number of us here in Germany are discovering all of the wonderful opportunities to listen to APHC online. I never miss a show. The APHC Internet site therefore is a central steering point for us. So ... In view of this, wouldn't it be a good idea to mention that the APHC movie at long last has opened here in theaters in Germany? It can be seen starting today under the title Robert Altman's "Last Radio Show".

Mark O.
Altershausen, Germany

Thanks for the plug, Mark. I wish I were there to see it myself. I'm in the movie briefly, chewing an apple and listening to Virginia Madsen (an angel) ask me to explain a joke about penguins. If you go to the movie, tell me if the audience gets the jokes, and which ones.

Post to the Host:
I woke up today and heard of the passing of Kurt Vonnegut. I enjoyed his wit, his sarcasm and his unfailingly Christian-like humanism. Mostly I just liked his stories that took me to so many weird places. Of his life I know very little but I seem to remember his lament that novels, or the written whatever, were being ever more marginalized in a society of instant gratification. He touched me with that one. My kids think To Kill A Mockingbird is just an old movie. So I mourn Mr. Vonnegut's passing not only as a hero but as a signpost on my own road through geezerhood.

Bill S.
Fenton MO

I read about Mr. Vonnegut this morning, dead of a head injury from a fall, and have been thinking about him all day too. He was a dark writer and also very mischievous and when you met Kurt, the mischievous stood out. I met him a few times and he had a fine morbid streak, talking about old age or politics or the Publishing World These Days, and he also had a big sense of fun. He came to the N.Y. premiere of the Robert Altman's "A Prairie Home Companion" and seemed in fine form that evening, but was especially graceful at a Paris Review gala at which he was chosen to eulogize his friend George Plimpton. Which he did with great gravity and elegance. I was emceeing and I remember Kurt's irritation at having to wait in the wings for somebody to tell somebody to do something before the show could get started. He could fume with the best of them. He was irascible and said he had written his last book and was all done and it was all over, and then he came out with "Man Without A Country". He had a good ride. He had a lot of fun being successful, I think. And then a graceful decline. One could hope for the same.

Dear Garrison,
This weekend I'm traveling to St. Paul with my family (wife and two children ages 8 and 11) to attend your live broadcast at the Fitz. This is a longstanding dream come true for all four of us and I'm wondering: are there any pre- and post-broadcast activities? Is it a merriment free-for-all at all bars and restaurants near the theatre before and after showtime, or is there a particular well-loved place people go to after the broadcast?

Byron M.
Chapel Hill, NC

First of all, there is snow on the ground here and it may be cold on Saturday, so dress warmly. The show starts around 4:45 and goes on the air at 5, and I imagine those kids will want to eat something pre-show. There's a nice Japanese restaurant, Sakura, a few blocks south of us on St. Peter Street, or an Italian joint Pazzaluna, from either of which you can walk a block to the high bluff of the Mississippi River, very much worth a look, and if it's not too cold and not too late, you could walk across the Wabasha Street bridge to the West Side. Of course you'll want to circle around by Rice Park and say hello to F. Scott Fitzgerald who is standing there in front of the old courthouse.

After the show, I always hang around and talk to people, so hang around. Some people like to go to the St. Paul Grill in the St. Paul Hotel afterward. That's the hotel where out of town guests stay — this week, Frigg, from Norway — and it's good food and there are big windows through which you can look out at the park in the dark with snow in it. Very pretty. The Science Museum is a stone's throw away, overlooking the river, and I think the St. Paul Cathedral up on the hill is always worth looking in. There is a popular Mass on Saturday night around the time of the show. You could hike along Summit Avenue and look at the big houses and when you got tired, you could take the Grand Avenue bus — Grand Avenue is parallel to Summit, a block south — downtown where (I imagine) your car will be parked or you'll be staying.

Hope you enjoy the show. I'll get to work on it right now and try to get it up to standards.

Dear Garrison:
I had the great pleasure of seeing your 3/31 broadcast in person at Town Hall with my wife and two friends. We loved it. The four of us, however, could not understand the on-going exchange of paper (scripts? invoices? contracts?) that goes on throughout the show along with lots of very serious looking conversations between you and the stage manager. What gives? We were all assuming you would have everything ready before 6:00PM but... maybe not!

Best regards,

Tim B.
Metuchen NJ

You are perspicacious indeed when you mention invoices and contracts, sir. I like to keep very close track of every aspect of the show and no detail is too small to engage my interest. Mr. Webster the stage manager is bringing to me invoices from the piano tuner, the sound company, the stagehands' union, the makeup and hairdressers' guild, the limo company, and also our caterer, Brosnan's Prestige Hospitality of — wait a minute — Metuchen — hmmmmm — which regularly overcharges us for mustard and mayo packets that we did not use and though it's a tiny tiny thing, it really burns my bacon. I mean, I am primarily concerned with the quality of the show itself, but something in me rebels against the idea that some bandit from Jersey is skinning us alive on the corned beef and putting in fewer and fewer slices into each sandwich while charging us the same insane price and meanwhile we are being charged for pickles that, I swear this is true, DID NOT COME WITH THE ORDER. Were not there. Not delivered!!! And yet right there on the invoice it says "1 qt dills sliced". Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. Just because we are from Minnesota, do you people think we have DUMMY written on our foreheads? If you cut us, do we not bleed? Anyway, that's what I'm doing on stage with Mr. Webster. Also we're figuring out what we need to cut in order to get off the air on time.

Sir:
I've noticed your periodic references to the town of Millet with a sense of derision and scorn in your voice at its mention.
Did I miss a show where you explain the basis of your attitude? Where did this town go wrong? Your contempt is palpable.

Thank you for your show.

Respectfully:

Paul-Michael N.
Annapolis, MD

People of Lake Wobegon have always looked down on Millet going way back before my day. I suppose the towns were rivals at one time and then my town pulled ahead and Millet languished. People in Millet don't take care of their yards the way people in Lake Wobegon think you should. They don't raise their children right. They keep old wrecked cars in their backyards and old appliances and they sit outdoors in their shirtsleeves and drink beer. They're common. Their children are loutish, cruel, vulgar, and untrustworthy. The list goes on and on. We were told to stay away from those people, and so I have no idea if any of this is actually true: I've avoided Millet for most of my life. Like most contempt, it's based on poor information.

Post to the Host:
Garrison, I am a long time fan of PHC and also a fan of the Twins. I just read that in one of your songs you wrote "Just give me two pillows and a bottle of beer/And the Twins game on radio next to my ear/Some hark to the sound of the loon or the teal/ But I love the voice of Herb Carneal." I was just wondering if you would comment on the loss of this gentle voice.

Steve

Herb Carneal died this week at 84, who was the play-by-play announcer of the Minnesota Twins broadcasts on WCCO radio for forty-some years. He had a very pleasant Southern voice that was a natural for radio: distinctive and immediately recognizable but never abrasive or irritating. He let the game take precedence, wasn't verbose or self-dramatic, rarely had to correct himself, all of which made him outstanding in his field, but he exerted a powerful emotional pull on so many people for whom summer and the smell of fresh-cut grass and a screened porch and the voice of Herb were all bound up together. I met Herb a couple of times and he was very courtly as one might expect a baseball man to be. Herb wrote an autobiography which was pretty boring — he was utterly self-effacing and hadn't a cruel bone in his body, neither of which is good for an author — but as a radio man, he was one of a kind. He was the voice of summer languor. Sitting in a wicker chair on a porch, drinking a beer, wasting your life, loving the cadence of baseball, drifting along with that gentle voice. I wish they'd put a couple Twins games on CDs so that when I'm old, I could be young again now and then.

Dear Garrison,
I am a junior in high school and have just been nominated to run for the position of Honor Council president at my school. I will be asked to speak to the student body about honor and other such matters. I have been thinking about what I will say when the time comes, and I thought that you probably have some great insight in the matter. Or perhaps there is an appropriate story from Lake Wobegon you could suggest? I have been listening to your show every week since I found you on the radio four years ago, so in addition to my question, I just wanted to thank you for providing my family and me with countless hours of old-fashioned, quality entertainment. I hope that you will keep it up for years to come!

Sincerely,

Christopher B.
Memphis, TN

It's good you're thinking about this, Christopher, because you do want to give a good speech. Your classmates have heard plenty of mediocre speeches — the kind in which the speaker starts out by saying what an honor it is and so forth and blah blah blah and there's a lOOOOOOOOng wind-up and then the speech is just a bunch of cliches. Honor is not a cliche, and I think you might start out by thinking about how much we depend on trust in our ordinary lives. Where trust is lost — e.g. at the airport when you are boarding a flight — it is enormously troublesome and expensive and tedious to replace trust with a system of security. In agriculture, a great deal of business is done on the basis of trust — you could look into that. When a farmer sends a load of livestock off with a trucker to go to market, I believe that it's done on the basis of a handshake and trust. In other businesses, the same is true: millions of dollars are committed and transactions accomplished on a handshake. Senator Chuck Hagel of Nebraska spoke to that Sunday morning on TV, in reference to the controversy around Attorney General Gonzales: "We govern with one currency, and that's trust. And that trust is all important. And when you lose or debase that currency, then you can't govern." That might be a starting point for your speech. We've come to accept lying as an inevitable part of politics in this country and what price do we pay for it? We accept that public officials will try to spin stories and manage the news, but at some point, if public trust is lost, their careers are effectively over. Now there's something for a bright young man to think about.