Post to the Host:
I recently watched the 1945 Gary Cooper western spoof "Along Came Jones," in which he plays Melody Jones, probably the most incompetent cowboy in the west. His sidekick, George, played by William Demarest is the one with brains.

I was struck by how the dialogue presages Dusty and Lefty. Such as:

"You always want to shoot them in their right eye. It spoils their aim."

"If there's anything in the world I like, it's getting saved from being
shot."

George: How many verses does that song have?

Melody: Oh, about a hundred. But I only remember about 90.

I'd just like to know: is this the source for your two characters?

Herb R.
Greenville, S.C.

Nope. Dusty and Lefty sprang from a story I wrote called "Lonesome Shorty." A lonesome cowboy who had contrary urges and couldn't live with people and couldn't live without them. I split him in two. But the movie sounds like one I should watch.

It was a birthday I had dreaded for months,
The threshold to Ancient & Historic,
Brooding over how I was so young once
And never would be again (alas, poor Yorick),
And then came the day itself, so very ordinary,
Quiet, dappled with sun, delightful. (And swift.)
One fine plain day on our excellent prairie,
And the ordinariness was its great gift.
Nothing happened. Coffee, fried eggs, and bacon,
A hot shower, the ordinary stuff of happiness,
To which I hope every morning to awaken
Until one day I don't, which is not for me to guess.
You turn thirty, forty, fifty, and then (O my God) sixty-five,
And it's all the same: to be (simply, deliciously) alive.

The Hon. G Keillor,
We now get your show on Australia's Radio National on Sunday night at 7 pm. Sunday evening is now so different. I relax with some good Aussie red, a comfortable chair in front of the fire and turn on a beautiful radio. And there you are from across the sea. Public radio here is some of the best in the world and you have made it better. Many thanks. It is wonderful to have you at home.

Robin E.
Adelaide, Australia

I had heard that Radio National was carrying the show but that was only the word from management, which doesn't always have a grasp on the reality of the situation, and it's good to get confirmation from the rank and file. And that's a lovely picture — the listener by the fireside, a glass of red wine, the good people of Lake Wobegon gossiping in the Chatterbox Cafe — except what is this beautiful radio? I imagine a big wooden tabletop model with Corinthian pillars on the side and pyramids and a marble owl. In my kitchen there's one of those utilitarian shoebox-sized radios with a CD player in it. Mostly I listen to radio in the car, but I never have far to drive, so it's always brief. The last time I sat in a chair with a glass of red wine in front of a fire and listened to the radio? I can't even remember. (Well, the red wine is gone for me now.) So I envy you a little. But I have this image firmly in mind and it will flash back the next time the band plays the Tishomingo Blues.

Post to the Host:
The subject of Little League baseball chatter, i.e., "hey battah-battah" and "we want a pitcher, not a belly itcher," has come under scrutiny lately and it's been suggested that to eliminate it would be a good thing since it leads to verbal taunting of the opponent. I recall an essay of yours entitled "Attitude" which had to do with how a ballplayer, even an amateur softball player such as yourself, conducts himself on the ballfield. In it, you stressed the importance of chatter, spitting, rubbing dirt, etc. Would you continue to stand by that assertion or now, being the parent of a youngster who might soon if not already be involved in organized sports, would you reconsider the value of baseball chatter?

Jim S.
Chicago

Hey hey letter poster, stick your fingers in the toaster!!! Chicago, Chicago, what can I say? It's not New York and it's not LA. Chatter and insult are part of the game, Jim: that's how you know it's not golf. Dignified men sit in the stands and the umpire calls a strike and the men yell, "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?" They bellow and boo and holler, "You're missing a good game, Ump!" and things are earthier and funnier. Of course Little League is different, being for the pleasure of children and all, and you don't want oafish parents embarrassing the kids, but I'd hesitate to squash the players from expressing themselves. The verbal harassment I've heard on ballfields doesn't rise to the level of "taunting," it's all pretty formulaic stuff, and it's simply meant as a bond with your teammates and a way to work off some nervousness. My youngster is nine and has a pretty good arm and a good eye but her competitive urge is low, so I doubt we'll be pushing her into Little League. I wouldn't want to be the umpire who has to stifle whispering and muttering among the infielders. On the other hand, anybody who taunts my child — I will follow them home and put giant fruit bats in their porch and kill their grass. I will haunt them for years. I will never forgive. I will make their lives pure misery. Next question?

Mr. Keillor,
My family is not especially creative, so we are a little baffled by our six-year-old daughter's sudden desire to write. We listen to your show religiously as a family, so we think she may have been inspired. You have touched a young listener. What follows are a few of her poems.

A Time for Peace
By: Alex S .

A big bridge
A boat floats by
A bird chirps
What a peaceful place to be

A small flower
A big garden
A still pond
A time for love
A time for giving
A time for peace

A small house
A little garden
A beautiful scene

A time for love
A time for giving
A time for peace

This Ancient Pond
By: Alex S .

This ancient pond here
A frog jumps in
The pond
The sound of water

Best wishes,

Vicky S .
Boise, ID

I'm impressed by any six-year-old who wants to write poems and am sort of knocked out by a little girl who comes up with this series of still images and the phrase "ancient pond" — it's all to be encouraged but without being too dramatic about it, if you know what I mean. Writing poetry is a lovely normal thing. You don't want to make the child think she's thereby Odd and Eccentric and obligated to wear capes and tie her hair back tight and wear black eye shadow.

I wrote a poem about your city once, that goes: "There once was a girl who loved Boise/Because it was peaceful, not noisy/And honest and godly/And no one spoke oddly/As they did around Newark, New Joisey." But "ancient pond" is better.

A note from Garrison Keillor:

After the tragic collapse of the Interstate bridge over the Mississippi, scores of you have e-mailed to ask if we're all accounted for and all right, and so far as we can tell, the answer seems to be yes. We're on a relaxed summer schedule in August and many of the staff are taking days off. Life is fragile, though, and there are plenty of reminders. The daughter of a musician who's been on the show since the early days was just shot in Cape Town, South Africa, by a young man who wanted her knapsack. The bullet passed within a millimeter of her heart and grazed a lung. She is expected to recover. Grandma has flown in to help care for the daughter's infant child. And we think of the rescue workers who are doing the dangerous work of recovery even now — may God watch and preserve them.

Dear Garrison,
Recently, I read a newspaper article that described a wired generation of young people who are out of touch with nature. If I recall correctly, a disease name was coined for them. These young ones suffered from "nature deficit disorder."

In thinking about this, I realized that we have neighbors with 2 children ... one in middle school and the other in elementary school. I never see these kids outside. I'm outside a lot ... gardening, mowing, walking our dog 4 miles a day, reading on the deck in the evening, etc. During all this time outside, I never see these kids or any other kids that live in our area. I only see other dog walkers, serious bikers (the spandex crowd) and serious runners ... none of them kids or teens. We live in almost a rural area. You live in a large city (not as big as Minneapolis but still big). What do you see happening i n St. Paul? Do you think "nature deficit disorder" might be a real problem now and in the future?

Sincerely,

Marilyn S.
Eau Claire, WI

In St. Paul, Marilyn, I see a lot of empty parks and playgrounds, which seems to bear out your concern. I suppose that kids of working families are in some sort of day care, and that older kids spend a good deal of time online or playing video games, but I don't know about this first hand. My kid loves to be outdoors, shooting baskets in the driveway, swinging, and for three hours a day, or four if she can swing it, she loves to be in a big swimming pool with other kids, paddling around and jibber-jabbering with other little girls and showing off on the diving board. But she has a full-time mother who wouldn't allow her to camp indoors. My hunch is that parents have grown more paranoid over the years and don't feel easy about letting kids run free as you and I ran free when we were kids. I used to play in a wooded ravine with other boys going back to when I was six a nd seven and it was out of our parents' sight and, I think, out of mind too. My mother was worried about drowning and warned us not to go near the river, which we did all the time anyway, but with caution. I don't recall hearing stories about children being abducted or abused by marauding strangers, as we hear nowadays, stories that prey on people's minds and maybe make them over-protective. We can't lock them in a castle tower. Life without risk is not a healthy life.

Greetings, Mr. Keillor:
Your show has become a part of my and my wife's lives. For one thing, it reminds me of my formative years in the Connecticut River Valley. My wife and I just spent the day hiking through the woods of Sturbridge and came home, cracked open a nice, cold, locally-brewed Hefeweizen and sat down to listen to Guy Noir go toe-to-toe with poet Billy Collins in the hotel room of a struggling Minnesotan poet. That, to us, is the perfect day. Thank you. You have given those of us who feel rather inundated with the morosity of modern existence something to look forward to — Saturday evening at 6:00 on NPR — A Prairie Home Companion. Please don't ever stop.

Shannon W.
Warren, MA.

Glad you like the show and surely the hike in the woods does a lot to improve the show, and probably the cold beer helps too. I don't think about stopping. Did that once, back in '87, and it was a big mistake. Like driving your car over a cliff just for the experience. As for Billy Collins, he is a classy guy, in addition to being America's Best-Known Living Poet, and it's fun to write a part for him in a script — how often do you get to put words in the mouth of the Poet Laureate? Don't be inundated by morosity, though. There's plenty of high ground available.