An old man must choose his vices carefully and I gave up smoking and drinking when the thrill was gone but if I were offered a Last Meal the night before I swing from the gallows, steak and eggs would be it and possibly why not? We shall meet our loved ones there. I come from fundamentalists who avoided rhythmic singing lest it lead to dancing but there was Mother Julie dancing like a cheerleader in the aisle, and I walked home, a pile of emotional rubble. Pigs have provided heart valves for people and now kidneys are a possibility and who knows?
Maybe knees and hearts and brain tissue. Donor pigs, of course, would need to be treated with deference. Donor pigs would live in comfortable condos with clean mud baths and be served individual meals on plates and would be transported aboard buses, not in livestock trucks. This goes without saying. I love October and I hate to see it pass so quickly. My love and I ate dinner outdoors last Friday and it felt like the Last Time and as an old man I find Lasts rather painful.
It pains me to see the wave of puritanism in the arts, arts organizations competing to see who can write the most militant mission statements declaring their dedication to Equality and Inclusivity and Anti-Elitism, which tells me clearly that the end is near. Art is elitist because some people are better singers than almost anyone else and some plays astonish and others only fill the time, and if equality is now the goal, then where do we go to experience the extraordinary?
Art then becomes ideology, and for astonishment we must wait for the next blizzard or thunderstorm. A Manhattan thunderstorm is worth waiting for, but still. We have about twenty big dinner plates and twenty small plates and when was the last time we sat eighteen guests down to dinner in this little apartment?
Not since Jesus was in the third grade. I have eight suits in my closet: when did I last get dressed up? The number of unread books on our shelves would sink a pontoon boat. And why the whiskey glasses? Nobody in this household drinks whiskey. At the moment, I am looking at a galley of a new book of mine as sent by a graphic designer named David and I am stunned by the elegance of it, which makes my own words seem almost of classical quality, which makes me want to revise the work to bring it up to the quality of the design, meanwhile my crew of overseers is firing off memos insisting the book be finished by Friday.
The book is set in a small town in Minnesota and I feel that a good street fight, an insurrection of farmers versus townsfolk, with a lot of hacking and clubbing and shouting and cursing, would add some interest and maybe also a good gas explosion. Terrorists do this all the time, so why not novelists? We are not accepting new poetry at this time.
For questions, please contact twa garrisonkeillor. For questions related to items you have ordered from our store , please contact orders garrisonkeillor. If you are hosting a show with Garrison, please feel free to use the below press photos for marketing, as well as the below short biography.
Promo video for purpose of booking is available here. He and his wife Jenny Lind Nilsson live in Minneapolis, not far from the YMCA where he was sent for swimming lessons at age 12 after his cousin drowned, and he skipped the lessons and went to the public library instead and to a radio studio to watch a noontime show with singers and a band. Thus, our course in life is set. Comfortable is his specialty. Read the first chapter of Garrison's memoir here.
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Elbow room was limited. By my count, more than people turned out to hear the one-time prince of public radio spin his tales of predicament, perseverance, lust and love. I was most familiar with Keillor while living in Minneapolis, where I worked as a reporter at the Star Tribune newspaper. His masterful storytelling, delivered in a dulcet baritone, captured the imagination of a generation of public radio listeners. A one-man composite of humorist, author, bard and balladeer, he was seen by some as a modern-day Mark Twain.
Keillor was forced off the stage in late after accusations surfaced that he had sexually harassed women he worked with. In his denial of the allegations, Keillor was short on contrition. But his side of the story has yet to come. Keillor says he is now writing a memoir. Meanwhile, in the past few months, Keillor has quietly stepped back into the spotlight, playing small venues in Minnesota and Wisconsin. Wisconsin has been friendly turf over the years. He has performed often in Milwaukee and Madison and once owned a log-house hideaway on 11 acres along the St.
Croix River in western Wisconsin. I button-holed Keillor at the East Side cafe as we stood in line to order tea. The single-digit temperature outside seemed made-to-order for the thick-blooded Minnesotan. Standing nearly six and a half feet tall, dressed in a light gray suit that matched a full head of graying hair replete with the signature tuft hanging over his forehead , Keillor was hard to miss.
As we waited, customers floated by, starstruck but careful not to intrude or interrupt, solid Lake Wobegon traits. Affable, approachable, Keillor told me how things have changed for him. We shared thoughts about family, about writing, about the state of the newspaper industry. And we silently danced around the issue of sexual misconduct.
War and Conflict. Category Event. Era Before European Contact: Pre Colonization: Revolution and a New Nation: Expansion and Reform: Civil War and Reconstruction: Development of an Industrial United States: Home Index Topics African Americans.
Back to top Prairie Home Companion. Cite Dill, Emma. Facebook Twitter. Twitter Facebook. Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3. First published: January 24, Last modified: September 15, Bibliography Related Resources Bibliography. The Keillor Reader. New York City: Viking Penguin, Garrison Keillor. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, Storrs, Tim. Secondary Boeni, Meg.
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