It was on one of those Saturdays, in the very house that now gives my little family shelter from life's storms, that, at the age of about 15 or so, I discovered Lake Woebegone.
Fast forward a few years, I am back in my hometown after a marital spat. I couldn't tell you what it was over, but as far as we both were concerned, it was over. Granny had been gone a few years, but her spirit and her copy of Lake Woebegone lived on with me. On the drive back home "to collect my things" I tuned the dial to public radio. A deep voice embossed with gravel was telling the story of a young newlywed couple, wrestling the mattress they'd tied to their car down the highway, toward their new home. But really it was the story of marriage - all of it - summed up in a box spring.
And it was the gift of unexpected laughter. One of my all-time favorite gifts to receive.
If my memory is correct, that was when I first made the connection between the book(s) and the radio, but it's the kind of memory that feels too recent. It seems like I've just always known Keillor.
Over time, I read each new Keillor book and became a regular listener. I found out my Uncle Roy was a fan and that he listened to GK with Granny's roommate, and my aunt, whom Roy had been lucky enough to marry years after Granny's passing.
We often talked about Prairie Home, Powdermilk Biscuits, the feel-good power of Ketchup and GK's signature red shoes.
When Garrison Keillor released his collection of poems, he helped me be less ashamed of realizing poetry runs in my veins (truly, it is a malady one is born with) In fact, as a writer he has inspired and instructed me in countless ways.
We saw GK in Savannah, just before the release of 'Pontoon' and when I finally checked Pontoon out from the library, I was amazed to realize our live show had been the book, monologued and set to music.
One of my favorite Writer's Almanac episodes was a trifecta of literary proportions: Billy Collins fills in for GK and reads a poem by John Updike about baseball on George Orwell's birthday ... June 25, 2013
(link to episode: https://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php%3Fdate=2013%252F06%252F25.html )
But my most favorite Writer's Almanac episode is from Thursday, April 21, 2022 - John Muir's birthday. I have always felt a deep kindred with Muir if only for answering the mountains' call expediently.
At the time this episode found me, I was walking through an area we call the Greenway. It is a walking trail surrounded by tall trees and as close to a mountain hike as one can get without leaving town.
It was before my surgeries, when my eyesight was failing and I felt so - removed?- from the rest of the world. When one or more senses aren't working, there is an isolation that is hard to describe, but being behind a thick veil, or looking into a darkened mirror, to borrow from the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians, are perfect metaphors.
Again, this man with the unexpected joy.
I learned a lot about John Muir from this less-than-ten-minute snippet, and on this twilight walk in a thicket of trees, I felt re-connected to the world - if only for a moment.
(link to episode: https://www.garrisonkeillor.com/radio/twa-the-writers-almanac-for-april-21-2022/ )
And this song has lived on my playlist for at least the last decade, probably longer if I'd stop to do the math:
Tonight was my second - and likely last - time at a Keillor show. I wasn't the youngest person in the audience this time - my 14 year old daughter was.
Oh, but I do appreciate being surrounded by wisdom and experience.
The tickets were a gift from my always generous dad, who knew I love the "Life Among The Lutherans" author.
As we found our seats, Fisher remarked "Leave it to Papa to pick the best seats in the house."
Yep, that is just the kind of thing Papa likes to do (Thank you, Mom and Dad!) Any closer and we'd have had to look up his nostrils.
