Las Vegas, NV
May 20, 2020
Garrison Keillor hits Las Vegas with a new solo show!
April 18, 2020
Garrison Keillor comes to the Rochester Civic Theatre for a night of stories, songs, poetry, and humor. Tickets $50 and up
February 19, 2020
Garrison Keillor with Heather Masse at the Dakota. Night 2 of 2. Tickets $30+
February 18, 2020
Garrison Keillor with Heather Masse at the Dakota. Night 1 of 2. Tickets $30+
Isolation has gone well for us.
Stay home: what’s there to discuss?
It doesn’t hurt
To be introvert-
Ed, secretive, silent, mysterious.
There are two things in the kitchen too high for my wife to reach without standing on a chair, a bread pan and a big copper kettle, and she finds me wherever I am and says, “I need you.” It’s gratifying to be needed, even if my role is small. I do empty the dishwasher when I think of it and I am sometimes useful as a comforter and a conversational partner and now and then I make her laugh, a genuine laugh not a laugh of ridicule. But this is small potatoes to my need of her. She runs our lives and without her I’d be living in a small mobile home in the woods of northern Minnesota at the end of a long dirt road with “Keep Out” signs along it and an aggressive dog and be eating Spam and beans heated in a microwave. I come from a large taciturn family of apocalyptic Christians and so I have no social skills whatsoever. When I do Zoom chats I am always astonished when my face comes on the screen. It’s a face that belongs on a magazine article about depression or the post office wall under the word “WANTED” (which she makes me feel, but in a good way). So it isn’t troubling to find myself alone in the kitchen — isolation is my natural milieu. And then she walks in and the day begins.
Watched a Zoom comedy show last night put on by Flappers, a club in L.A. You buy a ticket online and click in and there’s the comedian working in her bedroom and she can hear the audience, laughter, heckling, applause, and it’s a whole new medium. You pay $14, the comedian earns some dough, and you get to sit at home in your pajamas and laugh. What’s the problem? There is none.
I did a Zoom chat with two poets who’ve written poems about the pandemic. It was good, if I say so myself, which I just did. No admission charge. I’ll do it again. The pleasure of conversation is very striking to a guy brought up taciturn. You start to think that other things —- ballet, opera, dining out — can wait, but what’s crucial is social contact and maybe when it resumes, we’ll look at it differently, be more grateful for it, take more chances. I might be convinced to tell the story of the girl who, when we were in the fifth grade, challenged me to wrestle, and I did and I was content to have her sit on top of me, and thus I learned that I was hetero. Wrestling with boys was sort of terrifying. Well, now I’ve gone and told it. I hope she’s okay wherever she is. In Morning Prayer today, we recited: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving; go into his courts with praise, give thanks to him and call upon his Name. For the Lord is good his mercy is everlasting; and his faithfulness endures from age to age.” Have a joyful day.