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+
The virus is highly contagious
And for people of elderly ages,
It’s an object of dread
As we go to bed
And we pray, Dear Lord, do not page us:
I’m old and yet I’m
In need of more time,
Though I know about sin and its wages.
Have mercy, I pray,
And then it is day,
The coffee’s on. How advantageous.
Yesterday was bright and warm. Rain was forecast and didn’t fall. The finches are building a nest somewhere below us. At 7 p.m. the neighborhood erupted in cheers and applause and Jenny tells me I am a very good whooper. Hamburgers for supper on the balcony, a rare concession on her part. I love a vegan who can bend. A little mother/daughter verbal sparring from the kitchen and I realize that I find raised voices unbearable and I ask them to stop and they do. I grew up in a quiet household and went through two failed marriages that nonetheless ended quietly and now I’m in a peaceful and happy one. It’s just the way it should be. Maia is engrossed in a play she’s making with friends on Zoom and Jenny gets into intense phone conversations and I love being surrounded by engaged people. Today I send my novel THE WOBEGON VIRUS off to a reader and await her report, meanwhile I make a few last fixes on the memoir. The novel comes out this fall, the memoir this winter. Exciting. I’m a lucky man to still love working but I don’t expect luck to go on and on and the day will come when I devote myself entirely to indolence and admiring the ambitiousness of others. That’s the real reason to go to the opera, to see hundreds of highly trained people who worked hard for a dozen years to get here and now they’re at a fever pitch of concentration trying to attain a level of perfection that is impossible, and I sit in a seat and do absolutely nothing. My wife sits in the viola section, fully engaged for two hours, and all I do is clap now and then. My urge to perform on a stage diminishes by the day, thank God. Now and then, a tremor of ambition, but this is the great gift of the pandemic: it’ll let a whole generation of performers sit down and shut up and let a younger bunch have their day. My goal in life is to be a lazy old man and I am getting closer and closer to it. Maybe I’ll write a book about it, called Let’s Stay Home. Bless the day. Be good to each other.