April 27, 2019
Garrison Keillor celebrates National Poetry Month with poems & song at a benefit for Performing Arts of Woodstock.
CROONERS SUPPER CLUB
April 14, 2019
At 76 years old, Garrison Keillor makes his solo nightclub debut! 5:00 p.m.
March 28, 2019
Garrison Keillor heads to Steele County for a solo performance to benefit the Historical Society. 7:30 p.m.
February 24, 2019
“Old Friends” Garrison Keillor, Christine DiGiallonardo, Richard Dworsky reunite at Crooners. Shows at 5 p.m. and 8 p.m.
Fergus Falls, MN
February 23, 2019
“Old Friends” Garrison Keillor, Christine DiGiallonardo, Richard Dworsky reunite at A Center for the Arts. 7:30 p.m.
by William Butler Yeats
I whispered, ‘I am too young,’
And then, ‘I am old enough’;
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
‘Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.’
Ay, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
“Brown Penny” by William Butler Yeats. Public domain.
It was on this day in 1960 that Penguin Books was acquitted in an obscenity case. D.H. Lawrence’s (books by this author) novel Lady Chatterley’s Lover was the book in question, and Penguin had attempted to publish a paperback edition of the novel, which had been published in 1928 and banned in England ever since.
Obscenity laws had been in place in England since 1868. The definition of obscene was anything that might “deprave and corrupt those whose minds are open to such immoral influences.” Lawrence knew he didn’t stand a chance with Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which was the story of a Constance Chatterley, the wife of a paralyzed, impotent lord; she has an affair with the gamekeeper on her estate. So he self-published the novel in Florence, and died in France in self-imposed exile two years later, in 1930. At the time of his death, few people took him seriously as a literary figure. One exception was the novelist E.M. Forster, who called him “the greatest imaginative novelist of our generation.”
In 1959, England’s obscenity law was redefined, with more leeway for material that could be proven to have artistic merit. Sir Allen Lane, the founder of Penguin, saw his chance to include Lady Chatterley’s Lover in a D.H. Lawrence series. Penguin announced its intention to publish the book, and the government announced its intention to take them to court.
The press lined up at 7:45 a.m. on the morning of October 27th to get into the first day of the trial, and Penguin’s lawyer, Michael Rubinstein, handed out illegal copies of Lady Chatterley’s Lover with the covers of a different Lawrence novel, so that they could follow the proceedings better.
Dozens of writers had volunteered to defend Lawrence’s novel, among them Aldous Huxley, Bertrand Russell, Doris Lessing, Irish Murdoch, and Laurence Durrell. But in general, the defense chose safer, more mainstream witnesses — priests, professors, schoolteachers, journalists. Some of them had been asked to testify for the prosecution but instead had volunteered their services for the defense. The most famous novelist was mild-mannered E.M. Forster, who once again publicly stood up for Lawrence.
The defense called 35 witnesses, all of whom strongly defended the novel. Despite the prosecution’s aggressive questioning and reading of particularly lurid passages, the defendants all strictly maintained that it was a good, moral novel. One young graduate repeatedly insisted that the novel was “puritanical” at heart. A bishop claimed that Lawrence was portraying sex as sacred, and when he was asked if he thought it was a book that Christians should read, he said yes, it was. One of the headlines that evening was A BOOK ALL CHRISTIANS SHOULD READ.
In the end, it didn’t matter how many obscene passages the prosecution read aloud, or that the judge suggested to the jury that they deliver a guilty verdict. The trial wasn’t even about Lady Chatterley’s Lover as much as it was about a new era, a move away from old Victorian values and toward a society in which sexual matters could be discussed freely.
It took the jury less than three hours to reach their verdict, acquitting Penguin Books. People lined up outside bookstores before they opened, and the first edition of 200,000 copies sold out in the first few minutes. Many booksellers said they could have sold thousands more that day. Within a year, Lady Chatterley’s Lover sold 1 million copies.
Today is the official birthday of cheerleading, which began in 1898.
In the 1880s, Princeton University supporters frequently cheered in unison from the stands. In 1884, a Princeton graduated named Thomas Peebles moved to Minneapolis and shared Princeton’s cheering ideas.
November 2nd, 1898 was the University of Minnesota football team’s final game against Northwestern University. Minnesota had been losing games, and the student newspaper published an editorial and said, “Any plan that would stir up enthusiasm for athletics would be helpful.”
So a group of young men from the University of Minnesota decided to lead the whole crowd in cheering, and on this day in 1898, Johnny Campbell picked up a megaphone, stood in front of the crowd of spectators, and directed them to yell: “Rah, Rah, Rah! Ski-U-Mah! Hoo-Rah! Hoo-Rah! Varsity! Varsity! Minn-e-so-tah!” The crowd shouted so enthusiastically that Minnesota was inspired and won the game 17-6.
For 25 years, cheerleading was an activity only for men. In 1923, the University of Minnesota created the first female cheerleading squad, but it wasn’t until the 1940s that women became the majority of cheerleaders. These days, cheerleading is 97 percent women at a high school level. Cheer is still not considered an official sport in many states, but it is a dangerous one — of the 3 million female high school athletes, 12 percent are cheerleaders, but it accounts for 65 percent of catastrophic injuries.
It was on this day in 1948 that Harry S. Truman managed one of the great election upsets in American history, beating the Republican governor of New York, Thomas E. Dewey, for the presidency. Truman had been doing badly in the polls in part because he’d come into office after Franklin Roosevelt’s sudden death on April 12, 1945, and he’d never really lived up to Roosevelt’s reputation. Truman wasn’t well known, and people painted him as a country bumpkin from Missouri, with no college degree. Republicans took control of the Congress in the mid-term elections in 1946, and factions of the Democratic Party were splitting off into the Progressive Party and the Dixiecrats. Two months before the election, the pollster Elmo Roper announced that he was going to stop surveying voters, because Truman was so far behind.
But Truman didn’t give up. He set out on his Whistle Stop Tour, with a private railroad car outfitted with a sound system so that he could pull into small towns and give speeches directly from the train. That fall of 1948, he traveled 21,928 miles, just short of the distance around the world, and he delivered more than 300 speeches, including the first speech ever delivered by an American president to a black audience in Harlem.
On Election Day, he went to bed early, after a ham sandwich and a glass of milk. When he woke up around midnight and turned on the radio, they were reporting that he was ahead in the popular vote by more than 1 million, but the announcer said that he was still undoubtedly beaten. It turned out that he had won 303 electoral votes to Dewey’s 189. Not a single news organization in the country had predicted the election correctly. Two days after the election, Truman was making an appearance in St. Louis and somebody handed him a copy of the Chicago Tribune with the headline, “DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN.” He held the paper over his head, and that became the source of the famous photograph. An unsigned editorial in the conservative New York Sun said of Truman’s upset victory, “You just have to take off your hat to a beaten man who refuses to stay licked.”
It’s the birthday of the frontiersman Daniel Boone, born on this day in 1734 near Reading, Pennsylvania. When he was young, his family moved to North Carolina, where Daniel loved to hunt in the forest. He educated himself by taking books with him on his hunting trips. He went on long hunting and exploring expeditions, and he crossed the Cumberland Gap into Kentucky.
Even during his lifetime, Boone was a figure of legend. He was captured by Indians, and he lived with them as an adopted son before he escaped.
Daniel Boone was a man of few words, so his biographers took free rein and invented long, eloquent speeches for him. They also embellished the facts — these biographies have Boone wrestling with bears or swinging away from Indians on vines. He became so famous as a pioneer hero that the poet Lord Byron included him as a character in his epic poem Don Juan, in 1823.
Daniel Boone, who said, “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”