A Prairie Home Enigma

Friend Harry and I had some offline talk about Garrison Keillor, parts of which will surely show up in our respective blogs. Harry said listening to A Prairie Home Companion made him feel as if here were crashing a private gathering. I, on the other hand, immediately related. I thought, "These are my people" and I became a dedicated member of the Keillor cult following. I suspect that those reactions are typical. No middle ground about Lake Wobegon. You either love it and become one with it or you stand back and scratch your head trying to figure out why the Public Radio Show has become an institution and the tall Minnesotan is some kind of broadcast icon. One might at first think I relate to it because I come from very rural Michigan in the '30s. But hold everything, Keillor has been the darling of young, liberal college types as well. New Yorkers love him. Go figure. The Garrison Keillor phenomenon has already been analyzed to death by minds much greater than mine, so I try hard not to rehash what's already been written.

A most fascinating thing about the BBC's broadcast that Harry heard, apparently a heavily edited one hour version of the two hour presentation, is that they changed the name. It's just Garrison Keillor's Radio Show. I wonder if Prairie Home companion, a totally American Phrase that evokes a reaction something like viewing a Norman Rockwell Painting or hearing Kate Smith sing "God Bless America," means nothing to the rest of the world. Incidentally, Keillor took the name from the Prairie Home Cemetery in Minnesota, a perfect mid-American name for an eternal resting place.

Another puzzlement about the program is that the Lake Wobegon monologues almost always include references to the importance of church-going. That's often the main point of the tale. I totally relate and smile, sometimes laugh out loud at Keillor's sharp insight into the funny and human things that happen in church. His Young Lutheran's guide to the Orchestra is brilliant religious satire. He has been quoted from pulpits of just about every denomination. But why are secularists who have given up on traditional, organized religion still such devoted fans? It makes no sense. The annual joke show sometimes makes me cringe a bit at the religious jokes. He gets away with things that I don't believe Letterman could do. "Phenomenon" and "enigma" seem to be the only words that work when we think about A Prairie Home Companion.

Here's my personal bottom line. Garrison Keillor loves and understands radio. He is ideally suited to that medium. He knows how to make love to a microphone. I was luke warm about the Altman film and Keillor's books don't do much for me. But give him a radio microphone and something special happens.