| Latest from Garrison Keillor |
|---|
| "I skipped the news today and clicked on Zoom where my church held Morning Prayer for Holy Week and there we all were in little boxes on the screen, like pastries on the grocery shelf, and we prayed for forgiveness --- though in self-isolation, there’s not much lust or anger, just gluttony and sloth, the usual --- and I prayed for friends who are alone, including the one who says, “This is a great time to be an introvert.” Meanwhile, it is spring in New York City. Bright green grass is growing in the planter boxes on our balcony and a loud bird is hanging out there. We are three people isolating ourselves in five rooms, one reading, one Facetiming, one typing these words. We have groceries, running water, WiFi, all the necessities, and we’re on the 12th floor and can open a door and sit outside in the sunshine, the ultimate luxury. |
| It’s an easy life and skipping the news lets you almost forget about a president who, as the British writer Nate White points out, “has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honor and no grace” and now, in a national crisis, shows himself to be a bumbler and con artist focused on weeding out non-yes-men in the government. So we must depend on the heroes in our midst, the hospital workers and truckdrivers and grocery clerks and crucial employees, the people the Queen thanked in her speech, to get us through the next few weeks or months until, God help us, the rate of infection declines and life can resume. |
| In the summer of 1942, the year I was born, a terrible storm hit my hometown in Minnesota and our cousin Florence Hunt ran out of her house with a baby in hand as a tornado blew the roof off and blew mother and child into the limbs of a tree. She climbed down, bruised, the baby unhurt, and took shelter next door at her father-in-law Rozel’s whose father had died of TB when Rozel was a boy. My aunt Jo lived nearby on a farm where my father almost broke his neck when his team of four horses got spooked and took off at a wild gallop. His cousin Joe Loucks drowned in the Rum River nearby and my father and his brothers formed a human chain but couldn’t save him. My father who, as a boy, looked out the schoolhouse window and saw his family’s house burning down. |
| My people were no strangers to disaster. I was brought up by strong farm women who had driven horses and handled guns and slaughtered chickens and dealt with troubled men and as a child I could sense their capability. |
| My school, Anoka High School, adopted that storm of 1942 as a symbol and our teams became the Anoka Tornadoes. That is a brand and it means nothing. Washington is full of men who think in terms of branding and who study opinion polls to gauge their own credibility. Our country is in trouble and it lacks coherent leadership and this obliges us to extend ourselves to each other. Love your neighbor. Gather your family close. Prepare for hard times ahead. Pledge allegiance to each other. Now is the time to come to its aid, before it sinks." |
2
Enjoy being online again!
Welcome to the community of good people who base their values on evidence and appreciate civil discourse - the social network you will enjoy.Create your free account
1 comment
Feel free to reply to any comment by clicking the "Reply" button.I wonder if Garrison Keillor realises just how irrelevant he is in today's world.
anglophone
Level 9
Apr 8, 2020
0
@Allamanda I feely admit that my perspective may be inadequately informed.
Enjoy being online again!
Welcome to the community of good people who base their values on evidence and appreciate civil discourse - the social network you will enjoy.Create your free account
Share this post
Categories
Agnostic does not evaluate or guarantee the accuracy of any content. Read full disclaimer.