A one-man composite of humorist, author, bard and balladeer, he was seen by some as a modern-day Mark Twain. Keillor was forced off the stage in late after accusations surfaced that he had sexually harassed women he worked with. In his denial of the allegations, Keillor was short on contrition. But his side of the story has yet to come. Keillor says he is now writing a memoir. Meanwhile, in the past few months, Keillor has quietly stepped back into the spotlight, playing small venues in Minnesota and Wisconsin.
Wisconsin has been friendly turf over the years. He has performed often in Milwaukee and Madison and once owned a log-house hideaway on 11 acres along the St. Croix River in western Wisconsin. I button-holed Keillor at the East Side cafe as we stood in line to order tea. The single-digit temperature outside seemed made-to-order for the thick-blooded Minnesotan. Standing nearly six and a half feet tall, dressed in a light gray suit that matched a full head of graying hair replete with the signature tuft hanging over his forehead , Keillor was hard to miss.
As we waited, customers floated by, starstruck but careful not to intrude or interrupt, solid Lake Wobegon traits. Affable, approachable, Keillor told me how things have changed for him. We shared thoughts about family, about writing, about the state of the newspaper industry.
And we silently danced around the issue of sexual misconduct. Instead, we talked politics. I asked Keillor, a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat, about another native Minnesotan, Amy Klobuchar , whose star was on the rise. As show time neared, ticket holders jostled their way to their seats — fans middle aged to elderly, wrapped in Patagonia puffer parkas, Smartwool sweaters, and Vibram-soled hiking boots — an NPR crowd, a congregation of baby boomers like myself, brush-glazed in a slight sheen of entitlement and giddy conceit.
Wobegon Boy ends with him living happily in New York— the city! Jesus leaves us hanging in the parable of the prodigal son. Not only do we not know whether the elder brother will ever come to terms with his father, we also are left to wonder what life will be like for the prodigal the morning after the big party. Perhaps Keillor tells the story so well because it is his story, too, a story of leaving and coming, of rebellion and reconciliation, of restlessness and rootedness.
Keillor has quit radio several times, but has always returned. He left Minnesota in anger, but moved back with words of gratitude. Not all the breaches have been healed, at least not yet. One can only hope that he will return now that David Remnick, a serious and excellent journalist, is at the helm. Remember that brutally satirical article he wrote as a college student when the local chapter of Campus Crusade for Christ brought in a Christian illusionist to attract people to a meeting?
And when one of our birds lands on your shoulder, I want you, if you feel that blessing in your heart, to stand up where you are. But then they got down to the business of meditating, [and] thoughts did come to mind of divine providence in their lives, of a great love that seemed to abide in the world and that upheld them and supported them as if by invisible hands,.
And as they sat and meditated, one by one each of them felt a slight weight on the shoulder, as if someone had tapped them, and then they did feel blessed. And one by one they stood up where they were, until everyone was standing. It was a stunning moment. And they all felt very touched by this, and not only touched but filled by this miraculous event: the sound of wings in the room like angels moving amongst them and stirring the air.
Grace and love that lifted him up is what the prodigal found from his father. Michael Nelson is professor of political science at Rhodes College. A former editor of The Washington Monthly, he has published twenty books on the American presidency, national elections, and higher education. More than forty of his articles have been anthologized in works of political science, history, and English composition. Once upon a time, Garrison Keillor took his show to Laramie, Wyoming, my home town.
Of course, I had to go. Before the show, I went into a local restaurant for dinner. Dining with a lady friend! Nobody else seemed to recognize him, though his picture had just appeared on the cover of Time Magazine. I squelched the urge to run over for his autograph, and just gawked. He noticed me, and I fear it made him uncomfortable. During his monologue, he said, "People ask me what it's like to have your picture on the cover of Time. Well, it doesn't much affect your life, but people stare at you in public places!
Angelina A. Hear the sound of dirty pieces of paper printed with green ink blots of old dead white men as they fall out of the sky in thin air View cart Subscribe Login. How to Give Why Give? How to Give Store. IV Lake Wobegon is not Eden before the Fall, although the tag line Keillor always appends to his weekly monologue can mislead the casual listener into thinking it is. V The stained-glass word for stories is parables. VI Jesus leaves us hanging in the parable of the prodigal son.
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