An Evening with Garrison Keillor

It's an unfortunate thing when a celebrity performer whom you have come to enjoy fails to meet expectations. Sometimes, it's a bad day. Other times, it's a signal that retirement may be looming.

Garrison Keillor, whose "Prairie Home Companion" NPR radio show delights its listeners and live audiences with humor, music, acting, poetry, and insightful commentaries, came to Hartford's Bushnell Theater last week. I thought it would be a good idea to see him.

What I was expecting, I suppose, was a Prairie Home-type performance.

But it was just Garrison Keillor - no band, no actors, no one to accompany him.

It was sort of like Jerry Seinfeld with no supporting cast.

Keillor was on stage alone, just him and a microphone and a stool.

He sang frequently, and as anyone who has heard him knows, he pretty much can't sing. Audiences tolerate his singing because his shows usually consist of much more. He told stories, which he is very good at. But on this night, he was forgetful - a warning sign that, maybe, just maybe, his age (67) and health condition (he suffered a mild stroke in the fall) are catching up with him.

At one point, he referred to a poem by ee cummings but forgot its name. ("You know the one" he told the audience) Another time, he forgot a word (which I have since forgotten, too) during a story, and then remembered it minutes later.

So it was disappointing to see a subpar performance from a performer who is consistently smart and smooth. I got the sense that "An Evening with Garrison Keillor" is just too much. Being on a stage for 90 minutes with no intermission and no supporting cast is not Keillor's strength. His strengths are the skits he does such as "Guy Noir" Private Eye, The News from Lake Wobegon, and the many other features he has developed into his weekly show.

The audience at the Bushnell, also, was a bit different from his Prairie Home shows at Tanglewood, where we see him each year. Tanglewood is a diverse mix of people, young and old. Kids frolic on the lawn while their parents drink beer. Teenagers find themselves wandering on the Tanglewood grounds, experimenting with certain illegal behavior. Older folks there tend to be hip.

At the Bushnell, the audience was clearly AARP-eligible. The heads around me were mostly gray or bald, and although some gray hairs have emerged on my head, and there isn't as much on my top as there used to be, I felt like I was not a part of the advertised demographic. I felt like I was rushing things, being there at the Bushnell where the mean age of the audience members was probably 20 years older than me. I felt like maybe I needed to find a performance more my age.

A comforting thing did occur today, though, when, on the way home, I tuned into my car radio and listened this week's Prairie Home Companion, and it was good. Garrison Keillor's usual skits and familiar delivery were unsurprising but warm and comfortable, sort of like a meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Normally, I'm not a fan of such bland diner food, but after listening to Keillor's monologue today, I felt encouraged that he still had his A game for the Prairie Home program.

Thinking Snow Day

Unlike some other educators (who are lying), I will not deny that snow days are a fringe benefit to teaching that I enjoy a lot. Teachers don't get company stock options; we don't get company cars; we don't have expense accounts. But we do have the occasional thrill in the winter of getting a day off because of snowy or icy weather.

Tomorrow is one such day - the first possible weather problem during a school day this year. As a teacher, when winter arrives, you start to watch the weather in advance. Suddenly, the 8-day forecast matters (even though predicting weather that far in advance is ludicrous). I listen to "traffic and weather together" on AM radio, which has generally reliable forecasts. I check it online. I look at the radar. Where's the green? Where's the white? I tune into the Weather Channel for a national perspective. Maybe the "Winter Weather Expert", the bald guy with the doctorate, will be on.

Valid question: What does the winter weather expert do during the other three seasons?

Snow days mean days are added to the end of the school year, but June days, especially at the end of the month, tend to be irrelevant. An unexpected day off in December, January or February is a welcome surprise, sort of like getting a card in the mail with cash in it for no reason. (Note: This rarely has ever happened to me.)

Tomorrow's weather is not looking that horrible; there's probably a better chance that school will be delayed 90 minutes. The weatherguys are calling for 1-3 inches of snow, with all precipitation changing to rain in mid-morning. Still, the roads could be difficult to travel on. The snow/sleet mix is falling at precisely the right time - 3 to 7 a.m. Either way, delay or cancellation, what other job exists that has snow days built in as a possible benefit? On snow days, I get to shovel the driveway before anyone else, play in the snow with the kids, go sledding, and hang around the house NOT WORKING. It's a beautiful thing.

As I prepare to watch the final weather forecast of the night, I hear the weatherman talking about a "messy weather day" tomorrow. When he finishes, I need to decide: Do I listen to another forecast, the 11 p.m. one, to see if anything different/better gets reported? This does sometimes happen. You listen/watch to who tells you what you want to hear.

This is also a good strategy for choosing friends, now that I think about it.

Right now, this guy's saying the morning commutte is not looking very good. That's when buses are on the road. Sounds good to me. Don't think I need to listen to another forecast tonight.