Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:14):
Aging is a beautiful natural process, the wisdom you gain,
the growing sense of gratitude, the amusement of seeing young
people make your same dumb mistakes. But one thing that
bothers me is the difficulty of putting on underpants while
(00:38):
standing and not leaning against a doorpost, not holding on
to anything. It's a graceful moment, the left leg held
up and poked through the hole, and then the right
free standing, no wobbling, which I've done since I was
(00:59):
a kid, and now at the age of eighty one,
I can sometimes still perform this trick. But then comes
a bad experience. The left foot catches the underpants crotch
and you lose your balance, and suddenly you're headed for
(01:20):
a tragic accident. I do not want my oboit to
read the author died at home of a concussion while
trying to pull on his briefs. No foul play was suspected,
and so after a near fall, I now sit down
(01:43):
on the bed and practice safety, But still there's a
sense of loss. Trousers are easier, but not without risk either.
Along the same line, my beloved has behooved me to
sit on the toilet while emptying my bladder and I
(02:08):
try to comply. There have been occasions when I stood
to whiz and I didn't hear urine hitting water. For
some reason, I was pissing sideways into the bathtub, which
can be a problem in a marriage. No matter how
(02:28):
hard he tries, a man can never clean up wayward
urine to the satisfaction of his wife. I try to
explain to her that a male animal uses urine to
mark his territory, but she does not buy that. So
I sit, but I feel a diminution of my manhood.
(02:53):
In the morning, when I shower, if she's not nearby,
I allow my bladder to open, a beautiful feeling of freedom.
But once she saw me, and she cried, what are
you doing? Knowing perfectly well what I was doing. I
was exercising a manly right, standing under a waterfall and
(03:19):
letting go, which takes me back to boy Scouts and
the camping trip to Lake Vermilion, where four of us
Scouts stood in a row barn, doors open to see
who could urinate the highest. This is a pleasure denied
to women, so far as I know. These are small setbacks, however,
(03:44):
and I don't dwell on them. The great question remains
now as when I was seventeen, perhaps even more clearly now.
What am I here on earth? For? What is my purpose?
I did a show in Kansas in January, after which
(04:05):
I met a man named Barry who was a freelance
Christian pastor, non denominational and independent. There were his wife
and daughters, old fans of mine who suddenly became friends.
And I said to him, I hope you have an IRA,
and he said, the Lord will provide. The man was
(04:30):
secure in his calling, as Saint Paul wrote to Timothy,
I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that
he is able to keep that which I have committed
unto him against that day, I've met many people after
(04:50):
shows shaking hands who seemed to be committed to a purpose, teachers, musicians, physicians,
cops which they didn't mind telling me their old radio uncle.
It can be hazardous shaking hands. I did a show
in Green Bay and hung out with dozens of people.
(05:10):
A few days later, got hit by influenza bee and
got a week of utter misery. But so be it,
Saint Paul said, all things work together for good to
them that love God. And if that's not true, I
don't know what is. My purpose in being alive is
to create a lightness of spirit with words, and my
(05:34):
aim is to do this standing in front of an
audience for two hours, no text, tossing off the top
of my head, stories and poems, songs, a murder ballad, hymns,
reminiscences of my Gramachueler scripture, singing with the audience, a
(05:56):
demented old man pulling out impromptu associations from deep memory,
which at its best is like putting on underpants, free
standing with my eyes closed. But more like skating backwards,
a skill that I picked up on the frozen Mississippi
(06:17):
when I was a kid. You skate forwards like running,
and then you swive on and suddenly you're dancing. You're
doing a cross step pattern. And I never, never an athlete,
suddenly felt astonished by the gracefulness of it, A lonely
stretch of river, nobody else around. It wasn't for show,
(06:42):
but for the feeling of freedom, like a bird in flight,
or a fish leaping the rapids, or a man standing
under a shower brisk first Karasin Quiller's new book of poems,
Some Whimsical, some funny, may be mischievous, may be thought provoking.
(07:04):
In any case, an irresistible read and a great gift.
Brisk Verse check it out at Garrison Keiller dot com.
If you enjoy Garrison's writings, you'll find a bonanza in
his newsletter, Garrison Keeler and Friends. There's humor, advice, thoughts
on ordinary life, and lots more. Subscribe at Garrison Keiller
(07:24):
dot substack dot com