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Arts

(American Public Media)

Q&A: 'Prairie Home Companion' host Garrison Keillor
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When “A Prairie Home Companion” host Garrison Keillor takes the Dodge Theatre stage March 19, don’t count on any visits from Guy Noir or a jazzy musical number from The Guys All-Star Shoe Band.

It’s a simpler affair with the sonorous public radio icon, “An Evening with Garrison Keillor,” at the downtown Phoenix venue — a night of storytelling and reading by the Lake Wobegon series author. Though you can count on plenty of humorous insight into the lives of Minnesotans and Lutherans.

“It’s just me myself and a microphone,” Keillor says, “and people seem to like it.”
The Minnesota radio DJ turned folksy humorist and storyteller — who’s also logged time as a writer for The New Yorker and as an advice columnist for an online magazine — is heard by over four million listeners on the weekly “Prairie Home” radio show, broadcast in the Valley on KJZZ-FM (91.5) 5 p.m. Saturdays and rebroadcast 10 a.m. Sundays.

The radio show was also made into an eponymous film, directed by Robert Altman, in 2006.

Recently, Keillor responded to interview questions from Get Out via e-mail.

GET OUT: We're doing this interview as you're preparing the popular, annual "Prairie Home" joke show. Do you have a favorite joke this time around?

A: A man is depressed and calls up Lifeline and gets a call center in Pakistan. He tells them he is depressed and suicidal and they get excited and ask him if he can drive a truck.

Q: Is there a secret to telling a joke well?

A: A joke is a little mechanism and every part needs to be in place.

Q: You're also in the process of moving, which is no small ordeal, even if you are remaining in St. Paul. Were you surprised at the amount of news that — well, plus the neighborly rigmarole — generated, considering you're merely moving a few blocks away?

A: It was an odd newspaper story, LOCAL MAN DECIDES TO STAY IN TOWN. Millions of people decide to do that every day. But the newspapers don't question my credibility and I don't question theirs. And the nice thing was that it inspired a lot of friends to offer to help, which wouldn't have happened if it had been a big secret.

Q: Tell me about your upcoming Phoenix appearance. It's not structured like "Prairie Home." And is it a one-Powdermilk-Biscuit or two show? (In other words, will you be just talking or singing as well?)

A: I always sing a little bit and I tell a string of stories which, seeing as it's Phoenix, might be about winter, since that's what Phoenicians went there to get away from. It's just me myself and a microphone, and people seem to like it.

I want to write a play so that I can sit in the dark and watch actors do my lines and bring them to life.
    — Garrison Keillor
Q: Do you have any connections to Phoenix?

A: Envy would be the main one, I guess.

Q: Is it liberating to do a live show without all the trappings of the radio production?

A: It is. You travel around with no crew, no staff, just you and a suitcase, and when you walk out onstage, there's only a microphone. No clouds of carbon dioxide, no strobe lights. I've gone to big stage shows where dancers danced and the band played and sets came in and out and the part I always love is when the star comes downstage and speaks to us in a quiet tone of voice. People like to be talked to. Of course sometimes it relaxes them to where they fall asleep, but it's dark in the auditorium, and nobody sees except me, and I don't care.

Q: Solo appearances, I'd imagine, would tend to bring out more ardent fans than "Prairie Home" companions. You — and your radio show, and the Lake Wobegon books — appeal to a wide swath of folks, of course, but could you typify the Garrison Keillor buff?

A: There are several kinds, starting with people my age who remember (dimly) old radio shows and like my show, and then there are their children who were forced to listen to the show as kids and who grew up to enjoy it, and then there are their children, who don't know anything but they fall asleep and that's merciful for us all.

Q: Some of us, believe it or not, were turned on to your work via your stint as an advice columnist for the online magazine Salon. You quit that post in 2001; how nowadays do you regard that gig?

A: I loved giving advice to people about ordinary problems — lost love, loneliness, career frustration, parental paranoia — but more and more people were asking me about what seemed to me to be depression and for that there is no interesting answer. I am happy thinking back on all of the young people I advised to follow their hearts and go with what they believed rather than do the sensible thing. I am not so happy about the letter-writers whose troubles were simply beyond my ken.

Q: The span of your work is certainly impressive: writer, radio showman, film actor, poetry editor. What is there left that you'd like to tackle?

A: I want to write a play so that I can sit in the dark and watch actors do my lines and bring them to life. I haven't done that yet and I'm 65 and it's time to get serious. That's my plan for July. And also I want to write a Lake Wobegon movie and direct it. I plan to do that in August.

Q: And is there a key to being so prolific?

A: You have to learn to give up on work that's going nowhere and put it away and not worry it to death. Nothing is wasted — you'll use it someday — but meanwhile write what you want to write.

Q: Last month, you offered your endorsement of Barack Obama in the current presidential race. Would that imply you're Minnesota's version of Oprah Winfrey? You do both oversee distinct media empires.

A: Hers is the endorsement that counts and mine is just an old Northern Democrat trying to be relevant. I loved his autobiography, which was one of the most remarkable memoirs ever written, I think, especially by someone who doesn't consider himself a writer. I think he'd make a president we could all admire and what a big change that would be. So I hope Oprah is working hard for him.

IF YOU GO

'An Evening with Garrison Keillor’
When: 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, March 19
Where: Dodge Theatre, 400 W. Washington St., Phoenix
Cost: $34.50-$72
Information: (480) 784-4444 or livenation.com

Contact Chris Page by email, or phone (480) 898-5656

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