Speaker 1: Like most pre boomers, I was brought up not to
talk about myself, but to ask other people about themselves.
But not large probing questions what church do you belong to?
Where did you go to college? What drugs are you
currently on? But pleasant queries, how's your day going so far?
I like your shoes, where did you get them? Beautiful day?
Where are you heading? And that last one, where are
you heading? Is a great question because I travel all
the time because of the nature of my work, which
is stand up comedy. I am only just so funny,
and if I stayed in one place, people would get
sick of me very quickly. So I need to stay
on the move. LGA, MSP AT, l l A, X
dfwor D SAA DTW. Big cities packed with people, airports,
long concourses where you get your day's exercise, switching flights,
endless cafes, shops. You could probably find a proctologist in
an airport, a psychoanalyst, maybe a yoga instructor. And once
you get past tsa security, you're in middle class America.
No homeless, no panhandlers, no drug addicts, just a lot
of very nice people who apparently are doing well. Flying
is not cheap. And I sit and wait by my
gay and if someone looks at me and smiles, I
like to ask where you headed to day. Once at
pH L I met a man from Lancaster, PA who
was heading for O r D to see his son.
Lancaster is Mennonite Amish country, and he told me Mennonites
have zippers Amish yu's buttons, so just checked their pants.
He worked at the county prison, a big stone castle,
the only prison he knew of that gets reviews by inmates,
just like a hotel. Some inmates, he said, like it.
Some say the food is bad. At b O S
I met a woman heading for Burlington, Vermont. She said,
it's the city where it's still the sixties. Bernie Sanders
was mayor, the socialist you know. He thought he could
be elected president, and maybe he could have in Denmark,
but there was a language problem. Standing in LGA, heading
for M s P, A man asked me what I
do and I told him I do a radio show
of folk music and bad jokes that cities bring in
who are worried about becoming too hip. And we do
a show and soon the rents start to fall and
the line at Starbucks gets shorter. I love airports. I
know too many liberals and writers and artsy people and
waiting in airports. I've met Republicans, engineers, managers. The Saudis
who crashed four passenger jets back in two thousand could
have put a permanent crimp in jet travel. But the
government created t SA so that your son or daughter
can wear a uniform and yell at people to take
off their belts, and so the right to travel has
been preserved. I don't talk to many young people. So
many of them wear headphones or earbuds, and they look
stressed out. I'm guessing the music there listening to is
narcissist pop about me, myself and I, my need for
more me time, my exorbitant rent, my boring jaw, bad boss,
crowded bike paths, long wait times and climbing walls, and
the fear of arterial plaque caused by foods containing G
M I and D MU. And if I smile at
these people, they'll take me for a privileged white male
and give me the middle finger. My generation was romantic
about the open road and the dream of finding something
better in a far away place. Our kids the boomers
and millennials picked that up, and now we old timers
have to get on a plain to see our loved ones.
So far as I know, miss Swift, Taylor Swift doesn't
sing about hoboes jumping on a westbound freight to get
out of Deadwood. She sings about self awareness, trumping, romantic disappointment.
I'm privileged. I love my country, the West, the Midwest,
the Northeast.
Speaker 2: More.
Speaker 1: I love American history and American music as it was
back when people stood around at parties and we sang
pop songs. In school, we stood by our desks and
we sang My country tis of these sweet land of Liberty,
a song that has been banished in favor of all
people who on Earth do dwell. Each has a story
they can tell. Each story is of equal worth to
all inhabitants of Earth. Okay, but I can't wait to
get on the road again by jet plain or midnight
train to see the sights, the city lights rolling down
the river, or Route sixty six down the river to
the Mississippi Delta, and Graceland shining like a national guitar.
I do believe we shall be received out Griceland.
Speaker 2: Brisk Verse Garrison Keiller's new book of poems. Some whimsical,
some funny, may be mischievous, may be thought provoking. 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 dot substack dot
com