Butch Thompson Trio, Garrison Keillor, Los Lobos. Red Maddock, Robin and Linda Williams,
The Finn Who Would Not Take a Sauna ( Garrison Keillor ) Meatballs ( Garrison Keillor ) Home in Pasadena (Butch Thompson Trio ) We're in the money (Butch Thompson Trio ) Thanks a million ( Red Maddock , Butch Thompson Trio ) Traveling Biscuit Band ( Garrison Keillor , Robin and Linda Williams ) Once more (Robin and Linda Williams ) Who can sleep (Robin and Linda Williams ) Oh my little darling (Robin and Linda Williams ) I love you a thousand ways (Robin and Linda Williams ) Saved (Robin and Linda Williams ) Stay a little longer (Robin and Linda Williams ) Vera Cruz (Los Lobos ) El Canelo (Los Lobos ) Canción del mariachi (Los Lobos ) Quiero poner azucar (Los Lobos ) Mexico Americana (Los Lobos ) Mohas inocencia (Los Lobos )
Chatterbox Cafe Ingqvist, Yalmer Living Flag Powdermilk Biscuits Ralph's Pretty Good Grocery Sidetrack Tap Skoglund's Five and Dime Uppsala Uff-Das Whippets
...well, that song just leads me right into talking about Lake Wobegon and I love you and I'll show it in 1000 ways. Though it's hard for me to show it- It's hard for me to show it to them because I don't live there anymore and it's hard for me to show it to you because Lake Wobegon is just a hard town to show. If somebody from Los Angeles came to Lake Wobegon and said alright, show us the sights. I'd have to stop and think a minute. Well, let me see we go down to the Chatterbox see a bunch of guys in feed caps sitting around drinking coffee. Show you the statue of the Unknown Norwegian. Take you up to Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility Church, and have you meet Father Emil. Bet you haven't met anybody just like him before.
But otherwise, I'm not sure. It's kind of a quiet time of year there right now. Until the 4th of July comes up and Toast and Jelly days in July- I can't think of any big celebrations.
They used to celebrate Flag Day- now flag days coming up this next week and they will show flags- the Chamber of Commerce sells and they put them in front of all the shops and everybody hangs a flag in front of their house usually in front of the porch, but there's not a whole lot to do on Flag Day other than just show the flag, I guess. It's kind of a Lake Wobegon type holiday.
There was a Flag Day celebration. I think it was back in about 1958 when Yalmer Ingqvist organized a living flag. They got 400 people to wear red, white and blue caps and then lined them up standing in Main St in the form of a flag. Which I think probably the idea came from a traveling cap salesman. Because once they were all lined up there and you know they had the stars and the bars and everything, there were not many people left over to appreciate it. There were a couple guys up there on the roof of the central building and they said boy that looks great. But they're just a couple.
Then somebody got out from the living flag who had a red cap on - he was part of a strike- and he ran up to the top of the central building, 'cause he wanted to see it. And then of course everybody had to do it. Then everybody had to see the flag. Yalmer says, well, let's go in groups, but then if you go in groups, that destroys the very thing you're looking at, don’t it?
So 1 by 1- Enter the central building, climb four flights of stairs, go out lean over the parapet, look down. There's the flag. All right now it's your turn, Carl. The Carl come up. Finally, the living flag became kind of a sitting flag. Until finally they got down to the last person. They had been there for hours. They didn't care to hear anything about Flag Day for a long time. Mrs Olson was the last one- she had a white cap on- She was part of a star. They said “all right. It's your turn, go!”
She said, “Oh no, that's alright. I don't need to.”
They said “go! Get up there.”
She said “that's all right. I don't need to. I've seen flags before.”
I tell you the whole lower right hand corner of that flag just grabbed onto her and they marched her up and they made her look at it. And then they all came back down again. Then somebody wanted to go home and get a camera. They've never done that since.
Yeah, that's the town where the 4th of July parade takes four turns around the block there in the middle of town so that participants can drop out and watch it as it goes by and other people get in. But that's not going on this year, and otherwise I don't know what I would show you. It's kind of quiet there. The gardens are coming along. People like to sit in their backyards and watch sets of onions come up.
Great big gardens in that town out behind almost every house. The porches, the porches are open, everybody is on their porch in the evening, that's nice. They don't believe in air conditioning in Lake Wobegon, they believe it's a sign of ill health. And also a sign of extravagance and corruption and decadence such as brought down the Roman Empire. Roman Empire had air conditioners, you know and that's why they didn't hear the Barbarians coming- was there windows were all closed. We don't have them in Lake Wobegon. They keep their windows open and they sit out on their front porches is behind the screens and they sit there with the nectar and the cookies.
The front sidewalk is maybe 20 feet away. Front yards aren't big and Lake Wobegon, they save the space for the garden in the back. And people go by on the street. And the people in the porch- there's a whole little ritual about him. People in the porch call out and I say “hello, how are you doing? Beautiful day, isn't it?”
And then if they want to they say “why don’t ya come on in set with us for a bit.”
The person on the sidewalk is supposed to say no the first time. They say “no, no thanks. We're just going up the street.”
It's the second invitation which is the real invitation. “No, come on in. Come on in, sit down”
“well all right just for a minute.”
Walk in, have some nectarines and cookies. Fall asleep. It’s a good place for naps- front porch. Nobody is offended if you doze off. It's quite common. It's good sleeping weather in Lake Wobegon.
I think though about the Lundberg family when I think about sleeping. They are a family that sleeps during the day and is kind of restless during the night. They're all big, stocky, phlegmatic Norwegians- your Lundberg family. Very quiet. Sometimes you'll see them sitting on the bench in front of the chatter box, kind of swaying. Their eyes shut. They're quite peaceful during the day.
It's at night when they really come to. They go up to bed- the Lundbergs do- Carl and Betty- three boys, all big lunkers- and after a while about midnight or so, if you're still up, you can hear loud cries coming from the Lundburg home as they're yelling out in their sleep. Not from Betty now she's an Olsen, and the Olsens were always very sedate sleepers. You kind of have an idea about the Olsens that they would lie down and straighten the covers and fold their hands and put them on their bellies and awake eight hours later in the same position.
But Carl is a Lundberg and how she can sleep in the same bed with him for 20 years, I don't know. Because Carl gets to... he's drowning in his sleep and he's struggling in the water and swimming and he's calling out, waving to search planes overhead. Dreaming terrible dreams. And ever so often during this warm weather, and when there's a full moon, you'll have Lundbergs coming out of their homes, sleepwalking- out into town. Great big sleeping Lundbergs moving out from their home. Like some horror movie. Move along, sometimes humming to themselves. Usually a hymn like Rock of Ages. Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.
You might hear him back in your garden thrashing around back there. Picking grass up by big clumps. Walking around on your tomato plants. And in a town like Lake Wobegon where nobody locks their front door and nobody even remembers where the key is [huge single laugh from audience]- I've got some Lundberg relatives out there- they remember that branch of the family- yes, you hear some crashing downstairs- that's a Lundburg down here.
Walking down the street, sometimes people think like they ought to awaken them. But it's dangerous to awaken a sleeping Lundburg. You grab one, you know, and you shake him and you say “Ralph wake up it's 3:00 o'clock in the morning. You're downtown in your shorts.”
Ralph is likely to wake up and say, “well, I'm going home if you just let go of me.”
They can be violent. I don't know what causes it. I don't think anyone in Lake Wobegon wants to know. It's some kind of deep seated frustration. Some unhappiness that they can't talk about during the day. They can only wander around like ghosts at night.
I want to read you.. I want to read you. I want to say a little poem here. Here's little poem- a poem for Sunday. It's called Meatballs.
Oh meatballs, lovely meatballs that grace our Sunday meal. Another pan of meatballs of beef and pork and veal. Adorn a serving platter upon a walnut stand. We thank thee for these meatballs from thine and gandma's hand. Oh lovely mashed potatoes in which these meatballs float. On great brown lakes of gravy poured from the gravy boat. It speaks to us of richness of blessing and good cheer when spoken to by gravy I love the things I hear. Oh, spinach, peas and onions oh beets, beet greens and chard, fresh from grandma's garden beyond the cool green yard. Pools of green lie steaming in pale blue China bowls around a silver wedding vase of yellow marigolds. Oh lovely sweet cream butter oh lovely bread we break. That grandma made this morning before I was awake. No recipe, no measuring, but made with love and care. The smell of yeast and flour still lingers in the air. Oh cousins, aunts and uncles who share this earthly store gathered round his table in 1954. Eyes closed and hands are folded as Grandpa says the grace. Mine alone are open I look in every face. I see your lovely faces together on this day. Passing into darkness, the voices fade away. I close my eyes to hold you and bring you back to me, passing slowly passing into a memory. Another Sunday dinner, another table set. Children take the places of folk they never met. A little boy is sitting in grandpa’s old oak chair. I feel his eyes upon me as I say the prayer. Around this Sunday table time is passing by. Child I know you see it in our faces, so do I. But thank the Lord for giving us this afternoon again. And now please pass them meatballs, Let's eat Amen.
That's the news from Lake Wobegon Minnesota, where all the women were strong, and all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.
Miss Falconer's 9th Grade choir. The basses had just gone through puberty and tried to sing softly. GK had to sing solo and was humiliated. He did not sing for ten years. The LW Whippets lost to Upsulla 21 to 2. They're singing the 'LW Whippets Rag.' The Book of Rules contains the proper rules for kid's games. Poem, 'The Finn Who Would Not Take a Sauna.' Poem 'Meatballs.'
Ad from May 26 Los Angeles Times. Broadcast July 24, 1982 / Berto: was first broadcast on July 24, 1982, It was re-broadcast on September 5, 1987