Month: August 2002

Being a concise survey of bizarre coincidences in the life of real public figures and wholly manufactured fictional characters.

1. Astonishingly, Garrison Keillor was included in the top 10 of Playgirl’s sexiest men of 1986. Others on that list included Sen. Robert Dole, Billy Crystal, William “The Refrigerator” Perry and Donald Trump—so one begins to sense how horribly wrong things had gone with that particular list.

2. Keillor suffered this exact fate during a recent performance of A Prairie Home Companion. His fly remained down, though he knew the audience knew he knew.

3. Keillor’s first piece in the New Yorker appeared in 1970.

4. Michael Fedo’s biography of Keillor, The Man From Lake Wobegon (St. Martin’s Press, New York 1987), documents donor friction at KSJN over Keillor’s format choices in the early 70s, leading to a series of Keillor resignations and re-hirings.

5. “St. Paul is a city that does not mind having a class D baseball team. Minneapolis is a city that would die if it were associated with Sioux Falls and Fargo and Duluth. They would absolutely perish. So that’s why God made us number 2.” Garrison Keillor to the St. Paul City Council. Star Tribune, October 25, 2001, p.3B.

6. See St. Paul Pioneer Press, August 9, 2002.

7. Protagonist John Tollefson loses his job as a public radio station manager over a “douche bag” joke in Wobegon Boy, Garrison Keillor, (Penguin Books, 1997).

8. Michael Fedo made a similar, if kinder statement regarding Garrison Keillor’s red socks.

9. “I look like a tree toad who has changed into a boy but not completely.” Lake Wobegon Summer 1956, Garrison Keillor, (Viking/Penguin, 2001), p. 18.

10. You don’t believe us, do you. Check it out: Zeus changed his lover Io into a white cow to conceal her from his wife. She was discovered by Hera, who sent a gadfly to chase her through Egypt. She came to rest in the Aegean sea on the island named for her—Ios.

11. The similarly named Greenspring Companies was the holding company of for-profit Rivertown Trading Company, which began in 1981 to handle sales of Powdermilk Biscuit merchandise. Under pressure from an investigation by the state Attorney General’s office into the for-profit partnership with non-profit Minnesota Public Radio, Greenspring unloaded Rivertown to Dayton-Hudson Corp. for $120 million in 1998. Bill Kling was bought out for a reported $2.6 million.

12. MPR routinely declines to disclose Keillor’s earnings from APHC and Writers’ Almanac.

13. Twenty five cents per word.

14. Keillor savages one of his families in “Family Honeymoon,” a chapter in We Are Still Married, Garrison Keillor, (Penguin Books, USA, Inc. 1990), pp.188-191.

15. “The newspaper will walk up to your house and pee on your roses.” We Are Still Married, p. 143.

16. Something similar was printed on an invitation to Keillor’s wedding to Ulla Skaerved, as reported by the Pioneer Press, December 29, 1985.

17. Both Rick Shefchick and Nick Coleman verify that, contrary to a legend that maintains traction to this day, Coleman was at the Star Tribune when the Pioneer Press published Keillor’s Portland Avenue address in 1986.

18. In 1995, MPR and the Democratic National Committee exchanged donor lists, and MPR admitted to purchasing such lists from the DNC prior to then. In 1996, MPR bought donor names from the Wellstone for Senate campaign. (Pioneer Press, July 24 1999, p. 2D.) In 1986, after Lake Wobegon themes were used to promote a DFL fundraising appearance by Garrison Keillor, Bill Kling wrote the Pioneer Press to express dismay over the “crass use of public radio programs and images to promote the DFL party.” (Pioneer Press, October 18, 1986.)

19. Keillor complained, “I wrote a book called Lake Wobegon Days. They put me in my place but good. They marked my front yard with orange rinds . . .” We Are Still Married, p. 141.

20. See the New York Times, March 2 1988, p. 1C. One of the most startlingly sycophantic interviews conceivable of any person, ever.

21. Noah Adams bravely stuck it out for one year as Keillor’s replacement on MPR’s APHC replacement, Good Evening.

22. MPR has declined to disclose endorsement fees collected from SelectComfort for Keillor’s weekly sales pitch for their product. Ditto Premier Radio, distributor for Rush Limbaugh, who reads a nearly identical script for them. SelectComfort has also declined to disclose what they pay for their advertising with Keillor and Limbaugh.

23. Valente is smarter than he appears. He is quoting The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald, (Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1925), p. 182.

Top honors for the July 11 Op-Ed Slam went to Tim Shea of Minneapolis.

Judges were an assortment of folks who were challenged by the wide range of 3-minute presentations. Some sang, some shouted, some railed, some simply read, and some waxed poetic. Some had opinions.

Other awards went to Colleen Kruse of The Rake fame (see one of her entries in this month’s column) and Omaur Bliss.

Read Tim, Colleen and Omaur’s slams on the following pages

So you walk out of a late show at the Uptown Theater on a Friday night and your stomach is angry with you for stuffing it with Sour Patch Kids and popcorn instead of dinner. You only have $10 in your pocket and you don’t feel like sitting in a dingy, smoky bar waiting for a greasy waiter to serve greasy food. One of your friends suggests Perkins, but your stomach growls in disgust. What should you do? Stagger a few blocks north to the Uptown Diner, one of the Cities’ great unsung secrets. The Uptown Diner has long been a popular place to get a coffee and a muffin or a breakfast big enough to last you until dinner. Now open Thursday through Saturday nights until 3:30 a.m., it’s the perfect place for an early morning smorgasbord. As for the poor fools still stuck in the coffeehouse chains? The diner’s giant, fluffy pancakes made from scratch and the hash browns made from fresh potatoes will make them wonder what in the world they were thinking. Uptown Diner, (612) 874-0481

On a recent weeknight, we had the few odds and ends to pick up at the Mall of America and decided to see what was cooking at Napa Valley Grille. Chef Tom Anderson was up to his usual stuff, so it was extremely hard to decide what to order—not that the menu is terribly long, just thoroughly interesting. We looked to the wine list and were equally challenged. The list, filled exclusively with California wines (get it?), gives some helpful hints: a short list of “unique” whites and reds and an interesting sampler flight for those of us Undecideds who often end up ordering combo meals. Having been recently introduced to the Steele Wineries, we decided on their ’98 Pinot Noir, from Bien Nacido Vineyards near Santa Barbara. From that exceptional bottle, everything became easier, and it seemed we could make no errors in our other choices. Our patient waitress, on her fourth try, finally coaxed our order from us. For an appetizer, we passed on the escargot in favor of fantastic pan-roasted mussels with tiny red potatoes, tomatoes, and a salsa verde. The salads held their own—with an unusual smoked trout dressing on the Caesar, and figs, Stilton, and walnuts to punch up the Arugula. (Never pass up anything prepared with figs: that’s our motto.) After satisfying entrees of salmon and a beef tenderloin special of the day, we turned our heads for the first time during the meal, to see that the Vikings were on the TV in the bar, and the Mall was, in fact, still out there. We considered our surroundings over an after-dinner sip of Beaulieau Muscat, and felt we’d seen more of Napa Valley than Bloomington, Minnesota, that day. Napa Valley Grille, (952) 858-9934

While their movie Run Ronnie Run languishes at New Line Cinema, the comedy duo of Bob Odenkirk and David Cross has released the first two seasons of their now-legendary HBO program, Mr. Show , on DVD. The sketch comedy follows in the tradition other recent HBO hooters such as The Larry Sanders Show and Curb Your Enthusiasm in being too intelligent, ironic, and daring for network television—and maybe too much for cable, too. The two-disc DVD set features both seasons, plus extras including commentary featuring fellow cast members. The collection should stand you in good stead until Odenkirk and Cross bring Mr. Show to the local stage. State Theater, (612) 339-7007

This is one helluva week for the Xcel Center, and it points up why this may be the perfect model for the future of arena entertainment, at a state-of-the-art civic center in the heart of a vibrant city. We can certainly expect major growth in the area of mid-sized geezer rock ’n’ roll shows, thanks in no small part to our VH1 Behind the Music obsessions, rerun TV, and a culture that seems to turn in on itself at an ever-accelerating pace. But let’s give credit where it’s due. Springsteen, at least, has an important new album to trot out for his adoring and rabid fans. McCartney, on the other hand, is essentially the only Beatle left (a cruel joke has been circulating that the Fab Four are dying “in order of coolness”) and let’s not underestimate the draw of hearing the mulleted one belt out some of the greatest pop songs ever co-written. The Who? We don’t know what their excuse is, and it seems in mildly bad taste to put the show on the road anyway, just days after your founding bassist detunes for the last time. At any rate, perhaps you want to rent a cot and stay on Seventh Street for the whole week. In between shows, the Xcel is actually bringing a circus in to help celebrate the madness. Never a dull moment in the Capital City! Xcel Center, (651) 726-8250

For the past several years, the Minnesota Zoo’s outdoor amphitheater has been one of the most reliable venues in town, with a roster of solid locals and national touring acts from John Prine to Ween. This summer’s series winds up well, with two cornerstones of African-American music. George Clinton, of course, is the grandmaster of funk, rainbow-dreaded ringleader of Parliament-Funkadelic. Clinton hasn’t released a new album since 1998’s Dope Dogs , though a Funkadelic collection that had been due out in May is still on hold. Live, he and his crew still tear the roof off with undiminished fervor. Taj Mahal began his career in the 1960s as a roots-blues purist of the first order. That’s still the backbone of his sound, but the man born Henry St. Clair Fredericks quickly became a musicologist of a much wider scope, incorporating black music traditions from all over the world into his sound. That approach didn’t always sit well with critics or audiences, but the rising interest in world music in the 90s made it apparent that Taj had it all figured out way back. Minnesota Zoo, 952-431-9500, mnzoo.org

We’ve been big fans of Greg Brown for a long time now—for almost as long as he’s been obsessed with the Driftless, that rugged beautiful part of the country down where Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota all come together, the land the glaciers forgot to plow under. Seems most of the music-making world is a fan of Brown’s too. Here, Red House Records compiles a tribute to the Mephistopheles of New Folk, with a roster full of talented women performing his songs. It’s not just an exercise in padding the catalog—Red House and Brown are dedicating profits from the album to breast cancer charities. There’s a lot of great stuff here, from Lucinda Williams’ languid take on “Lately” to Iris Dement’s flawless rendering of “The Train Carrying Jimmy Rodgers Home.” Ani DiFranco weighs in with a perfunctory version of “The Poet Game” (the riotgrrl is beginning to lose her quirky sense of modesty, we fear), but the whole thing comes to a throat-tightening crescendo with Brown’s own daughters performing “Ella Mae,” a rarely recorded tribute to his grandmother (and Pieta, Zoe, and Constie’s great grandma) that never sounded so heartbreaking. This pastoral tear-jerker alone is worth several times the cover price.

Well, it’s about time. Nine years since the fondly remembered First Avenue reunion shows, 15 since their breakup, and 22 since In Combo first popped up in the vinyl racks, Beej and the boys’ original albums are finally out on CD. It’s a fine opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with the ’Burbs’ brand of buzzy and bouncy punk-pop. Less angry than Hüsker Dü and less drunk than the Replacements, the Suburbs eschewed the aggressive, deliberate sloppiness of their peers in favor of tightly arranged punk for the dance floor—the sugarbuzz-happy middle ground between Culture Club and Wire. They never broke big nationwide, but a ferocious cult developed out of a string of club hits and memorably weird lyrics about cows, monster men, and wives taped to the ceiling. They broke up for good reason—major-label malaise led to 1986’s uninspired The Suburbs , not included in this reissue—but their place in local rock mythology is completely warranted. One churlish note: the packaging is disappointingly spare. No live tracks, no new liner notes, no B-sides, just the original tracks and artwork. But we’re complaining about the parsley garnish when the steak is sizzling.