Rhubarb for the Soul

There are few things that are so quintessentially American that I feel warm and cozy when I think about them. Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion is one such comfort. I've been listening since I was twelve years old and I've been on a quest in the last ten years to see a live recording of the show. After several foiled attempts, Keith and I finally sat down in the grass at Red Butte Gardens last night, under the stars, with the smell of liberals and red wine, salmon and steak, hummus and tofu, shrimp and local gourmet cheese, to enjoy Keillor's Rhubarb Tour.

Truly there is nothing better for me than to be surrounded by mountains, feel the warmth of the sun fade and a cool night rise on the lawn of an outdoor concert - it never fails to remind me of my college days in Colorado. In last night's Prairie Home Companion, Fred Neuman (the sound effects man) brought amazing life to the show and the music was wonderful. We sat blissfully for three hours because there is no better mellowing agent than ketchup, no better pick-me-up than rhubarb pie, no better nourishment than powder-milk biscuits. It was everything I had hoped it would be and more.

I only regret that I did not have time to make a rhubarb pie for the occasion. The woman sitting behind us did, however. I also discovered that the Rhubarb Tour is not recorded, so I am still on my quest.

Keith informed me last night that there are some evil, errant bloggers who have reported unsavory things about Garrision Keillor. He tried to tell me their accusations, but I refuse to listen! How could a man who can turn Jabberwocky (one of my favorite poems) into a song, all the while wearing red shoes, have any blemish on his reputation? It's like telling me that Santa Claus does not exist! I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE.