(MUSIC)
GK: People ask me if storytelling is a dying art, and the answer is, yes ---- it's an art you have to learn when you're young. When I was a kid and my father said....
TR: So where were you? Tell me the truth or I'll send ya to yer room for the rest of the day.
GK: I tried to give my father a wonderful story....
MATT: I was riding my bike around looking for a job, Dad, so I could pay my own way to camp and I was about to go in the grocery store and I saw a tiny child --- a child with white hair and blue eyes and he was holding a tiny American flag and he was walking out into the street and I grabbed him just as a semi truck loaded with chickens went past at 60 miles per hour (TRUCK GOES PAST, CHICKENS) and I went door to door trying to find the parents, and I knocked on one door and there was no answer and --- I just had a hunch --- I went in and they were lying unconscious on the floor, a bookcase had fallen on them, and I got them out from under it and gave them artificial respiration and they came to and they were so happy and the father said, "How can we ever repay you?" and I said, "Your happiness is payment enough for me, sir," ---- and he said, "We'll never forget you, young man," and I slipped away without giving them my name or anything --- and anyway, that's why I'm a little late.
GK: Young people don't tell stories like that anymore. When young people tell stories, they go like....
FRED: So he looks at me, like, Oh yeah? and I go, like, Really? and he sort of goes, like, What? and then Patty is like, Oh? and then I go, like, No way, and he's like, Huh? and I go, like, Who cares? and she's like, Oh well.
GK: You see the difference?
MACY: Yes. What did your dad say when you told him about saving the little kid?
GK: He looked at me and said....
TR: That is the biggest piece of horse hockey I ever heard in my life. Go upstairs and stay there til I tell ya to come down.
GK: But for a storyteller, going to your room is exactly what you want. If they wanted to punish you, they should make you go out and play with other children. I loved to sit up in my room and write stories.
MACY: Cool.
GK: Mostly, I wrote stories about lonely guys whose best friends were animals. Like "Brent And His Singing Elk, Bud". JOE: You're my best friend, Bud, said Stan, as he sat in his lonely room, the walls covered with posters of airbrushed Hollywood starlets. You're the only one who really understands me (ELK). They look at me and see a nerd with dumb hair and clothes and the wrong brand of shoes, and you look inside and see the artist who I really am. (ELK) But they'll see. Tomorrow I'm going to take you to school with me, Bud. (ELK) I'll hide you in the audio-visual room. And then I'm going to bring you up the back stairs to the auditorium. (ELK) I've entered you in the talent show. I want you to sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," Bud. (ELK) You can do it. Sing it, Bud. (ELK SINGS "SOMEWHERE").
GK: That's the sort of story I liked to write. Stories with magic in them.
MACY: Cool. Did the elk win the talent show?
GK: Bud? No. He got panicky going up the backstairs and he completely forgot "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" and he did "Memories" from Cats which is not that good a song, even sung by an elk. MACY: Interesting. Where did you learn to tell stories? GK: I learned right here at Interlochen.
MACY: Is that right?
GK: Yes.
MACY: Really? You went to Interlochen?
GK: You're surprised, aren't you.
MACY: Somehow, you don't look like someone with an arts background.
GK: No, you see, I came from---- my natural parents were Broadway actors, Ruby Keeler and Sir John Keilgud who happened to be on tour in the Midwest playing Shakespeare when I was born --- my birth came as a complete surprise to my mother.....(INFANT SFX)
CF: So that's what that was! A baby!
TR: You didn't know?
CF: I thought it was a really bad hangover.
TR: Well, I couldn't tell either---- you seemed as slim as ever --- by the way, you were wonderful as Juliet tonight.
CF: Thank you. Good this didn't happen during the balcony scene. ----But what do we do with this---- this baby? And why is he making that face?
TR: Well, we push him around in a baby buggy and feed him, I suppose.
CF: But to raise a child amidst the false values of the theater, the glamour, the easy morals---- oooohhhh. Smell that. Pew.
TR: Quite so.
CF: We should give him to someone normal to raise. Some Midwestern family. Somebody who has those pink sort of furry toilet seat covers and a lot of those little plastic boxes in their refrigerator full of leftover hotdish and Jell-O.
TR: We'll leave him on the doorstep of some Lutheran potato farmers.
GK: So they did. They left me with Sigurd and Signe, who were very good to me, (TR NORSK GIBBERISH) and fed me plenty of mashed potatoes and meatloaf (TR: Oh boy) and gave me a dog (WOOFS) and let me drive a tractor (TRACTOR), and I worked hard picking potatoes. My father's English wasn't good, and when I said, "Vacation." he didn't know what I meant. (TR NORSK BEWILDERMENT) And then one day----
TR (NORSK): Hey. Look here then. We got a letter from New York. And lookit there. It's a check for two thousand dollars.
CF (NORSK): Well, I'll be jiggered.
GK: It was from Sir John Keilgud.
TR (ECHO): I understand you have a son of artistic temperament. Please use half the money to send him to Interlochen Arts Camp. And use the other half to buy yourselves an RV, or an LP, or whatever. Sincerely--- Sir John.
CF (NORSK): Well, isn't that something then.
(STEAM ENGINE TRAIN)
GK: So off I went to Interlochen. I was fourteen. It was wonderful. All those cabins on the shore and (LOON) loons on the lake and the pine trees and all that wonderful music. (PIANO CHOPINESQUE)
MARK: Which part of camp were you in?
GK: I was in dance.
MACY: Oh, really---- dance?
GK: Yes, I was in dance camp. (MODERN DANCE PIANO, SLOW) I had long blonde hair back then that I tied up in a bun and I went around in black leotards and I held my head quite high and I ate only burnt toast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I auditioned with a solo piece entitled "Dimensions Intersections Passwords/456". I made up the title myself.
MACY: How was it?
GK: Brilliant. It was so good I would never be that good again, and I quit. (MUSIC CHANGE) I switched to photography. (SHUTTER) Black and white. (SHUTTER) Pictures of brutal naked reality. (SHUTTER) Pictures of raw human need and savage behavior. (SHUTTER) Pictures of Interlochen campers eating lunch. (SHUTTER) People at the taco bar. (SHUTTER) Desserts. And then one day I was taking pictures in the woods when I came upon a cottage. And inside I heard music. (VIOLIN: SPRING SONG) I knocked on the door. (KNOCKS) And inside there was a blind man.
TR (OLD MAN): Welcome, my son. Come in. Do you like music?
GK: And he taught me to play violin. Just like that. One night. Next day I auditioned for orchestra....(VIOLIN: BIG CADENZA)
MARK: That's pretty good, except you're tuned way sharp.
GK: The blind man had forgotten to teach me how to tune----
MARK: So we'll switch you to viola, where it doesn't matter so much.
GK: Okay.
MARK: And remember: the most important rule in orchestra is--- when the others stop playing, you stop too, no matter how many bars you have left to go.
GK: I'll remember that.
MACY: But where did you learn the art of narrative?
GK: Learned that in orchestra.
MACY: I see----
GK: You play in the viola section, you have time to kill, so---- you tell stories.
MACY: Didn't you get in trouble?
GK: No, because you see the orchestra was so much bigger then than it is now. there was more interest in classical music then. There were eighteen thousand kids in it. And that was just the viola section. It was six miles wide, the Interlochen orchestra.
FRED: I heard about that. It stretched from here halfway to town, right?
GK: Right. It was the world's largest orchestra.
FRED: It was bigger than Duluth.
GK: Bigger than St. Paul.
FRED: Three hundred thousand kids.
GK: Something like that. They never had enough music stands. You had to make your own, out of clotheshangers or just put a forked stick in the ground.
FRED: But how were you able to see the conductor?
GK: He would ascend in a hot air balloon and conduct from about five hundred feet but most of the time you couldn't see him. And you know, the music sounded better that way. He sent up a rocket when it was time to start and everybody played, and when we had a few bars of rest, we'd tell stories. Or we'd swim. The two violists behind me would sit there with their shotguns across their laps, watching for mergansers. (SHOTGUN BLAST)
MARK: You get him?
MATT: Missed him.
MARK: Thought you got him.
MATT: Nope. Missed him.
MARK: You sure?
MATT: Missed him. I lead him a little too far.
MARK: Look out! (WHISTLING FALLING OBJECT, SPLAT)
MATT: Guess I got him.
(MUSIC)
GK: I was happy in the viola section. The violas were arranged in a meadow and up a hill and around a little pond and we'd go swimming during rehearsal. And then one day Sir John Keilgud and Ruby Keeler came to visit ----
CF: Excuse me, young man----
TR: Do you know the way to the theater department?
GK: Yes, but it's a long way from here. This is the viola section.
CF: I noticed that. We're supposed to be at the theater.
GK: You're actors?
TR: Are we actors? Are we actors? Did I hear you say--- ARE WE ACTORS? Are we actors---- oh my. Are.....we......actors???
CF: You know--- there's something so familiar about you. Did you grow up among potato farmers, by any chance?
GK: Yes, I did.
CF: And were they good to you?
GK: Yes.
CF: I'm glad.
GK: And she kissed me lightly on the cheek and I smelled her delicate fragrance that brought back a memory buried deep in my subconscious---- and I put down my viola and offered to guide them out of the orchestra to the theater.
CF: Oh thank you.
TR: Most kind --- most kind.
GK: And I led them out of the viola section and over the hill just as the maestro came over in his hot air balloon (GAS BURSTS FROM DISTANCE. TK GIBBERISH) and he was shouting and waving and nobody knew what about and then (ROCKET) they all started playing the 1812 Overture (BEGINNING OF 1812) and we went through the woods and it was full of woodwinds and I took a wrong turn on a gravel road and got into the bass section (GUYS LAUGHING, PARTY SCENE) and you know how bass players are, they were up in the trees (WHOOPING), they were playing behind their backs, they were horsing around with marshmallows and stuff (WHOOPING, LAUGHTER), and I led Ruby and Sir John over the hill and eventually we came to the percussion section. There were thousands of percussionists including a woodpecker (RAPID TEMPLE BLOCK) and a dog who was wagging his tail against a bass drum (WOOF, PANTING, THUMPS). And you know how percussionists stand around most of the time---- these guys had used their time to plant a big garden full of tomatoes and sweet corn and peppers and lettuce.
FRED: Hi. Welcome to the percussion section. I'm Barbara Barton and this is Bobby Bruton....
MARK: Hi.
MACY: And this is Rebecca Backstrom.
AMY: Hi.
MACY: And this is Burton Benton.
MATT: Hi.
FRED: And going down the line, we have Brent Barker, Bart Brewster, Bruce Baxter, Bix Beiderbeck, Becky Bernstein, Betty Bitters, Bernetta Bobbsey, Bob Bobalopoulous, Buster Burns, Beatrice Bathsheba, Barb Babbitt, Bebe Bobbitt, Bubba Bixby, Buckminster Backlund, and so on.
GK: So you're all in percussion, huh? Like you to meet a couple actors from New York. Ruby Keeler and Sir John Keilgud.
CF: Lovely.
TR: Our pleasure. I--- I didn't catch all your names though.
GK: Never mind that. Who's conducting, by the way?
MARK: No idea.
GK: What's for lunch today?
AMY: Buttered baby lima beans, barbecue beef, and tapioca pudding.
GK: When's the concert over?
AMY: Soon as the cannons go off.
GK: You use real cannons?
AMY: Of course.
MARK: We have two thousand cannons. All loaded and ready to be lit. Here--- here's a torch. (POOF)
GK: Thanks, Burton.
MARK: No, he's Burton. Burton Benton. I'm Bobby Bruton.
GK: I see.
MARK: Burton Benton, Rebecca Backstrom, Barbara Barton, Brent Barker, Bart Brewster, Bruce Baxter, Bix Beiderbeck, Becky Bernstein, Betty Bitters, Bernetta Bobbsey, Bob Bobalopoulous, Buster Burns, Beatrice Bathsheba, Barb Babbitt, Bebe Bobbitt, Bubba Bixby, Buckminster Backlund, and so on.
GK: And just then, as I stood in the percussion section holding a flaming torch, who should arrive but Sigurd and Signe, my mom and dad.
TR (NORSK): Hi there. We been looking all over for ya.
CF (NORSK): Ya, they said you were in the viola section but we looked there and ya weren't.
GK: Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet some people I know from New York, Ruby and Sir John....
CF: Charmed, I'm sure.
TR: Where did you say you were from?
CF (NORSK): Oh we're from out in western Minnesota there.
TR (NORSK): Ya, just a coupla potato farmers. You know....
CF: Fascinating.
GK: And suddenly it was time for the finale. Bye, folks.
MARK: You go that way! I'll head down here. (HORSE WHINNY)
MATT: You ready?
MACY: Come on, everybody!
MARK: Let's go! (HORSE WHINNY)
ALL: WHOOPS AND SHOUTS ("LET'S GO" "LET'S TORCH IT" "COME ON" ETC)
GK: And we ran off down the rows of cannons (CANNONS START GOING OFF. ORCH IN FINALE OF 1812) and the air was filled with smoke and flames and music and we lit the fuses and the orchestra played and one cannonball hit the hot air balloon (DISTANT SPLAT, TK CRY, RASPBERRY EXPULSION OF HOT AIR) and the conductor came to earth and it was pretty wonderful. (MUSIC COMES TO END, AND CANNONS) And then we went to lunch in the cafeteria (VOICES, ENGAGED IN STRUGGLE, PHYSICAL FORCE) and we ate buttered beans and barbecue and tapioca and I never played music again.
FRED: No? Why not?
GK: Once you've had an experience that intense, you can never repeat it.
FRED: So you left Interlochen and went to Minnesota and became a fiction writer.
GK: Well, first I was a fashion model for a couple years and then I went to the Antarctic and then I pitched a couple seasons for the Toledo Mudhens until I injured my arm throwing a cow over a brick wall.
FRED: I see. And after that you became a fiction writer.
GK: Right.
FRED: In Minnesota.
GK: In Minnesota. And in Kuala Lumpur. And the outer islands of the Rawalpindi Archepelago. But mostly in Minnesota.
FRED: And you perfected the craft of storytelling.
GK: Actually I learned it from Lana.
FRED: Lana.
GK: Lana Mahalakahuna.
FRED: Who is Lana Mahalakahuna?
GK: That's a whole other story.
FRED: I see.
MUSIC BUTTON
© 1996 Garrison Keillor