It's good to be back in Minnesota. We get invitations to take the shows to other places ---- I think you know that ---- and we got an invitation to bring it to Hawaii, and I said, "You mean now? In March?" They said, "Sure, March. It's beautiful in Hawaii in March, the sea is warm, the beach, the air smells of flowers," and I said, "Yeah, but not like it is here in Minnesota. We have the beauty of the change of seasons. The transformation. Here we get to see spring arrive." I wrote a poem about this. A sonnet. (MUSIC UNDER)
When in Minnesota we arrive at the vernal equinox,
We know that grass and flowers are not quite here,
That more snow will fall on our driveway and sidewalks,
And that spring, as always, will be late this year.
I am not complaining, though if I did, I could go on all day,
I am tired, I am full of sadness, I am deeply depressed,
But I am not going to talk about it because I am okay.
We have always been okay, here in the Midwest.
If it snows in April, we don't curse, except to say, "Ufta."
If it snows in May, we say, "Oh, for pity's sake."
God in your mercy, please do not allow the ice on our roofta
Crush us in our sleep. Anything short of that, we can take.
And when the crocuses do come up, and the tulips, and the purple gentian,
We feel tremendous joy, though it is not anything we would ever mention.
Old Man Winter has another few weeks to go, and while he's here, he is trying to tell us something, and you know he is a realist. Winter tells you no lies. Winter tells you the cold hard truth.
TR (SLOWLY, GANGSTER VOICE, BUT NOT ITALIAN): Let me give you the big picture, fella --- you are over the hill, and you went over around the time you turned nineteen. Nature is interested in one thing, and one thing only, and that is reproduction, and the moment you're done raising your kids, nature's got no further use for you, so get out of the way. You're dead wood. Golden years? Ha. It's a waste of the food supply. You geezers in your fifties are a bunch of wounded buffalo lost in the blizzard, and the wolves are circling, pal, and one by one, they're gonna bring you down, so your carcasses can fertilize the grass. That's the fact of the matter, sorry if it hurts your feelings. (DISTANT WOLF)
GK: That's what you hear on a winter night. That's why so many people hate winter. In Minnesota, we usually get a couple of warm days in March, when spring leans over and whispers her old lies to us----
SS: You're not that old, you know --- you look so young --- have you lost weight? you have, haven't you ---- I love your hair like that ---- have you been outside a lot? you have such nice color ---- you have the most attractive legs-----
GK: And then the temperature drops the next day, and winter returns.
TR: Don't believe a thing she told you. She is a romantic, and believe me, romance has no place in nature. All nature wants is procreation. Do it, get it done, give birth, raise your young, and then take the long walk out across the ice floes. That's nature's plan. That's what's natural. Romance on the part of people who are past the prime breeding age is a perversion of nature. After you've had your children, there is no point in love---- you may as well take that long walk. And don't come back.
GK: So you listen to winter for a few more weeks, and then his voice gets very faint.....
TR (WHISPER): You're old and you're only in the way, and next year I'm going to get you out of there, you wait and see.
GK: And then it's spring....
SS: You have such beautiful hair. And you have very pretty feet. And you are so charming. Everybody is talking about you. Everybody is saying, "Look at that man. Can you believe that man is thirty-two years old?"
GK: I'm more than thirty-two years old.
SS: You're not either.
GK: I am.
SS: Who told you that? Winter? Don't believe it.
GK: I'm old and bitter. Disillusioned. Don't kid me.
SS: You're a romantic. You've always followed your heart.
GK: Followed it to the wrong places. Wound up disappointed, hurt, even lonelier than I was before. Love always breaks your heart.
SS: You can't give up on love ---- love is the meaning of life---
GK: Love is a major depressant.
SS: Only afterward. But wasn't it wonderful just before you got depressed? The way you looked at her---- and your face felt hot ---- and you wished she would look at you ---- and then she did, and she smiled ---- and she came over to you ---- and there was that look in her eye ---- would you turn your back on that look?
GK: No, I wouldn't.
SS: Of course you wouldn't. Have a wonderful spring --- I really like your feet, by the way.
HELLO YOUNG LOVERS
© 1997 by Garrison Keillor