(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell)
Tonight's show brought to you by Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
You're the host of a radio show called the Great Plains Residential Comrade, and it's a show that's been going quite a few years (A BLEARY OLD TISHOMINGO) and so the fans - (SS GEEZER: Yes?) - the fans tend to be older folks (SS GEEZER: Who?) and the music is of another era (SS GEEZER SINGS: Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away) and the musicians are bussed in from the Dotted Rest retirement home (A THIN WAVERING VIOLIN) and the actors sit around the Green Room reminiscing about their younger days (TR GEEZER: I remember when I wore bib overalls and my hair down to my butt! TK GEEZER: Yeah, you used to drink Boone's Farm. SS GEEZER: That's right. The Big Bambu Album. Cheech & Chong. Boy, that was funny. TR: Far out! TK GEEZER: Boone's Farm Apple Wine. SS: That's what I said. Big Bambu.) and you never wanted to be in show business in the first place - because of the phoniness (SS: Dahling. TR: Hello! A BOUT OF KISSING. SS: Do I know you? TR: Now you do. MORE KISSING) and the naked ambition (SNARLING AND HOWLING) and all those kids with that gleam in their eye looking for their chance
(GRACE: Mister Wyler - listen - please. CHENILLES SONG BYTE ONE) GK: Thank you. It's wonderful. Meanwhile you're just hoping you can hold on for another year. GK REVERB: Please, Lord. One more year, and I can retire to Florida and play golf. (GOLF SWING, KONK, CROWD OOOOHHHH.) Retire to Florida and watch the Daytona 500. (RACE CARS PASSING) Retire to Florida and sail. (CREAKING OF RIGGING, WIND, WASH OF WAVES) Retire to Florida and - (LATIN MUSIC) dance! (LATINO SHOUTS AND TRILLS) But first, I've got to hang on to my job and not draw the attention of people in management. (AN OMINOUS SAXOPHONE CHORD.) Management.
(REPEATED WHISPERS: "MANAGEMENT") The land of the vice-presidents.
TR: Wyler?
GK: Yes, sir?
TR: Twitchell. Vice-President for Program Euthanasia. We need to talk.
GK: Yes, sir.
TR: In my office.
GK: Yes, sir.
TR: Up on the chair. (WHIP) Up. Up. (WHIP)
GK: I'm on the chair, sir.
TR: Not that chair. That chair! (WHIP) Up! Up! (WHIP) - Good. Good boy.
GK: A humiliating half-hour follows during which Mr. Twitchell tells you that unless your show shapes up and your audience demographics get down into at least the mid-sixties -
TR: Ffffftt. Y'know what that means?
GK: I know, sir.
TR: That's good, Wyler.
GK: And you know what you need to do, you need to hire a young New Age pianist like John Tush (PIANO UNDER) (TR HERO: Hello. I'm a football hero with a jaw as big as a breadbox and I sit and play chords on the piano as I go through my repertoire of extremely sensitive facial expressions. Mmmmm. Ohhhhh. Yessss. Ahhhhhh.....) (MUSIC) John Tush is selling CDs by the truckload. If you had him and you also had a 21-year-old singer-songwriter with chopped-off hair who sings about eating disorders - but you don't have those people, you have aging folk singers (TR SINGS DYLANESQUE: Yes, and how many roads must a frog jump across before he goes 'round the world, And how much wood must a woodchuck chuck before you call him a squirrel.) and you have those kids with the stars in their eyes (GRACE: Listen, Mr. Wyler. SECOND SONG BYTE.)
GK: Good. Let me think about it. (DOOR CLOSE.) More and more, you like to be alone in your tiny office, just you and your dog. (PANTING, JINGLING) And your memories of bygone triumphs.
(MEMORY REVERB ON TK P.A. VOICE: And now ... a man who needs no introduction ... winner of this year's Wally Award ...). And your medications. (GULP. SWALLOWING WATER.) Your phone calls all go to the machine. (SS PHONE MESSAGE: Hello. This is the phone mail system. The party you have called - GK: Carson Wyler - SS: Is not available.) and the sign on your door says - TR READING: Hazardous Gas Storage Area - Breathing Masks Required Beyond This Point.)
(KNOCKS ON DOOR) GK: If I just lie face down on the floor and don't move, they'll go away. (KNOCKS) GK: If I take shallow breaths and pull this antimacassar over my head -
(DOOR OPENS. GRACE: Mr. Wyler - please. CHENILLES THIRD SONG BYTE) GK: Let me think about it. (MUSIC) And you think about it, and meanwhile management is thinking about it too - (DARTH VADER BREATHING) somewhere, a vice-president is writing a death memo - TR DARTH: Your position has been terminated. We will hire you as a contractor to do your old job for $8 an hour, no health benefits. (BREATHING) And your dog is thinking about it too. (TK DOG: I've been thinking that maybe it'd be good if you and I spent some time apart.) And your fans are thinking about it.
(SS GEEZER: Boy, you've been at it a long time, haven't you.) And you're surrounded by insincerity
(TR: It was fabulous! I loved it! Loved everything! You were beautiful! AIR KISS) and by raw ambition (SNARLING) and by all those young kids with the stars in their eyes (GRACE: Mr. Wyler?? CHENILLES FOURTH SONG BYTE).
(RHUBARB THEME)
Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie? Yes, nothing gets the taste of humiliation out of your mouth like Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
(RHUBARB SONG)
(c) 1998 by Garrison Keillor