(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, RD: Rich Dworsky, TR: Tim Russell)
Tonight's show brought to you by the Ketchup Advisory Board.

TR: These are the good years for Barb and me. The upstairs toilet stopped running finally, we changed our last name so the children's creditors no longer bother us, and after six months the art finally downloaded on my computer so I can use it again. Which is why I was surprised the other day to find Barb still in bed when I came home from work.

TR: Barb? What's wrong?

SS: Nothing. Just tired. You have a good day at the office, dear.

TR: Barb, it's six o'clock at night, I'm coming home from work. See, it's dark out.

SS: Wow, time sure flies when you're clinically depressed.

TR: What's wrong, honey?

SS: I'm just feeling inadequate. Other than that, I'm fine.

TR: But why?

SS: It's my book club. This month, we're supposed to be reading Toni Morrison's "Beloved."

TR: And?

SS: I couldn't make it past page 32. I just don't get it. All those ghosts. And last month, we were supposed to read Virginia's Wolff's "To the Lighthouse." I started reading and it was exciting and I was having a great time and then I woke up. I was on page four and it was covered with drool. Everything I thought I was reading about - the horses, the beach, the naked plumber - it wasn't there. Jim, I'm an intellectual lightweight. That's all there is to it.

TR: But Barb, if you're not in a book club, we won't be able to live in this neighborhood.

SS: I realize that.

TR: But just last week you were reading the biography of Leonardo Da Vinci?

SS: Leonardo Di Caprio.

TR: Oh.

SS: Last week at book club, we were talking about what to read next and I suggested Barbara Cartland. There was a terrible silence. Beth said, "Do you mean Barbara Kingsolver?" - Jim, I've never heard of Barbara Kingsolver.

TR: You didn't say that -

SS: I did. I said, "Who's she?" People looked at me as if I had dropped my underwear.

TR: Oh dear.

SS: And then I looked down. I had the wrong book in my hand. Instead of "Beloved," I had brought "The Regis Philbin Story."

TR: Oh oh.

SS: I pretended it wasn't mine, that I had found it on the street, but they knew. Oh Jim, what can I do?

TR: You know what you need right now, Barb?

SS: A little education.

TR: No, you need ketchup. Only ketchup has natural mellowing agents that help assuage feelings of inadequacy.

SS: Really?

TR: C'mon, put on your robe and slippers, and I'll rustle you up some ketchup 'n eggs.

SS: Oh, Jim.

RD: Rocky mountain sunset, valleys filled with fog,
Campfire blazing, sparks fly from a log,
Red clouds at evening, like ketchup on a dog.

GK: Ketchup. For the good times.

(c) 1999 by Garrison Keillor