(GK: Garrison Keillor, TR: Tim Russell, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, RD: Rich Dworsky)

.....brought to you by the Ketchup Advisory Board.

TR: These are the good years for me and Barb. Barb has a life coach now and after four weeks of therapy, Barb was able to clean out four big closets we hadn't used since the Gerald Ford administration and in one of them we discovered a box full of LPs, like the Grateful Dead --- We sat and listened to "Ripple" and got all emotional. The other day I discovered that when you hit the dishwasher right under the dial with the flat of your palm, it doesn't make that high-pitched grinding sound. We read a book that suggests that our kids maybe aren't emotionally damaged, just immature, and they'll grow out of it in their late-thirties or forties. And we found a weight-loss diet based on red meat so long as you drink red wine with it. We should have been happy. And then, the other morning, I came downstairs to find Barb sniffling into a paper towel. Barb, what's wrong? (SS SNIFFLE, BLOW NOSE)

SS: Oh, Jim. I feel so ugly. So fat. Every time I read Vogue, it makes me feel like an aging hippo.

TR: Well, let's switch to National Geographic then.

SS: And I've had this pager for three weeks and nobody's paged me even once!

TR: That's good. It means the kids haven't tried to break out of the treatment center.

SS: And I've been so lonely since Mr. Pookie ran away----

TR: Our cat????

SS: Yes. He was somebody I could talk to.

TR: That was six months ago!

SS: I never got over it. I still have abandonment issues. I was talking to my life coach about it. She gave me a cat video to watch. But it's not the same as Mr. Pookie.

TR: Barb ----

SS: I didn't throw away the clothes from the closets, Jim. I couldn't. They're in the trunk of my car.

TR: Barb ----

SS: Jim, if I just lost thirty pounds, I could wear them again.

TR: Barb, are you getting enough ketchup?

SS: Maybe not-----

TR: Ketchup has natural mellowing agents, so you'll be able to relax, and realize that you're still quite a looker, for a woman your age, even if you can't fit into the Lycra blouse.

SS: Oh, Jim.

RD: Ballet and painting and the operas of Puccini
Flowers and red wine and the movies of Fellini
Good things are flowing like ketchup on a weenie

GK: Ketchup. For the good times

(c) 2001 by Garrison Keillor