Garrison Keillor: ...after this word from the Ketchup Advisory Board.
Tim Russell: These are the good years for Barb and me. She cleaned out my tie rack and put sixteen ties up for sale on eBay and it turns out they're rare relics from the Seventies, and after a ferocious bidding war between two collectors in Japan, we got a check for eight thousand dollars. We went out to Campus Pizza restaurant to celebrate, and ordered the deluxe family size, when suddenly she turned all moody and owly. Honey, what's wrong?
Sue Scott: Oh Jim, everytime I come near a college campus I just feel old and depressed.
TR: But we just won a snootful of money, Barb. For a bunch of ugly neckties.
SS: I know. But I can't help wishing we'd won it thirty years ago, back when eight thousand dollars really meant something.
TR: Oh Barb--
SS: And the smell of pizza reminds me of Rudolpho. The Italian exchange student. My old boyfriend.
TR: Who? You never told me about him.
SS: I used to ride around on the back of his Vespa, with my arms around him. His hair smelled of olive oil. He was so beautiful.
TR (ITALIAN, HIGHER, A LITTLE PUZZLED)
SS: Oh, my gosh-- the waiter--he looks exactly like Rudolpho.
TR: Barb-- sit down--
SS: He and I used to lie in the grass under a poplar tree and he used to play his mandolin and sing me songs-- o, darling--bellissimo--
TR (ITALIAN, HIGHER, QUESTION):
SS: Sing! Sing of love! Sing of all that could have been!
SS: Sing, gypsy lover!
TR (ITALIAN, SINGING OPERATICALLY)
SS: Hold me in your arms! Rudolpho!
TR: Barb-- his name is Kevin. It's written right there on his name tag.
SS: I've lived my whole life scared! Scared of making a spectacle of myself. I want to live life-- while there's still time--
TR: Was there something odd on this pizza? Like anchovies--
SS: I want to be free-- (SHE SINGS TO HERSELF AS SHE DOES A TANGO STEP)
TR: I think it's the anchovies.
SS: (SINGS A HIGH NOTE)
TR: Definitely anchovies. Waiter-- facino-- bring us some ketchup. Prego.
TR (ITALIAN, HIGH, HURRYING AWAY)
SS: Ketchup? Why ketchup?
TR: Ketchup contains natural mellowing agents , that settle us down and keep us from torturing ourselves wondering about what might've been.
SS: But I want la dolce vita, Jim. I want to live -- (SINGS) appassionata!
TR: The grass is not greener, Barb. Grass is grass. The poet Dana Gioa wrote: Memory insists on pining / for places it never went / As if life would be better / just by being different
SS: Jim...you're reciting poetry!
TR: I just read it off the placemat. Now whadda you say, Barb -- let's take the anchovies off this pizza and put some ketchup on instead.
SS: Oh Jim, what would I do without you?
TR: We'll never know, Barb. We'll never know.
Rich Dworsky (SINGS): These are the good times, bright February days Hearts full of passion, lifted up in praise, Life is flowing, like ketchup on souffles.
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD: Ketchup, ketchup.