(THEME)
Tim Russell: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions....Guy Noir, Private Eye. (THEME FADE)
Garrison Keillor: It was October in St. Paul and turning cold so our illusions were over -- the rest of the country seems to think that we can dream and make it so, especially Wall Street and the bankers, but October is a reality check and so I was looking over my credit card bill very closely and I noticed a charge of $18 from Miyoko's To Go for won tons. It didn't seem possible that I had an $18 dollar won ton bill. Someone had obviously made a mistake so I dialed (SFX) up the number for customer service.
Sue Scott (SOUTHERN, ON PHONE): Thank you for calling BONA, Bank of North America. We've automated our phone system to better serve you, so why not just get used to it. Did you know you can pay your bill, check your balance and make transfers online? If you didn't, it may be that you're not paying attention. Yes, we do have a personal service representative, but I'd like to see you exhaust other possibilities before I tell you how to reach her. Please listen to the following menu of options to see what's going on here. And remember, if at any time you want to hang up, that's no skin off my nose.
SS: So, if you want to open an account press 1. To check your balance Press 2. for customer complaints -- ha! -- try pressing 3. see where it gets you -- (FADE INTO BRIDGE)
GK: Finally I pressed a whole bunch of zeros and got a person....
Fred Newman (SOUTHERN, ON PHONE): Hello. How may I help you?
GK: Yes, I want to ask about a charge on my credit card.....
FN (SOUTHERN, ON PHONE): You have asked to speak to someone at Bank of North America in person. We have set up an appointment for (TUESDAY) at (9 AM) and purchased (one) airline ticket to Charlotte for you. Your next bill will reflect this purchase. (BRIDGE)
GK: It seemed unusual to me, but I figured flying down to Charlotte might be quicker than staying on the line. So I got on the plane -- it was a regional airline, Carolina Air -- (JET ENGINE TAKING OFF)--
FN (ON P.A.): This is your pilot speaking. We have now reached our cruising altitude of 800 feet which personally I just find a whole lot more exciting than higher altitudes, and also it lets me get a bead on any geese that might be crossing our flight path. Hey. There's some now. Hang on. (PLANE DIVE, MACHINE GUN) -- (BRIDGE)
GK: By sheer chance I sat next to a man who worked at Bank of North America and I told him about my credit card problem.
Tim Russell: Why, eighteen dollars for won tons. That makes no sense. I'll take care of that with a phone call soon as we land.
GK: I appreciate that.
TR: And to make up for the anguish this has undoubtedly caused you, I'd like to invite you to my home. My name is James R. Chitwood. Here's my business card.
GK: Why it says here, you're the president.
TR: Yes, sir. I am.
GK: And yet you're sitting back here in tourist.
TR: Well, we've given out a lot of subprime mortgages to these folks and I'm curious to know how they're doing. (BRIDGE)
GK: The president of BONA lived in a 435-room home with a quarter-mile swimming pool and peacocks walking through the garden (PEACOCKS) and a fountain that shot water fifty feet in the air (SFX) as colored lights projected great works of art onto it--
TR: See there-- (FOUNTAIN) there's the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel -- and now-- (FOUNTAIN) there's Monet's "Water Lilies" -- and -- you're not offended by the female form are you?
GK: No, sir.
TR: Good. (FOUNTAIN) There's a nude by Degas. Nice, huh?
GK: Never saw a naked woman on water before.
TR: This is the New South, Mr. Noir. We're trying to bring in the arts.
GK: I see. (BRIDGE) He showed me a section of grass in which a poem was spelled out in white rocks--
TR: Robert Frost. Perhaps you're familiar with him.
GK: Indeed. "Whose lawn this is I think I know, he is a southern fellow though, he will not mind me stopping here to empty out a pint of beer." Nice. -- So you are from here, sir?
TR: You couldn't tell, could you.
GK: I wasn't sure.
TR: That's good. I sort of like people to think I might be Swiss.
SS (OFF): James?
TR: Want you to meet my trophy wife, Mr. Noir. Sarah graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Swarthmore. She wrote her senior thesis on James Joyce. She's no dummy.
GK: I can see that.
SS: We're hoping you'll stay for dinner, Mr. Noir. We're having barbecued squid on a bed of jasmine grits with a light suspension of sauteed okra in a chicken liver remoulade.
GK: Sounds wonderful.
(BRIDGE)
GK: She drifted away, a willowy woman in a long diaphanous white gown, barefoot, strewing flower petals as she went (SS SINGING WORDLESS LIEDER, OFF) She's a beautiful woman, Mr. Chitwood. You're a lucky man.
TR: I am, yes. But I have a problem, Mr. Noir. I hope I can trust you with this. Come. (BRIDGE)
GK: He drew me into a shadowy corner of the terrace. His face was tense with worry.
TR: I don't know a thing about subprime mortgages. Not a thing.
GK: You don't?
TR: I don't know what hedge funds are either. Do you?
GK: Sort of.
TR: What do they do? How do they work?
GK: I guess I don't know. I sort of knew until you asked me and then I didn't.
TR: I'm the president of one of the biggest banks in America, and I don't understand this stuff.
GK: Sort of a problem for you, I'd guess.
TR: I sit in these meetings of economists and I don't understand what they're talking about.
GK: So how do you decide what to do?
TR: My executive decisions are guided by a dog named Mr. Blue.
GK: I see.
TR: He was my hunting dog for years and then he passed away three years ago and now he directs my professional life from up there in the hereafter--
GK: Fascinating.
TR: He barks if I'm making a mistake, sometimes he points.
GK: Apparently he's been guiding you pretty well, sir.
TR: I know. But he's been gone for a couple of weeks. People come and ask me for decisions, I'm completely in the dark.
GK: You think he's upset?
TR: He may be. He doesn't care for the fountain. The Peacocks drive him nuts. He doesn't go for squid.
GK: What does he like?
TR: I used to sit on the porch and play the banjo and I'd sing to him and he'd come and put his head on my knee.
GK: You still play the banjo?
TR: Haven't in years. Suppose I could. Got one in here-- (HE REACHES) -- hidden in the ferns.
GK: What song did you sing to him on the porch?
TR: I'll show you. (TUNING BANJO) Gonna be a little rusty on this, though. I've been taking sackbut lessons. Banjo and sackbut don't have much in common.
GK: I imagine not.
TR: Anyway, it goes like this. (BANJO) (SINGS)
Mister Blue-- Mister Blu-u-u-ue
You good dog, you.
GK: That's it?
TR: That's it.
GK: The whole song?
TR: That's it.
GK: I like it.
TR & GK (SING): Mister Blue-- Mister Blu-u-u-ue.
You good dog, you.
GK: So is it working? Did he come back to you.
TR: No. Not really.
GK: My goodness-- look out there. We've been joined by several thousand people.
TR: My employees. I invited them to supper too.
GK: Maybe if we all sang.
TR: I think that'd do it.
GK: Folks -- some of the goodness of life depends on rational decisions made by intelligent people, and then a lot of the goodness of life depends on mystical intervention by unknown spirits, including those of dogs. For the sake of our community, join us.
ALL: Mister Blue-- Mister Blu-u-u-ue.
You good dog, you.
Mister Blue-- Mister Blu-u-u-ue.
You good dog, you.
(REVERB: WOOF)
TR: It's him. He's wagging his tail.
GK: The bank is saved.
TR: Yep. Maybe I'll go ahead and install those AGMs in the kitchen.
GK: AGMs?
TR: Automatic Grits Machine. You slide your card in and grits come slopping out.
GK: Sounds like a wonderful invention.
TR: Thank you, Mr. Noir.
GK: Thank those good folks out there.
(THEME)
SS (ANNC): A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets. But on the 12th floor of the Acme building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions. Guy Noir, Private Eye.