Tuning in

I'm actually very excited to see the Prairie Home Companion movie. I'm a big Robert Altman fan and -- I proudly admit it -- a big Garrison Keillor fan. That's the weirdest movie collaboration since Ken Russell and Pete Townshend made Tommy.

Or maybe since Altman, Jules Feiffer, Harry Nilsson and Robin Williams made Popeye.

Good word

"For a generation, A Prairie Home has been the soundtrack of being stuck in the car with your parents."

-- Michael Agger

Duh

As everyone who knows a dummy knows, being a dummy is a serious hindrance. That is why a series of books gives hope to all dummies. Any body of knowledge, it turns out, is comprehensible to even the most insensate clods, as long as it is presented in the manner of an eighth-grade textbook. (And as long as they can read.)

But what about the smarties? We've all met people who are simply too intelligent for their own good, whose powers of reasoning get in the way of performing even the simplest tasks. My brilliant boyfriend Ereck was pointing this out last night, and thereby conceived of a new series of books. So what do you think? I present to you his inaugural title: Container Gardening for the Overanalytical.

Whew

Last night I dreamed that Wisconsin State Journal page-two columnist (and former Isthmus staffer) Melanie Conklin ran an item saying I had been spotted in possession of marijuana. Not smoking marijuana, just in possession of it. In the dream, I entered a panicked frenzy.

Then I was relieved to awaken not in dreamland Madison but in real-life Madison, where it's considered surreal not to be in possession of marijuana.

For the record, I'm not in possession of marijuana.

Moo

I drink milk. Two percent milk. I fill big glasses with cold milk and drink it with lunch, dinner, cake. Part of me feels like this is a child's dietary practice I should have given up long ago. But still I drink milk. Do you?

Spit take

This is a first: in the mail yesterday, I got a friendly note from Senate majority leader Bill Frist of Tennessee. In his letter he included a survey with questions like, "Do you agree that strengthening our Republican Majority in the U.S. Senate is critical to passing President Bush's agenda and fighting for America's future?" (And, of course, "Should Congress continue to pursue a Constitutional amendment to protect marriage as the union of a man and a woman?")

In his letter to me, Frist writes: "With careful consideration of those who are most active in their support of President Bush and the Republican Party, you have been selected to represent your district." Wha?!?!?!?!

I assume I got this because I subscribe to Fortune magazine, which I read mostly for the pictures of naked people. But seriously, I just happen to enjoy business reporting, which is why I also regularly read the Wall Street Journal and listen to the noon business hour on WBBM, the news radio station out of Chicago. But just because I enjoy business journalism does not mean I appreciate getting crank mail from fringe personalities!

I started to reply to Frist's letter by scribbling in the margins, but then I decided I would just be begging for a tax audit. I stopped before I got to scrawl, "As a native Tennesseean, sir, I am ashamed ..."

Va voom

I don't think I fully appreciated the fact that the Clash's Joe Strummer was a total hottie.