I'd contemplated the five-hr. drive to Bayfield, last autumn, because I've only heard you on my radio, these decades, every Sat., and Sunday.
(I've wished to see you Live, for too long.)
You're such a treat (as you know, since others wax poetic about P.H.C.). My mate (passed of Covid) ...we'd listen to you twice, every weekend.
I'll, hopefully, be attending with the individual that introduced me to your show.
When he did, I was working at The American Club, in Kohler, Wisconsin. Our G.M. had the show playing in an elegant conference room, with plush seating, of course.
Without fail, any given weekend, an exuberant fan of yours would excitedly inquire, "Is he here?!"
And another, "Is Garrison here!?" ..."Where is he?".
I'm not exaggerating, and I was so happy that I'd "met your acquaintance" through my house speakers, by this point. I could share their joy, and their disappointment that you were not in-person.
I peeked in the fancy conference room, to hear your voice booming through those historical halls, and smiled.
You are loved, Garrison.
Darn it. Now I have tears welling-up as I recall your fans at the hotel. They anxiously wanted to see you. I see their faces, forever burned in my memory.
GK you are always several steps ahead of me with many of your manifestations....stories, songs, limericks, etc and such as the one you wrote for your dear mother some time ago:
"My mother whom I adored
Is in heaven where, with one accord,
Saints clang their balls
In heavenly halls
As they fall on their knees to the Lord."
I have no idea what your concept of "Saints clang their balls" means. Help me out here! what balls?
I'd suggest insteads: "Saints played their heavenly chime, and they played them in time...And in heavenlty accord they fall on thier knees to the Lord." Or some-such verse better....
Your mother's name, "Grace" belongs in the limerick too...it's now 2024 and it needs a tweak or two. I know it's not easy when it's your mother.....Tom K
I'm overjoyed,
with tears in my eyes,
that you're arriving in Packerland, Garrison❣️
I'd contemplated the five-hr. drive to Bayfield, last autumn, because I've only heard you on my radio, these decades, every Sat., and Sunday.
(I've wished to see you Live, for too long.)
You're such a treat (as you know, since others wax poetic about P.H.C.). My mate (passed of Covid) ...we'd listen to you twice, every weekend.
I'll, hopefully, be attending with the individual that introduced me to your show.
When he did, I was working at The American Club, in Kohler, Wisconsin. Our G.M. had the show playing in an elegant conference room, with plush seating, of course.
Without fail, any given weekend, an exuberant fan of yours would excitedly inquire, "Is he here?!"
And another, "Is Garrison here!?" ..."Where is he?".
I'm not exaggerating, and I was so happy that I'd "met your acquaintance" through my house speakers, by this point. I could share their joy, and their disappointment that you were not in-person.
I peeked in the fancy conference room, to hear your voice booming through those historical halls, and smiled.
You are loved, Garrison.
Darn it. Now I have tears welling-up as I recall your fans at the hotel. They anxiously wanted to see you. I see their faces, forever burned in my memory.
You're an American Treasure, sir.
Respectfully.
~ Tamara C.B.
GK you are always several steps ahead of me with many of your manifestations....stories, songs, limericks, etc and such as the one you wrote for your dear mother some time ago:
"My mother whom I adored
Is in heaven where, with one accord,
Saints clang their balls
In heavenly halls
As they fall on their knees to the Lord."
I have no idea what your concept of "Saints clang their balls" means. Help me out here! what balls?
I'd suggest insteads: "Saints played their heavenly chime, and they played them in time...And in heavenlty accord they fall on thier knees to the Lord." Or some-such verse better....
Your mother's name, "Grace" belongs in the limerick too...it's now 2024 and it needs a tweak or two. I know it's not easy when it's your mother.....Tom K