Ahh, Garrison Keillor.

For some reason, I find Garrison's response wise. (For those of you who don't have a clue who he is, Garrison Keillor hosts A Prairie Home Companion, a quirky radio show in the old radio variety show tradition. It's very middle America and makes me crave Grandma's cooking every time I listen to it.)

Dear Mr. Keillor,

I attended a screening of the PHC film tonight (as part of the Seattle International Film Festival) and it was a wild success, met with laughter, tears and applause. What a poignant, bittersweet reflection on how everything must end, and all we can do is be there for each other. I went in expecting to just see a movie about a radio show, and came out taking serious stock in how I'm spending (or wasting) my blip of time on this earth. Mr. Altman and yourself have created a gem of a film that is destined to become a classic, and I hope you are proud of this remarkable diamond in your career. Great performances all around as well—not the least of which from yourself! You have a stoic, natural acting ability and wonderful presence on screen, and I hope there's an occasion to see it again in the future. Congratulations and thank you for doing this movie.

Billy D.

Seattle

Glad you enjoyed the flick, Billy D.

You would've enjoyed the New York premiere on Sunday night at the Directors Guild theater on West 57th Street. A red carpet along the sidewalk, lined by thirty photogs and some TV cameras and radio reporters, so you walked from the limo up the line, people yelling at you, "This way! This way! To your right! Down here!" and you try to smile in a stoical way, as your wife clings to you as a branch in the storm, and then you look back and there is Virginia Madsen who is doing a real star turn in a red dress that is as low-cut as New York law permits, and the photographers are going bananas. And Lindsay Lohan behind her, who is similarly decked out, and Meryl Streep, and Kevin Kline. Had I walked up the sidewalk from Sixth Avenue, nobody would've paid any attention. But you walk on the red carpet (which is guarded by a man with a shaved head) and that makes you a star. And afterward the carpet is rolled up and we all become pedestrians ag ain. T hat's the lesson of life. All I can say is, it's different to experience this at the age of 63 than to grow up with it, as Miss Lohan has. So postpone your stardom, I say.

Garrison Keillor