Garrison keillor podcast downloads

Christmas Day. It's the birthday Kenneth Rexroth He published more than 50 books of poetry and once said, "Man thrives where angels would die of ecstasy and where pigs would die of disgust. Sean delivers a story about the holidays from the historic Imogene Theater in Milton, Florida.

Music by Trout Steak Revival. Methodist hymn writer Charles Wesley was born on this day, , in Epworth England. Bankruptcy was set up to deal instead with unpayable debts. Jane Austen was born on this day, , in England.

Author of "Pride and Prejudice", "Emma" and "Persuasion. These powerful statements were spearheaded by James Madison, later the 4th president of the United States. It was on this day in that the Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen and his team became the first people ever to reach the South Pole.

Willa Cather was born on this day, Born in England, she wrote about frontier life in Canada, compared to the Little House books, but with the goal of discouraging English people from undertaking the adventure. Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone. It's the birthday of poet and artist William Blake, Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas. Today is the birthday of Swedish astronomer Anders Celsius, who invented the Celsius temperature scale.

The Bill Simmons Podcast. First Take. Adam Carolla Show. Comedy of the Week. How Did This Get Made? Doug Loves Movies. The Economist Podcasts. Our lust for Chinese-made clothing, cellphones, computers, and cars will settle the matter.

End of story. I walked around looking at the snow and noticed people flocking to the hardware store to buy plastic sliders and tiny toboggans. A good hard winter is a restorative. A good snowfall for Epiphany is a big boost. Speak the truth and the truth shall set you free.

In the other direction is a place you do not want to go. It was front-page in the papers and the subhead said that a U. The blockage of an interstate is the true measure of a serious storm and the headline writer tossed in the senator as further evidence, but it only made me wish there had been numerous senators — say, those from Florida, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, the five states least accomplished at snow motorism, and if the Senate had come to session the next morning, our nation would get moving again, one blockage breaking a logjam.

My wife took away my car keys a couple years ago when I mentioned casually while driving that I have double vision and so my old Minnesota highway skills have atrophied. I sit in the shotgun seat and am astonished at her adeptness in traffic, her unhesitant merging, her acceleration upon seeing the light turn yellow, her masterful or mistressful parallel parking. She is a whiz: her training as a violinist, paying close attention to the score while also watching an untrustworthy conductor and listening to your section, has served her well as a motorist.

Plus, she swears better than I ever could. Growing up evangelical, I swear like a kindergarten teacher. I feel no diminution of my manhood whatsoever. On second thought, I do miss the sense of superiority, cruising through a blizzard along Highway 12, seeing a car in the ditch, and the absolute superiority when I stopped to help a ditched driver with his thumb out.

Jesus left that out of the Good Samaritan story, the unseemly pleasure of assisting the helpless. My pleasure. A rather smug pleasure. I have a very close relationship with my cardiologist. The other day, he called in a medical technician to make an adjustment to the device and a tall child who appeared to be about fifteen walked in with an iPad and started tapping on the Pad. It is a sobering experience to have a teenager tinkering with your heart on an iPad as if I were a video game.

One mistake and the defibrillator might defunctionalize me. What made it worse was his black T-shirt. I assumed health care people wear white or pale blue.

A boy with a plaything held my life in his hands. There is no smugness after this. Another three hundred serious snowstorms and the Senate might discuss climate matters. I was in Clearwater Beach, Florida, the morning of the 31st, listening to coffee drip, looking out the picture window at a parking lot, and saw a squirrel sitting on top of a telephone pole at eye level fifteen feet away, looking at me. On the beach, men with metal detectors searched for lost diamond rings and gold ingots.

The squirrel had no good reason to be on top of a pole and I had no reason to be in Florida and the men on the beach kept moving along and not finding anything, we were all just spending time, and eventually the squirrel went racing along a cable to a nearby roof and I flew back home and I assume the men found something else to do, maybe watch football and drink Harvey Wallbangers.

I hate wasting time, now that people my age are dying like flies. I prefer black T-shirts. I hate wasting time. Did I already say this? And I am avoiding certain people who tend to interrupt a conversation with learned monologues and if I were to mention the usefulness of Play-Doh in making temporary repairs around the house, they might offer a lecture on Plato and his influence on Christianity by way of Augustine and while this is impressive, it kills the conversation dead.

I have a few loquacious friends among my many monosyllabic ones and I know their phone numbers and sometimes I let their calls go to voice mail where they can talk to the machine if they like. My mother took time-saving shortcuts. In her late eighties, she stopped ironing handkerchiefs and sheets and pillowcases. Good enough. Some time wastage is unavoidable, such as unintentional nondimensional dementia in which physical objects float through space and the screwdriver you had in the kitchen winds up in your sock drawer and your grilled cheese sandwich departs the microwave and goes into a bookshelf atop a dictionary, but this is how I get my daily exercise, walking from room to room tracking things down.

Myths and Legends. Jason Weiser, Carissa Weiser. Snap Judgment Presents: Spooked. Twenty Thousand Hertz. You Might Also Like. BirdNote Daily. Audio Poem of the Day. Poetry Foundation. Selected Shorts.

Symphony Space.