Thank you, Matt. I have a beautiful dog who tries to remind me everyday to be cheerful.
I got him from the NYC city pound(Animal Care and Control of New York City, if you or anyone wants to write a small check. They have no money, the city runs it, therefore its a kill shelter. But the volunteers move the dogs and kitties around in the middle of the night to confuse the warden…). Wish I could show a pix. 105lbs Pittie Bronx Mutt with an unreasonable amount of love for every creature. Anyway, I bailed him out but he rescued me. My wife had died and my daughter went off to college. I have Bounder.
Keillor is great. Listened to him every Saturday evening in my 20’s. Prairie Home Companion at 7pm - Food drinks, drinks, drinks, and the Mudd Club at midnight. Ahhh, those were the days..
He used to frequent a restaurant where I was a Sommelier. Very very nice fellow
As a Minnesotan who lived with Garrison Keillor through the Jesse Ventura years, I'm probably the most tried and true of the KeillorSchadenfreude types.
His political commentary was haughty and dripping with self-righteousness. I don't tend to hold on a lot of things, but something about his tone really stuck in my craw.
It was good to see him brought down a little bit, but to your point I think it was an overcorrection.
You've rehabilitated him a lot for me. I'm likely to even give him another chance.
Solomon 💙 We have an 8 year old boxer who still plays like a puppy. That is where I find my daily smile and cheerfulness. I will share one of my favorite quotes:
"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."
Thank you for reminding me that my happiness is right here, four on the floor and with fur.
It just gets better and better Matt. Cross my heart.
Spent an amazing Christmas Day with "my" Vets in the Covid Unit on Christmas Day. We wished well, we laughed we cried we sang Jingle Bells and other favs. Best day ever. Matt you know. BTW the average age of "my" Vets on that day was 81.
Then I promptly got C19-omicron version thru New Years. All that said I think all can relate to your writing at this time
We missed the snowmeggdon here in Pittsburgh but had a friend caught up on the beltway for 20 something hours. He tells me to not be surprised if he tells me he and his wife are expecting.....I will leave you all with that thought and hopefully a smile that some good will come of all that snowmisery and what was.
Back to Garrison Keillor, and sourness. My novel writing abruptly halted at page one when I read a finger wagging comment from Garrison; something about his writing a novel, and then at about a thousand pages the thing just keeled over from its own weight. Ah, but there's the brilliance of the man; as I reread that sentence I see for the first time the pun he sneaked in.
I'm all for cheerfulness, Matt. But I've gotta' tell ya', I hate snow. Well, I hold no animus against the thing itself, just all the work that it brings with it...the three gridirons of drive from the road to the back of the barn that must be cleared, gate openings to horse turnouts when this frosty visitor shows up in sufficient depth, sidewalks along the house so the mail / delivery folks can get to our door, and - when arriving on a stiff northerly wind - the drift that often threatens the air intake / exhaust vents for the furnace on the lee side of our roof. Which are more than 3 feet tall, btw. And of course, sundry other ground-level drifts that show up in various places depending on which way the gentle winter breezes blow...in front of house doors, barn doors, car doors.
I used to consider dealing with all of this just a necessary pain in the ass. But with the passage of time, it's now a pain in my entire body. Mechanization helps. But if you think you can't get a 4 X 4 with a plow stuck, you've never driven a 4 X 4 with a plow. And even if the snowblower starts, there's always the buried and unseen rock or chunk of ice waiting to shear an impeller pin. And snow shovels, of which I own a few, suck. Snow rakes for the house roof and horse shelter overhangs? Won't even go there.
But you know what helps besides mechanization? Liquor. Bourbon, specifically. Good for what ails me at this time of year. Which is usually my back. Or knee. Or...oh, what the hell, it all hurts on occasion. But so what? Reminds me I'm still alive at least. And you know what else is good for what ails? Slack Tide. Which I just finished reading.
So, if you're ever in this neck of the woods this time of year, stop on in. And bring your snow-shoveling crew with you. I'll put y'all to work, and I pay really well. Not in cash, but in top-shelf hooch. When done, we can enjoy a little of the fruits of their labor. Our dog Willie, a short haired Boxer / Terrier mutt, isn't cold weather equipped, so he won't be making any snow angels for our entertainment. But when a thousand-pound horse makes one in a foot of the fresh stuff, that's worth a gander. Maybe with the consumption of enough fruit we can figure out a way to get my snowblower up on the roof to deal with that pesky drift the next time a northerner blows in. Got an old Bob Cat out back with a lift bucket large enough to hold you, me and the machine. All we need is one of your crew to operate the controls. Should work out just fine.
Meantime, it snowed here last night. Got some work to do, if the doors to the truck aren't frozen shut and the snowblower starts. It was a balmy -2* at daybreak. We never are completely in the clear, are we? But the sun's shining now, and I have to admit it really is kind of pretty out.
> My own dog, Solomon, and I, have a lot in common. Though he is a stately Great Pyrenees, and I am a less-stately middle-aged whiner, we both like peeing on things. We both like sleeping a lot. We both like being given salty treats for not-very-impressive accomplishments, like sitting. Unlike Solomon, I am physically incapable of licking my own nethers. But if I ever figure it out, it could be a real game-changer.
This is the Matt Labash content I am here for. Your dog videos are both adorable and too short. And while _in general_ Keillor is not my cup of tea, he does string together a good essay once in a while. Happy New Year. From the sound of things, your 2022 can only improve. Let it be so.
Pistol Pete FTW. I often trail a tiny chronimid behind and often use them ice fishing also. A bubble and Pistol Pete is a great setup for inexperienced kids and folks. Not apt to snag and often catches fish. The unexpected pistol Pete appearance was uplifting 🤛
I grew up listening to Garrison Keillor and read some of his work as I got older. I was always struck by his vivid descriptions of small moments. I see a lot of similarities in your topics and writing. There are very few writers from whom I would happily read fishing stories!
For 5 years I drove round trip from Essex Cty, NJ to Stamford. Every night as I walked thru that door Rocky and Ramone ( my hounds) rushed the door barking and bounding up all over me . What joy. So one night the wife says …you are happier to see those dogs than u r me….well I just said yup and u know why ? For they love me unconditionally !!
Simple.
And finally…
“People are as happy as they make their minds up to be “.
Jan 6, 2022·edited Jan 7, 2022Liked by Matt Labash
I suffered a long bout of illness over the Christmas break (a bad cold but not COVID) and had a very similar holiday break of cancelled family plans, disappointment, and being just plain tired. It was a joy (yes, joy is the right word) to read your column and share in some of the exasperation. I am not so good at cheerfulness but at bottom I do have gratitude for a God who came to us through his Son in spite our broken depravity. And gratitude for a God so loving and merciful that he gave us dogs to cheer us along our journey.
Keillor 100% martyr, Franken 98% ( New Yorker piece Mayer- 2019, Roger Stone-Tweeden connection nails this down). I too miss Keillors unique written voice, not since Twain. . . .
Thanks for this, Matt.
Thank you for making me laugh Matt.
That was just wonderful.
Thank you, Matt. I have a beautiful dog who tries to remind me everyday to be cheerful.
I got him from the NYC city pound(Animal Care and Control of New York City, if you or anyone wants to write a small check. They have no money, the city runs it, therefore its a kill shelter. But the volunteers move the dogs and kitties around in the middle of the night to confuse the warden…). Wish I could show a pix. 105lbs Pittie Bronx Mutt with an unreasonable amount of love for every creature. Anyway, I bailed him out but he rescued me. My wife had died and my daughter went off to college. I have Bounder.
Keillor is great. Listened to him every Saturday evening in my 20’s. Prairie Home Companion at 7pm - Food drinks, drinks, drinks, and the Mudd Club at midnight. Ahhh, those were the days..
He used to frequent a restaurant where I was a Sommelier. Very very nice fellow
Oh, and dogs…because they can
As a Minnesotan who lived with Garrison Keillor through the Jesse Ventura years, I'm probably the most tried and true of the KeillorSchadenfreude types.
His political commentary was haughty and dripping with self-righteousness. I don't tend to hold on a lot of things, but something about his tone really stuck in my craw.
It was good to see him brought down a little bit, but to your point I think it was an overcorrection.
You've rehabilitated him a lot for me. I'm likely to even give him another chance.
Solomon 💙 We have an 8 year old boxer who still plays like a puppy. That is where I find my daily smile and cheerfulness. I will share one of my favorite quotes:
"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."
Thank you for reminding me that my happiness is right here, four on the floor and with fur.
Happy New Year!
It just gets better and better Matt. Cross my heart.
Spent an amazing Christmas Day with "my" Vets in the Covid Unit on Christmas Day. We wished well, we laughed we cried we sang Jingle Bells and other favs. Best day ever. Matt you know. BTW the average age of "my" Vets on that day was 81.
Then I promptly got C19-omicron version thru New Years. All that said I think all can relate to your writing at this time
We missed the snowmeggdon here in Pittsburgh but had a friend caught up on the beltway for 20 something hours. He tells me to not be surprised if he tells me he and his wife are expecting.....I will leave you all with that thought and hopefully a smile that some good will come of all that snowmisery and what was.
Back to Garrison Keillor, and sourness. My novel writing abruptly halted at page one when I read a finger wagging comment from Garrison; something about his writing a novel, and then at about a thousand pages the thing just keeled over from its own weight. Ah, but there's the brilliance of the man; as I reread that sentence I see for the first time the pun he sneaked in.
I'm all for cheerfulness, Matt. But I've gotta' tell ya', I hate snow. Well, I hold no animus against the thing itself, just all the work that it brings with it...the three gridirons of drive from the road to the back of the barn that must be cleared, gate openings to horse turnouts when this frosty visitor shows up in sufficient depth, sidewalks along the house so the mail / delivery folks can get to our door, and - when arriving on a stiff northerly wind - the drift that often threatens the air intake / exhaust vents for the furnace on the lee side of our roof. Which are more than 3 feet tall, btw. And of course, sundry other ground-level drifts that show up in various places depending on which way the gentle winter breezes blow...in front of house doors, barn doors, car doors.
I used to consider dealing with all of this just a necessary pain in the ass. But with the passage of time, it's now a pain in my entire body. Mechanization helps. But if you think you can't get a 4 X 4 with a plow stuck, you've never driven a 4 X 4 with a plow. And even if the snowblower starts, there's always the buried and unseen rock or chunk of ice waiting to shear an impeller pin. And snow shovels, of which I own a few, suck. Snow rakes for the house roof and horse shelter overhangs? Won't even go there.
But you know what helps besides mechanization? Liquor. Bourbon, specifically. Good for what ails me at this time of year. Which is usually my back. Or knee. Or...oh, what the hell, it all hurts on occasion. But so what? Reminds me I'm still alive at least. And you know what else is good for what ails? Slack Tide. Which I just finished reading.
So, if you're ever in this neck of the woods this time of year, stop on in. And bring your snow-shoveling crew with you. I'll put y'all to work, and I pay really well. Not in cash, but in top-shelf hooch. When done, we can enjoy a little of the fruits of their labor. Our dog Willie, a short haired Boxer / Terrier mutt, isn't cold weather equipped, so he won't be making any snow angels for our entertainment. But when a thousand-pound horse makes one in a foot of the fresh stuff, that's worth a gander. Maybe with the consumption of enough fruit we can figure out a way to get my snowblower up on the roof to deal with that pesky drift the next time a northerner blows in. Got an old Bob Cat out back with a lift bucket large enough to hold you, me and the machine. All we need is one of your crew to operate the controls. Should work out just fine.
Meantime, it snowed here last night. Got some work to do, if the doors to the truck aren't frozen shut and the snowblower starts. It was a balmy -2* at daybreak. We never are completely in the clear, are we? But the sun's shining now, and I have to admit it really is kind of pretty out.
So, here's to cheerfulness! Why fight it, right?
Is the "pistol pete" fly named for the basketball star, Pete Maravich ?
> My own dog, Solomon, and I, have a lot in common. Though he is a stately Great Pyrenees, and I am a less-stately middle-aged whiner, we both like peeing on things. We both like sleeping a lot. We both like being given salty treats for not-very-impressive accomplishments, like sitting. Unlike Solomon, I am physically incapable of licking my own nethers. But if I ever figure it out, it could be a real game-changer.
This is the Matt Labash content I am here for. Your dog videos are both adorable and too short. And while _in general_ Keillor is not my cup of tea, he does string together a good essay once in a while. Happy New Year. From the sound of things, your 2022 can only improve. Let it be so.
I'm from Frederick...which creek and which no-tell motel? Oh, and, thank you for this piece.
Pistol Pete FTW. I often trail a tiny chronimid behind and often use them ice fishing also. A bubble and Pistol Pete is a great setup for inexperienced kids and folks. Not apt to snag and often catches fish. The unexpected pistol Pete appearance was uplifting 🤛
I grew up listening to Garrison Keillor and read some of his work as I got older. I was always struck by his vivid descriptions of small moments. I see a lot of similarities in your topics and writing. There are very few writers from whom I would happily read fishing stories!
For 5 years I drove round trip from Essex Cty, NJ to Stamford. Every night as I walked thru that door Rocky and Ramone ( my hounds) rushed the door barking and bounding up all over me . What joy. So one night the wife says …you are happier to see those dogs than u r me….well I just said yup and u know why ? For they love me unconditionally !!
Simple.
And finally…
“People are as happy as they make their minds up to be “.
Abe Lincoln
Happy New Year
And we too are giving over the chill !!
I suffered a long bout of illness over the Christmas break (a bad cold but not COVID) and had a very similar holiday break of cancelled family plans, disappointment, and being just plain tired. It was a joy (yes, joy is the right word) to read your column and share in some of the exasperation. I am not so good at cheerfulness but at bottom I do have gratitude for a God who came to us through his Son in spite our broken depravity. And gratitude for a God so loving and merciful that he gave us dogs to cheer us along our journey.
Keillor 100% martyr, Franken 98% ( New Yorker piece Mayer- 2019, Roger Stone-Tweeden connection nails this down). I too miss Keillors unique written voice, not since Twain. . . .