February 13, 2010
The Fitzgerald Theater

Saint Paul, MN

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Valentine

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SS: Happy Valentine's Day.

GK: Is it Valentine's Day already?

SS: It is.

GK: Oh.

SS; You forgot.

GK: I did. Sorry.

SS: That's okay. I made you this Valentine.

GK: Mmmm. It's beautiful. "Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments....." And a CD. Thank you, dear.

SS: It's Chopin.

GK: I see that.

SS: I know how much you love Chopin.

GK: I do. (PAUSE, THEN PIANO)


GK: This is so nice. Remember this tune? It's that etude. We heard it that time we went to that old hotel in Milwaukee when we flew out to your friend's wedding, that screechy woman with the overbite—remember? The one with the Schnauzers.

SS: Jackie.

GK: Right, who married the ventriloquist—

SS: Gynecologist.

GK: I thought he was a ventriloquist.

SS: That was his hobby. He was her gynecologist. That was how they met.

GK: Interesting. I didn't know anybody who was as loud and bouncy as he was would make a good gynecologist. I thought gynecologists were supposed to be quiet and tasteful and speak in low sort of neutral voices and not make direct eye contact.

SS: Well, I guess she liked him. And he certainly saw something in her.

GK: I guess so.

SS: Anyway, they had fourteen children.
GK: Fourteen.

SS: Yeah. That's what he was looking for. A good breeder.

GK: I remember their reception. It was very fancy. At a country club.

SS: Right. A sit down dinner. And they served bouillebaisse and that whole night we took turns throwing up.

GK: I was afraid I would die and then I was afraid I wouldn't.

SS: I lost about fifteen pounds.

GK: It was the darkest hour of our marriage.

SS: One of the darkest hours.

GK: But the night before the wedding was nice. We walked into that lobby with the high ceiling and the marble pillars and there was the pianist and he was playing this tune.

SS: It was nice.

GK: It was beautiful. We had a glass of champagne and toasted each other and went up to our room and made love.

SS: Did we?

GK: We did.

SS: I don't remember that.

GK: I do. It was wonderful.

SS: Oh really.

GK: I'm surprised you don't remember.

SS: I don't.

GK: You were crying out, "Do it. Do it. Do it, big boy. Bite me."

SS: I said, "Bite me"?

GK: That's what you said.

SS: And did you?

GK: I don't know. Let me look and see—

SS: Hey. Stop that.

GK: Why?

SS: Just don't.

GK: So you don't remember that night? That Chopin night?

SS: I remember the flight back from Milwaukee when the plane was six hours late taking off and we sat on the tarmac and the flight attendants were threatening us with fire extinguishers and people were calling their lawyers on cellphones and the plane ran into severe turbulence and the pilot was screaming that we all deserved to die — I remember that.

GK: But you don't remember the night after we heard the Chopin?

SS: No.

GK: Oh.

SS: Does that hurt your feelings?

GK: I don't know.

SS: I was probably worried about the kids.

GK: We didn't have kids then. It was just us.

SS: Honey, I was worrying about the kids long before they came along.

GK: Right. Anyway. I remember that old hotel in Milwaukee and that wonderful pianist at the grand piano playing Chopin.

SS: Wasn't he playing movie themes?

GK: It was Chopin.

SS: Was it?

GK: It was. We were in Milwaukee and it was almost midnight and we were crazy about each other.

SS: Midnight— wow. Now I start to feel sleepy around nine o'clock. Sometimes earlier.

GK: Kids.

SS: It wears you out. You get tired in the evening. It's like permanent jet lag.

GK: That's for sure.

SS: Do you ever wish we hadn't had kids?
GK: No, of course not.

SS: Do you?

GK: No.

SS: Sure, you do. I know you do. Admit it. Sometimes you do.

GK: Don't be silly. What would we do without kids? (BIG PIANO GLISS, INTO TANGO) O mon amour.....at last.....you woman of mystery, woman of the bare shoulders...I adore every inch of your body...

SS: Hold me, touch me—bite me.

GK: One a.m. Two a.m. The night is young. Dance, gypsy, dance! You intoxicate me. You drive me mad with desire.

SS: I know.

GK: You know you do.

SS: Tell me what I can do to make you happy!

GK: You want to make me happy?

SS: Tell me what you want! Anything! I'm your love slave! I am here only for your pleasure!
GK: Okay, love slave—-

SS (CHILD): Mom? Dad? I can't sleep. Why is it so dark in here? Where's the light switch?

SS: Don't turn on the light, honey. Mommy's coming in to tuck you in. Okay? I'll be right in.

SS (CHILD): What are you doing?

SS: You go in your room and I'll be right in.

SS (CHILD): Read me a story?

SS: I'll read you a story.

SS (CHILD): Two stories? I'm not sleepy at all.

SS: I'll read you a story. You go into your bed—-

SS (CHILD): Can I come in your bed?

SS: NO!!!! — I'm sorry. — No. You go in your bed and I'll be right in. Okay?

SS (CHILD): Okay, Mommy.

SS: Wait here, I'll be right back.

GK: Okay.

SS: Don't fall asleep. Okay? (PAUSE) You hear me? Don't go to sleep. Okay? (PAUSE) Are you awake? (PAUSE) I'll be right back.

(MUSIC BUTTON)

Old Sweet Songs: A Prairie Home Companion 1974-1976

Old Sweet Songs

Lovingly selected from the earliest archives of A Prairie Home Companion, this heirloom collection represents the music from earliest years of the now legendary show: 1974–1976. With songs and tunes from jazz pianist Butch Thompson, mandolin maestro Peter Ostroushko, Dakota Dave Hull and the first house band, The Powdermilk Biscuit Band (Adam Granger, Bob Douglas and Mary DuShane).

Available now»

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