San Diego Civic Center Theatre, San Diego, CA
O tell me what’s the matter
I stand around and try to pee
It trickles out erratically
And then it leaks all over me
I have a lousy bladder
When working on my plumbing
Be careful where you put your knife
I have to entertain my wife
She beats the drum. I play the fife.
And O what lovely drumming
GK: I feel great as I always do after I’ve been at The Mayo Clinic. You go from one specialist to another — it’s my only encounter with science —and you ask a question, and some brilliant person talks for ten minutes about the eyeball, or about the atrium of the heart or the aging bladder, or whatever else you’re curious about, and after a whole day of expertise about the incredible complexity of the body, the connective tissue, the ducts, the valves, arteries, the optic nerve, it fills a person with a sense of grandeur — our bodies are such marvels, surely we are meant to do great things in this world, and it moves me to poetry—
GK: I learned a little about the cornea, about the prostate, about genetics, about the aorta. I did something at Mayo I’ve never done before and that is to poke myself in the belly with a needle and slowly push on a plunger to inject a blood thinner. I did it in the examining room where an attractive young woman nurse asked me, “Do you think you could give yourself a shot?” and in the presence of young women a man knows no fear.
I would climb mountains, swim the seas
I would eat some bumblebees
I could be witty and effervescent
If women were present
Somehow women make me braver
If one fell overboard, I would save her
Run barefoot cross the burning decks
Anything for the gentle sex
Art and music and literature
Written by him to impress her
Michelangelo painted the Sistine ceiling
For Christine for whom he had a special feeling
Bach loved a woman, he would wine and dine her
And he wrote the Mass in B minor.
And James Joyce wrote Ulysses
For his missus.
GK: If it weren’t for women, we men would squat
Around the fire and grunt a lot.
Women have pulled us out of the gutters
And also they make good mothers
If you had come out of your pop
He might’ve held you or let you drop
You would’ve faced all kinds of trauma
Thank God you had a momma.
I could face a den of lions
Even study math and science
I could be a radio showman
Or jab a needle in my abdomen
No hesitation, without fear
If it would impress you, dear.
Every time I sing and dance
I think of my momma and my aunts.
I would try to walk on water
For my daughter.
I would make the waters part
For you, sweetheart.
Anything I can think of
I would do for you, my love.
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).