GK: ...after a word from the Ketchup Advisory Board.
TR: These are the good years for Barb and me. I'm voting for Romney, she for Obama, so we have the satisfaction of participating in the election but having absolutely no effect on the outcome. And we don't talk about politics because if we did, we'd get a divorce, and that's too much work, so life is good. I was sitting on the couch the other evening, watching some old videos of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" when I noticed Barb was sitting in the corner, weeping. ----What's wrong, Barb?
SS: Oh, Jim! You sit there taking a video tour of Donald Trump's bathroom and meanwhile there are children and animals and rivers who need our help. We could be using our time and resources to do good in the world, instead of coveting the marble walls of a room where a rich narcissist sits and takes a dump.
TR: It's Italian marble, Barb. It's high quality.
SS: Oh, I don't care. It's all so wrong.
TR: Barb, I do all sorts of good in the world. I've owned a pistol for ten years now and I have yet to shoot anybody with it.
SS: Did you read that story about the New York cabdriver who took the young man to the hospice and he was so moved that he gave the kid a nice long ride so he could see all the sights of the city before he went into hospice and then it turned out that the young man was going there to spray paint some graffiti, but still, it was so generous and thoughtful.
TR: Barb, I used to feel the way you do back when I was 15 and then I read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged and I saw the truth. Life is not Montessori. Life is a struggle and the rewards should go to the strong. And the rest should die. Like in nature.
SS: You were laid off at Amalgamated Paperclip sixteen months ago. No health care, no nice severance package. They dumped you like you were an old couch.
TR: I've got my investments, Barb. I have a valuable stamp collection. I have my baseball cards.
SS: We're sliding downhill, Jim. We might have to move in with the kids, and they're trying to move in with us.
TR: After this election, we'll be sitting pretty again. It'll be 1955 all over again.
SS: I just wish you'd try being a little kinder, Jim.
TR: Like what?
SS: Like on the freeway. You get behind someone who's driving the speed limit and you tailgate and then you gun it past them and you flip them the finger. Why?
TR: Barb---- if you can't drive your car, you ought to stay home.
SS: Oh, Jim! I wonder if you're getting enough ketchup.
SS: Yes, Jim. Ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help people relax and not be jerks.
TR: Jerks? Who you talking about? Me?
These are the good times,
Time for dialogues.
So let us all be civil
And not write angry blogs.
Life is flowing
Like ketchup on hot dogs.
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD: Ketchup, ketchup, ketchup...
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).