Several years ago, Mike and I took the kids to Jacksonville to see Garrison Keillor’s “A Prairie Home Companion” live show, which is when I came to appreciate the spell-bounding powers of a mandolin.
Keillor introduced guest performer Peter Oshtroushko on stage to “play a tune for the fine folks” on his mandolin. Oshtroushko nestled the teardrop string instrument close to his body, then, bowing his head, paused for seconds that felt like minutes as if to say grace for what was about to happen, with no regard for the pregnant silence in the packed auditorium.
Mercifully, he began to play. Tenderly plucking the strings to create a haunting, melodic sound, this mandolin player I’d never heard of before taught me what magic sounds like. He strummed his original composition “Puckett’s Farewell,” a tender homage to the late baseball Hall of Famer Kirby Puckett, but, truly, I felt he was playing for me.
We drove back to our hotel sensing the earth moved, or, at least the northern part of Florida shifted a little. Even at 10 and 8 years old, Griffin and Gillian seemed to recognize we had witnessed something special. Many a Saturday night afterward, at 6 p.m., we’d find ourselves on our back porch sharing two chaises while listening to Keillor’s radio show.
A lot has happened since that trip, but the mandolin has remained one of my favorite musical instruments. And “A Prairie Home Companion” has never disappointed. When I can, I turn on the show, now usually via my cell phone app or car satellite radio. But time stands still for no one or radio show, including Keillor. In July, he retired from the show he created. This fall, Chris Thile will assume the host role.
Ironically, Thile is an accomplished mandolin player. I was first introduced to Thile when he played in a four-string ensemble with cellist Yo-Yo Ma and have been a fan ever since.
Still, Thile has big shoes to fill. I imagine he’ll bring his own millennial pair to wear, lending a new sound and style to the show that once captured the hearts of a young family from Ocala.
Mike and I are now the parents of college-aged young adults who live in two different cities away from their parents. Most days, I’ve come to terms with this empty nest chapter; other times, not so much. I think I’ve struck a healthy emotional balance except for when I hear a mandolin play or find an old episode of the one and only radio show that ever caused my world to stop for just a little blissful while. Then I get misty.
Oh, what I’d give to have just one evening to be back on the porch of my former home with my children as we squeezed a family of four and a puppy onto furniture made for two. But, thus far, I’ve been unable to secure a time machine on Amazon.com. So, I’ll have to settle for the memories made on those magical Saturday nights.
I’d like to think I’ll make some new ones when a young mandolin player steps up to the microphone to play a tune for the fine folks, this time with my husband and our 14-year-old dog. I’ll find a comfy spot on the couch and text Grif and Gilly about their parents’ grand plans for the night, proclaiming a new “Prairie Home Companion” season. Then the show will begin.
And I’ll be ready for what comes next.
