For many of my nearly twenty four years on this Earth there’s been a live weekly broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion, Garrison Keillor’s continually evolving masterpiece and legacy.

I’m actually listening to the show as I write this, and so strongly does it evoke memories of previous shows that I can close my eyes and Keillor transports me from the sunny California coast to my dad’s house in Trempealeau, the radio tuned to Wisconsin Public Radio, 100 Watt bulbs valiantly trying to light the living room as the last rays of late winter sun weakly fall over down over the bluffs and through the windows.

Keillor is often proclaimed a modern-day Mark Twain, as if Twain had somehow found the afterlife less than advertised and had decided to return for another lifetime as humorist, essayist, and storyteller. I can’t dispute the accuracy of the claim, though it would seem to me that making it slightly cheapens the contributions both have made to American culture. While Twain would likely be as amused by and appreciative of Keillor as Keillor is of Twain, should we really waste our time grouping the writers and entertainers of our day with the now nearly-unassailable legends of yesteryear? Or should we instead allow them to chisel out their own likeness in the very young and still-malleable Mount Rushmore of American culture? Isn’t there room for both Twain and Keillor on that facade, just as there is room for Hemmingway and Ambrose Bierce, both larger-than-life war vets turned writers?

Not everyone is a Keillor supporter. My mom and stepdad, both lifelong Public Radio listeners, enjoyed APHC for years until they perceived Keillor becoming marginalized by his fame, watering down the characters to conform to the national stereotype of Minnesotans and turning the show into a soapbox from which he could espouse his particular brand of liberalism (shared with a large number of his listeners). Dispensing with commenting on his politics, most Minnesotans would likely tell you that Keillor has made his characters more compatible with the Fargo-ized view of folks in the furthest northern reaches of the Upper Midwest. The only thing is, we’re the only ones that really notice, since the show’s supposed to be about us.

I’m saddened by this, just like most Minnesotans are, but despite my feelings I recognize the great contribution to the airwaves that Keillor continues to make on a weekly basis. Without Keillor and Minnesota Public Radio, exposure to American folk music (of all varieties) would be even lower than it already is. And while I suspect that a very small number of people my age or younger listen to the program, the fact that it is distributed to more than 511 radio stations throughout the United States and the world, streamed on the web, and reaches over 3.9 million pairs of American ears a week demonstrates that the show has a significant impact illustrating a way of life and preserving a style of music.

One of my favorite memories of A Prairie Home Companion was a February 3rd broadcast many years ago in which, during his News from Lake Wobegon segment, Garrison and his group of young friends come upon the wreckage of Buddy Holly’s airplane. Rarely in my life have I been as transfixed as I was that night, Keillor’s rich baritone oscillating, sometimes croaking, spinning out the story. I can’t remember all the particulars, but Buddy’s blue guitar stuck in the pure white snow features vividly in the memory. Even now, I can feel the gymnastics in my guts just thinking about it.

And so, I’m inclined to suspend my thoughts on Garrison Keillor slightly cheapening his illustration of everyday folks in the Upper Midwest and his use of a radio show that belongs to him to voice his opinion on the direction of the country for the pleasure that listening to his program brings - the rush of childhood memories, the feeling of a connection to simpler times, and the fact that, for a few hours on a Saturday evening, I can feel like I’m in a warm, softly lit living room with the light fading outside even though in reality I’m nearly two thousand miles away.

Now please excuse me, the News from Lake Wobegon is on, and I want to know what happened back home this past week.

My friend K, who, thorough his blog, was one of the principal inspirations for my own purchase of digital acreage, made a few remarks last month on the birthday of Minnesota Public Radio’s 89.3 FM - The Current which made me think about my own radio listening experience.

As a kid I can remember listening to a ton of radio. By that I mean I listened to radio at least 15 times more than I watched television. Part of that was a function of my parents not having cable TV (WKBT from LaCrosse has never had stimulating programming), and part of that was due to my insatiable appetite for Twins baseball, which I either pulled in on 1230 AM KWNO in Winona or 830 AM WCCO (the “Good Neighbor to the North”).

KWNO in the Eighties and early Nineties was a shadow of the station it was in the Seventies (I have this on the authority of my dad), so I didn’t listen to much of the music Kay-Dub offered. Most of the time, I flipped over to 102.7 FM “The Eagle” out of LaCrosse for music. The Eagle carried your normal Fifties-Sixties-Seventies playlist, which was semi-decent commercial radio.

When I got to high school I started listening to 97.5 FM KNXR in Rochester. My musical tastes had shifted to include a lot of jazz. I particularly loved listening to John Doremus’ program “Patterns in Music” and the show immediately after it, “Music in the Night.” KNXR was definitely not the kind of radio station a “cool” kid would have listened to in high school. It was more the kind of thing you’d expect to hear in an old two-chair barber shop or in the lobby of your dentist’s office. Very easy listening, lots of old standards, very personable (and actually entertaining) announcers.

I also listened to MPR quite a bit in high school. My taste for classical music had finally blossomed, and I was also listening to their morning programming quite a bit. I called into (and was on-air) “Midmorning” back when Katherine Lanpher hosted the program. Of course, I also called into (and was on-air with) Rush Limbaugh, back when I was a Republican.

Public radio’s always been a two-edged sword for me. On one hand, I love programming like “Car Talk,” “The Splendid Table,” and (with reservations about Keillor’s sell-outness) “A Prairie Home Companion.” But I’ve always found something about traditional public radio slightly unctuous and smug, so I remain on the fringes.

These days I pretty much don’t listen to traditional commercial radio anymore. I’ve grown tired of the standardized formats, the innane gimmicks, and the unimaginative playlists. I’ve moved beyond anything Clear Channel can offer me.

I’m nearing an anniversary of my own. At the end of the month I’ll have been a subscriber to Sirius for a year. Just as public radio revolutionized certain parts of audio media, so, I think, has satellite radio. Already a last frontier for operators like Howard Stern, who dance beyond control of the FCC like cattle rustlers congregating just out of reach of US Marshals in the western territories 150 years ago, satellite radio has far better (more varied, more thoughtful, more entertaining) programming than anything available over standard airwaves. And because it’s subscriber-based, hopefully I’ll be able to enjoy excellence in broadcasting (sorry, Rush) for a long time to come.

As much as I do love Sirius, it’s still not my ideal. Sirius is a vast hegemony of media, with so many different stations that it would be impossible to pool them all into one. If I had the disposable cash, I suppose I could look into neighborhood public radio or podcasting, both of which intrigue me. I’d love to have some sort of program, but I’m most certainly not at a stage in my life where I can do much to pursue a dream like that. But that would only whet my appetite to expand, because there are a number of people I know who would also make excellent radio hosts.

If I were to win the lottery (slim chances there, since I don’t buy the tickets), here are the top five things I would do, in no particular order:

1) buy a Volvo for every day of the week (I’m perfectly serious)
2) build a vacation home in the Northwoods, or perhaps Maine
3) donate to several charitable organizations
4) take care of my school debt/invest for my future/put siblings through college
5) start a radio station

There are quite a few things to consider when starting a radio station. I can’t decide if I’d go AM, FM, or HF (shortwave). I don’t think I’d have a set format, but allow myself some flexibility. Ideally, I wouldn’t have listeners that listened to my station all the time unless their musical taste is as diverse as mine.

I’ve got specific people in mind for hosts, including, but not limited to, my dad, my girlfriend, Jo, Uncle Kootch, uncles Bro and Mo (a much more entertaining duo than Hannity and Colmes, I think), and my friends Tim and Sean. I’d also recruit my uncle Sam, who actually has radio experience (with MPR and a radio station he worked at in Liberia), for a program. I’d allow them as much artistic freedom as they’d need, because already their interests are so diverse that I’d probably muck things up with suggestions. Besides, all are very creative folks and would do extremely well on their own.

It’ll never happen, but how often do we come across an ideal situation? I’m persuaded that we run across so little that is ideal that instead of wishing for improvement from the flawed things in life, we should accept those flaws, enjoy them for what they are, and just be thankful for those things we already have which are wrought so perfectly. If I’m wrong, blame it on my youth.