books:: garrison keillor, "love me"

Garrison Keillor is from Minnesota. You can read it in his writing, in his language, in his wit. His Lake Wobegone days of writing have proven successful and laughable, making us laugh at ourselves and at the Minnesotans. And now, we can laugh some more.

In "Love Me," which was published nearly three years ago (I only got around to reading it now), we meet Larry Wyler. He marries Iris, a devout Democrat whose mission is to save and work for the elderly, even if it means letting them store their grocery carts of random crap in her garage. His mission: literary fame, as defined by writing for the esteemed New Yorker magazine. When he finally writes a best-selling book, he moves to Central Park West -- without his wife, who would rather hold on to her season hockey tickets and live in the ghetto of St. Paul, down the hill from where the rich she so despises live.

Wyler goes to work at his dream magazine, rubs shoulders with John Updike, J.D. Salinger and other literary greats, develops writer's block, has a string of affairs, and ends up as Mr. Blue, giving advice to forlorn Minnesotans in a regular column. In the end, he returns to Iris, only to discover she has given up her activist cause for the elderly to become a massage therapist.