52 New Things -- Week 6 -- A Prairie Home Companion

Best Christmas gift idea EVER!

Kevin and I aren't much for gifts. I mean, sure, there are a couple of things we would have liked for Christmas, but a sunfish sailboat (for me) and a stand-up paddle board (for him) just didn't make the budget cuts this year. Things we could afford are things we don't really need (seriously, if any of you buy this guy another shirt, I will cut you!), so we decided to just skip gifts this year and treat each other to a weekend in Minneapolis to see one of our favorite radio shows live.

I know. Who are we, our grandparents in 1942? Who has favorite radio shows these days? Well, the short answer is, "These two nerds right here!" We listen to both "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" and "A Prairie Home Companion" on Saturdays.

Unfortunately, we didn't really look into the whole ticket thing until January . . . and quickly found that tickets are sold out until, like, 2017 or something. The website said there were "rush" tickets available every week, and after some discussion, we decided to take our chances, drive up to the Cities, and hope for the best.

We went up the night before to see my friends Mark and Molly. (I was about to say, "You might remember Molly as the woman with the 'Fifty Dates in Fifty States' idea." Then I remembered that hey, I still haven't actually published that book I wrote, which means that no, you probably don't remember her. Cliff notes version: Molly had a bright idea, I went on fifty dates, Kevin & I got hitched, happily ever after.)

Mark & Molly were kind enough to let us sleep in their guest room, which thankfully is in their basement, two floors away from their bedroom, because I had another of my "holler-in-my-sleep" episodes that friends find so entertaining (after the fact, of course; hearing someone screaming in the middle of the night generally freaks them out in the moment). Let's just say I have both a very active dream life and a bit of claustrophobia, and when those two things collide, I can be quite vocal. Dreaming, once again, that I was trapped in a very small space, I cried out for help.

"I WANT OUT! I WANT OUT! I WANT OUT!" I yelled into the darkness.

"Of the marriage or the bed?" Kevin calmly replied.

There's a reason I married this man. Quick wit, even in the dead of night with a crazy woman by your side? That's hard to find, my friends.

So anyway, after enjoying breakfast with Mark and Molly, we headed out for the Fitzgerald Theater. The rush ticket system involved getting a number at 2PM, then coming back at 4PM to see if you get an actual ticket. I had called the box office a few weeks earlier and asked what my chances were of getting tickets; they recommended getting in line at noon.

Translation: if you really want to see this show, you'd better be ready to stand in line for two hours on a freezing cold Minnesota day.

Yippee!

I prepped myself for this by stopping by the local thrift shop and picking up a pair of boots. Not the stylish kind of boots that Kevin has been hinting for months that he'd like to see me wear, but a clunky pair of snow boots with Thinsulate. They were a bit too big, but I figured I could wear two pairs of socks. Plus they were only five dollars. Frugality and function over fashion!

We pulled up to the theater as a nearby church's bell rang out twelve o'clock. A line had already formed . . . and wrapped around the building.

"Get out," I instructed Kevin. "Take the chairs out of the trunk so you can save two spots. I'll find a place to park and come join you."

I counted eighteen people already in line as I drove past. Dang it! If we sat in the cold for two hours and didn't even get in the door, I was not going to be a happy camper.

I found a cheap parking place, then stuffed one of my cloth grocery bags with a book, a blanket, and two boxes of candy to entertain myself for two hours. I hightailed it down the street to join Kevin in line . . . well, as fast as I could hightail it in boots that were two sizes too big and definitely not improved by two pairs of socks. I kept my eye out for a homeless man who might like them after I was done waiting in line.

After he left me, I questioned sharing my blanket . . .

We set up the chairs and Kevin shared the info he'd gleaned from people in front of him. Basically, they said our chances of getting in were good. Hurrah! A few people who came behind us said they'd done this before, been further back in the line, and still gotten in. We breathed a sigh of relief.

I tucked us both in under the blanket, then started streaming "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on my iPhone. When that hour of entertainment was up, Kevin went in search of coffee. He called five minutes later.

"So, I think I'm just going to stay here in the coffee shop for a while and read my journal, if that's okay with you," he said.

My first impulse, of course, was to freak out. You're going to sit in a nice, warm coffee shop while I sit out here shivering? But then I remembered how calm and witty he'd been while I was yelling in my sleep the night before and decided he earned a free pass.

About ten minutes 'til two, an employee came out and said that due to cancellations, they had about twenty tickets available at full price. For $48, we could be guaranteed seats.

We stood in line for two hours; they bought the drinks. Fair deal. :)

Friends, I did not invest two hours of my day sitting outside to pay full price. I was taking my chances at $15 tickets!

Anyway, Kevin came back and we got our numbers, and each number is good for two tickets, so our friends Jeremy & Laurie could join us, too.  We went and checked in at our hotel, came back at 4PM as instructed, and HOORAY! We got in . . . and not just in, but in the FRONT ROW!!

I guess they have about thirty tickets every week to sell as rush tickets. The first thirty or so people in line sat on the stage to the side of or behind the performers. The next ten or so got to sit in the front row, and while I understand why people would want to save themselves a sore neck from looking up for two hours, therefore making these the cheap seats, I thought it was pretty darn awesome to be able to see people's facial expressions as they were talking or singing or playing.

No goofing around -- he can see us!!

It was fun to see the different people who do the voices and the sound effects in sketches every week. A few of them looked absolutely nothing like how I've pictured them all these years, and the next day when we heard the replay on the radio while driving home, I still pictured the characters in my head the way I always pictured them even though I had just seen the actual people who have those voices. I guess several years of imagining beat out one night of reality!

So the conclusion? Well worth $15 each and a two-hour wait in the cold. It was a very fun night, and Garrison Keillor's not getting any younger, folks, so go get in line!!