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GARRISON KEILLOR
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The case for the simple life
I bought a jar of elderberry jelly and an armload of rhubarb at a small-town festival last week, simply because the seller was a slender fair-haired luminous beauty who happened to be Amish, sitting, demure in a black bonnet, at a table beside her horse and buggy. She looked like an actress miscast for the role, so stunning, and rather than stand and stare, I bought the stuff, thinking maybe I'd strike up a conversation. Which of course I didn't do.
New cyberspeed of xeroxlore
My father was a barber and he and two other barbers worked in his shop. In the back of the shop was a counter that always seemed to have some miscellaneous paper on it - cartoons, political items, lists, sayings, and so on. In the early days this stuff was mimeographed but as the years passed it became photocopies.
Letters to the Editor
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