The Church of Prairie Home Companion

What is the lure that pulls people halfway across the globe to spend 10 days on a ship with a troupe of performers most have never met except through the medium of radio, a medium that is widely regarded by many as nothing more than the last refuge of holy rolling preachers, outdated old folks' rock album music and trash talking, hyperventilating shock jocks? How does a program that is to radio drama what The Daily Show is to broadcast journalism -- a clever, well-maintained satire that seems like the real thing but isn't -- inspire such loyalty among listeners that they weekly set aside other activities and obligations and tune into a public radio program sponsored by ersatz products like BeBop Areebop rhubarb pie, Powdermilk biscuits, duct tape and ketchup?

Being aboard this cruise is an immersion into the deeply loyal audience that Prairie Home Companion has created and nurtured for more than 30 years of regular weekly broadcasts from the make-believe town of Lake Woebegone. Garrison Keillor, 6'5", gawky, wearing trademark red sneakers and socks with suits, tuxedos and casual wear, sporting nerdy black eyeglasses and a soothing bass voice, presides over this enterprise. He's surrounded by a community of performers who appear on most, if not every show. He's funny, but not howlingly so, more wry than sharp. His observations are delivered in a mellow, almost hypnotic voice whose cadences have been carefully practiced in a finely honed storyteller's pace. The punchlines are rarely delivered with a punch, but instead seem to slip, slide, and ease their way out of the monologues and skits. It seems scripted and practiced, but when you see these shows live you realize how much improvisation goes on between the performers as they embellish this mythical prairie universe.

These are really talented people, musicians who shift effortlessly from one style to another, comedic actors who use voices alone to create enduring and memorable characters, and a man who does nothing but create sound effects, mostly with his mouth. They seem to genuinely enjoy working with each other, and they have worked really hard throughout this 10 day trip. Keillor is up most mornings at 7 to join passengers for coffee, or to preside over a writers' workshop where he listens to writers talk about their problems and commiserate or offer solutions. He's still up past midnight, singing with the performers and sometimes the audience, or presiding over a storytelling session with passengers, coaxing personal stories from them with a reassuring touch or comment, and then sending them back to their cabins. The musicians are in constant rotation among the ship's bars and lounges, or in larger performance venues, and often join one another as impromptu guests to improvise their way through songs they haven't rehearsed together. Throughout the day they are around the boat, in the cities, on the tours. Their patience with their fans and their engagement in conversations of adulation, commentary or simply curiosity would put many politicians to shame.

Most of the passengers I've talked to came on this cruise first because it was a PHC cruise with the cast, and only secondarily because it was a trip to Norway. In his final show Sunday night Keillor joked that next year's cruise would be on the upper Missouri River in North Dakota where instead of 10 days of luxury passengers will live in tents and spend 30 days working on a massive public works project to create a fjord that will be a tourist attraction. It's not hard to believe that many of the audience would sign up for that, too, if Sue Scott, Fred Newman, Tim Russell, the Shoe Band and Keillor would promise to be there, too.

As the cruise progressed, the seductive power of this culture grew. It felt more and more as if we were all part of some community of shared values, that we were all residents of Lake Woebegone, that the people on the stage weren't professional actors and musicians but friends, neighbors, people we knew and liked and who knew and liked us in return. It was like joining a church or a synagogue where you gain instant community, where shared values are assumed and reinforced by repetition and ritual.

In the end, are these cruises and the constant touring to cities around the country part of building and maintaining this community, or more a clever strategy to build and maintain the brand? Are Keillor and his crew nourished by this week of fan immersion, do they look forward to it as the chance to connect with their community the way so many of the passengers appear to do? Or is this how a performing troupe builds and keeps an audience so that the show and the gig go on? Are they working us, are we working them, or are we working one another in a communal and symbiotic relationship?

I can't answer these questions. I was surprised at how drawn to these performers I was, at how much it seemed they were part of my adventure, not props adorning it. Though I could feel myself consciously resisting it, I could feel the pull of saying "hi" to the performers and other staff, to begin calling them by their first names as if we were friends, to excuse the inevitable glitches in their performances and empathize with them even when the routines fell short or flat, as I thought they did in the final performance on Sunday night. Nearly everyone I asked said they would sign up for another of these cruises no matter where it was headed if another was put on. Most clearly will continue to make PHC a centerpiece of their weekend lives.

I won't be among them. But I can't avoid the fact that in some way I've become associated, if not fully invested, in this community. Like participation in any organized religious activity, I find it makes me uneasy but somehow included. And maybe this is the secret of PHC's longevity and startling fan loyalty. An ongoing set of stories about make believe people in a town that never existed , where people are flawed and quirky, but are familiar, archetypal and endure, and the future is assumed and assured, with familiar and reassuring rituals upon which we can depend...where the women are all strong, the men are all good looking, and the children are all above average...welcome to the Church of Prairie Home Companion.