As I sit writing this, it’s now a year to the day that I saw you live at Mystic Lake. I remember because it was literally the first time I had laughed in, at very least, the three days since the election. Two of my friends came with, one of whom had never seen you before. She loved your set just as much as we did. Actually, everyone did, and that was obvious because they stood up at the end—the whole packed auditorium—and screamed and clapped like a bunch of concertgoers after the headliner plays the last song. We kept standing and cheering and clapping almost as if we wanted you to tell one more joke like a crowd pleads for musicians to play another song.
I know it’s cold up here, but climate change is exponential these days so it’s not that cold anymore, and you could always come in the spring, summer, or fall instead of the winter. I get that it’s far, but now that you’ve been here and performed to a sold-out crowd, I’m sure the casino would offer you an even more “sacrilegious” amount of money to come back. Likewise, realistically, it’s important to listen to your lizard brain every now and then.
Aside from the fact that Minnesota loves you and that you might possibly become richer than the Pope if you keep this up, we kind of need you. It’s been a rough year for science, human rights, equality, the economy, the environment. . .and while we’re all doing what we can, you make us laugh, and that is so important. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve taught us how to find joy through grief, respite in catastrophe, and motivation in adversity.
I don’t know how far you schedule in advance—maybe next year is booked. But if it’s not, would you save a day for us? You might even like to take in some local theater (which you probably already know is second only to Broadway in seats per capita) or visit the renowned Playwright’s Center. It could be fun.
Lastly, the Super Bowl is coming here and we kind of need your nerdiness to bring balance to the Force since Neil Gaiman doesn’t hang about these parts much anymore. I’m not trying to be psychophantic, but you could be the hero the Twin Cities deserves. I don’t really have a signal we could shine into the sky or anything, but I did sketch a crude drawing of the Oswalt Family Crest as you describe it: eyes rolling off to the side, a bag of Cheetos, and the word fuck.
Did you know Land O’Lakes is the executive supplier of Cheetos dust? We’re also the home of the Juicy Lucy (a hamburger with cheese inside it that differs from a cheeseburger simply because the cheese is cooked inside the meat instead of placed on top). I mean, that’s almost as good of material as the famous bowl right there. And I know I speak for the greater nerd population here when I say, “Please come back and do another show.”