Dearest Zoe,
Darlin’, we gotta talk. I just heard World of Strangers, and it seems like you’re doing so well. I always liked watching you play, but I honestly didn’t know you had that in you. It just breaks my heart that you had to dump me to do it.
So this new dude, Austin: He seems pretty great. It kills me to think there’s someone else out there who’s kinder, hotter, smarter and richer than I, but that’s clearly the case. I want whatever makes you happiest. But I’d do about anything to get you back.
Why didn’t you just tell me you needed a margarita? I’d have taken the kid myself for a night, and blended you up a damn fishbowl’s worth. And I know I could have been a lot nicer to Annabelle. She was troubled and sweet, but I was just so self-involved.
Was it that I cheated on you with so many other musical genres? That I wouldn’t eat meat? Was it the rain, or the fact that I made fun of F-150s and insisted on riding an old Schwinn everywhere? Was it all the product I put on my mustache, or that I only wore boots ironically?
All I know, Zoe, is that you’ve never sounded better. Your breezy, low-register Emmylou/Kelly Willis thing is so fully-formed, your lyrics so poignantly atmospheric, your collaborators so tight. (You know Bruce Robison’s married, right?) If Austin helped you with all that, well, he must be a helluva guy. I wish you the best; just be sure to visit from time to time.
Yours always,
Seattle
