Message in a Bottle

April 2025

MCG,

Looking back, I should have acknowledged the warning signs about him but I was still young then and kind of desperate to be loved in a way that wasn’t truly reasonable. I suppose sometimes even today I’m still guilty of that desire. It was my first trip to New York City and I just didn’t want to ruin the experience with a disagreement. When my boyfriend at the time refused to go see Bridget Everett and the Tender Moments, I reluctantly agreed to his prix fixe dinner reservation instead. Though at that moment in time I had no understanding of what prix fixe actually meant, I was born and bred in a buffet line. Needless to say, the latin-asian-fusion-whatever experience wasn’t the true source of my disappointment that evening, just what induced hunger pangs in the middle of the night. 

I was first introduced to Everett’s work when I stumbled upon a review of At Least It's Pink: A Trashy Little Show. It was the ardent way that the writer described her performance that made me feel connected to her. From that moment on I wanted Everett to win. I still do. Like most fans, I laughed at Fun Mom Dinner, cried at Patti Cake$ and cheered at the Amazon pilot Love You More. The latter of which I am sure Amazon eventually regretted not green lighting. And then, of course, Somebody Somewhere appeared from the heavens. At first, I faithfully watched to see Everett shine once again but as the story progressed I realized that I tuned in to see you.

There were aspects of Sam and the rest of the Manhattan crew that filled my growing-up-queer-in-a-small-town cup but watching Tricia’s journey unfold allowed me to reflect on my own. Apart from the insightful writing and thoughtful staging, it was your delicate care of the character that brought her fully to life. At first glance, Tricia could have easily been the wronged, angry sister. Truthfully, she had a right to be. Yet you saw beyond those baseline attributes to show the passionate entrepreneur with a vulnerable, open heart instead. 

Along with expertly delivered intonations in your voice, you used signature facial expressions and movement to demonstrate how Tricia used her pain as fuel to conquer the next stage of her life after such unfortunate heartbreak. Across the seasons, she went from being completely closed off to becoming more free and open. Not just with rebuilding her career but through her own personal evolution. 

There is a remarkable series of moments in Season 2, Episode 4: Keys Phone Cash ID that I’ve rewatched more times than I can count at this point. The epic “acting like a nightmare” speech is an easy favorite, especially the look of relief in Tricia’s eyes as she slams the door shut. But the most significant are the softer touches throughout the episode. The self assured smile of satisfaction as she works on her phone shows her quiet celebration of her pillow success which builds so wonderfully into the emotional confession to Sam about the business she has kept a secret up to that point. It’s a glorious breakthrough of choosing love and trust. And she never looks back from there.

You are likely not surprised that the prix fixe boy and I didn’t work out and for many years after that I endured a few personal and romantic heartbreaks that resulted in developing some Tricia-like anger. Anger that sometimes limited me and closed off a few relationships. I realize now that I eventually channeled that energy into evolving and achieving a few of my own small dreams along the way. Your wonderful performance reminded me of all the above and allowed me space to cherish all the steps that I’ve taken in my own life. A heartfelt thank you for that fact.

I don’t believe that Somebody Somewhere is over because how could something that meaningful ever truly find an end. I believe it will evolve and continue on. Until then, I’ll be trishing upon a star to see the next amazing performance of your impactful career.

With immense gratitude,
S.C.

February 2025

T.K.

Over a decade ago, I found myself in a dirty Adams Morgan bar in the middle of the day after taking an extended lunch from my seemingly important day job. It was clear from my pastel tie and matching blazer that I didn’t belong there. I could feel the patron’s eyes on me but perhaps that was just my ever-present feeling of never quite belonging anywhere at anytime. Between the petty ridiculing of my boss and the pressures of a complicated family, I needed to be somewhere that I could disappear for the afternoon. I sat there in a dark corner with a rail vodka soda that was more vodka than soda and allowed myself to fully listen to the whims of the gruff bartender’s musical selections. That’s when I first heard you over the crackling speakers.

Your voice was striking. Filled with razor-sharp pain as you shared so confidently of the trials and tribulations of relationships. You seemed to understand the power of accepting mistakes in a way I had not yet acknowledged in my own life. But it was how you unified so effortlessly with the rest of the band that shook me. Unlike my life at that time, you had found your own rightful place. It seemed so simple in that moment but somehow along my own journey I had started to resist the sheer might of music. Yet in one forceful spin I was thrust back. I’d later learn, much to the bartender’s surprise at my asking, that the song was ‘I’m Your Man’ from your Ghosts of Champoeg album with The Hill Dogs.

Much of your writing feels like a steel bear trap. It strikes suddenly and in unexpected places but once it attaches, it truly never lets go. It can cause pain but more importantly its the pause in step that makes it so powerful. It forces you to take time to stop and confront all that you have attempted to run away from.

There is a moment at the beginning of ‘Strange Leaves in a Strange Light’ from your solo debut Wannabe that I sometimes think about in the quieter moments of my day. The nearly 23 seconds at the beginning along with a deep breath struck me as such a critical choice. A grounding moment to connect and to allow us to pause before you deliver poignant lines like “You laid your graceful hands on my spine and each vertebrae you pressed combined with leaves the trees had left.” Perhaps it was a casual selection but it impacted me.

You seemed to ferociously unleash your wild side on the hiliariously, boisterous work with TK & The Holy Know-Nothings. Even so many years later, Arguably OK remains to be one of the best Americana albums of the last decade. It’s self depricating honesty about self-sabotage, manhood and trying to find love in a harsh world strikes again and again. Upon each listen, I hear a new layer. A choice I didn’t notice before. It echoes all the glorious influence of Terry Allen’s expansive storytelling that continues to captivate and inspire. I can only imagine what he might have thought upon his first listen to it as a whole.

Likely that perhaps the world isn’t so doomed with your art in it. Perhaps there is still honor in being honest. And perhaps, just maybe, there is peace and joy to be found even in the rubble.

With immense gratitude,
S.C.