The first letter is a very important one about a friend who will be forever missed. Please stick around after that for a postcard with a fun fact, and a letter to a wine company. And also, thanks for being here with me. I appreciate you.
Letter Talk is a short (~10 minutes), comedy podcast where a I (@alyssapants) write letters to anyone about anything, and I’d be honored to write one to you.
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- Letter Talk is written and produced by me, and my sister Amy edits my writing. This episode features music from Kevin MacLeod.
Read the letters after the jump!
Letters
I’m writing this letter because for a long time, I’ve held this feeling in my heart, or my gut, that you can write letters to people who have passed and somehow they’ll hear you. It’s almost like praying in a sense (not saying that God is dead or anything, here. I’m not super well versed in that stuff. As far as I know there are still three of them and they’re in a three piece group called the “Holy Trinity” — like some sort of spiritual Blink-192).
I’m immensely sad to be writing you this letter under these circumstances. At this point I am grateful to have known you, and grateful to have been your friend. I’m having a very hard time coming to terms with knowing that I won’t bump into you at a show somewhere, or that I’ll never see you post something funny, or just have a conversation with you again.
We never got to have our bro show, man. We had so many conversations about doing a show where we had a competition to find the broiest comedian in DC, hosted by you and me, a couple of tank top wearing bros. We argued about the name: I said the “Great American Bro Off,” and you insisted on “Bro-Down Hoedown.”
Remember when you posted a dumb comment suggesting a show where you just do shitty impressions of people after their sets? It was half joking, but we produced the show anyway. I think a lot of unsuccessful ideas come from “Hey wouldn’t it be funny if?” Usually the joy derived from the thought of it is about as far as it should go. This was an exception: it was a really funny show. You mercilessly, but still kindly, mocked all of us, using a ton of outfits you brought as props and costumes.
I remember when we were working on a group project together and I was in kind of a bad place, emotionally. I already found it a bit stressful, but I my ability to deal with it was already compromised. I would leave planning meetings and cry in my car on the way home. On a weekly basis I would tell myself that I was going to quit, but you were one of only a few reasons I didn’t. Your genuine caring for others, lighthearted demeanor, and warmth was a huge comfort. It wasn’t just a comfort there, it was everywhere you were. To an extent I still find large gatherings of comedians inherently stressful, but seeing you somewhere was always a relief. I know I’m not the only one who feels the same way.
My friend Tim always had this phrase, “You can be bad at comedy or you can be an asshole, but you can’t be both.” You were neither. To be as astronomically good at comedy as you were, and still be one of the kindest people in the DC scene, was a wonderful gift to the comedy community. You were a “Randy Orton” in comedy: the commentators would say “if you could build a wrestler from the ground up, you’d build Randy Orton.” (OMG people, don’t @ me on this one, it’s just an example). If I could build a friend from the ground up, I would build a Dylan: hilarious, super chill, and has a metaphoric heart as big as the Big Show (well).
This has been such a difficult thing for us all to process. I’m going to miss you terribly. We will all miss you terribly. I’m still in shock and disbelief, and immense sadness. The world lost someone truly wonderful and truly loved. I hope that people remember you and continue to be inspired by your example. The world needs more Dylans.
Thank you for all that you’ve shared with us.
Love,
Alyssa
P.S. Remember when you, Donnie and I convinced Shelley that our friends got arrested at her house while she left for a few hours? What a classic goof and Shelley reaction.
“It doesn’t cost anything to be nice.” … but you also don’t earn anything monetarily, and that’s why I’m suspicious of you, but I also appreciate you more than I appreciate eating eggs, and I love eggs.
P.S. I’m not suspicious of you. You’re the best, and I wanted to tell you that.
Dear Carlo Rossi,
Let me start off first by saying I don’t know anything about wine. In fact, just now I wikipedia’d you to see whether you’re an actual dude or not. So far the signs point to yes, but in a Batman type way. It seems like there was an original Carlo Rossi, but if you had to, someone else could be Carlo Rossi.
Given that I don’t understand wine or wine people, I was hoping you could help me answer some questions about Niles and Frasier Crane. You see all this weekend I have been medicating my sadness by watching episode after episode of NBC’s smash hit sitcom Frasier, staring Kelsey Grammer as the titular character. It’s been a comforting escape because it’s not stressful to watch at all; there’s absolutely nothing to worry about in that show. It’s rich white people and a laugh track, clearly nothing can go really wrong here. I can fall asleep to it without issue or worry of nightmares.
In the show, Frasier and his brother Niles are bougie psychiatrists who talk about wine and opera, things that plebes like me don’t get. I have to admit as much as I enjoy the show there are still a bunch of things I don’t understand about it, and I’m hoping you can help. I’ve crafted a list for your review:
- And this is not intended as a slam on Kelsey Grammer, but there are instances in the show were women are talking about Frasier like he’s a very handsome man. Some of these instances even occur in the first season when he had that curly bouge mullet thing. I don’t get it. Maybe I’m the wrong judge of this because I wasn’t in my 30s when the show was on, but he seems like he just looks like some guy. Was taste different back then? Or do bougie wine people just have different tastes?
- Why aren’t people more angry with Frasier? Sometimes the misunderstandings end with an “oh well, it’s ok” and a shrug, and I’m here thinking, “yo if that happened to me I would be hella pissed at Frasier.” Is that what being a white man is like? Everyone is like, “ok you get a pass.”
- The neckties Niles wears are as wide as his legs, and it’s jarring. In the 90s were rich people judged by the wideness of their neckties?
- I was talking to my sister about the show and she asked, “Why does Frasier have to sing all the time?” And I responded that it was the theme song and theme songs happen with every episode. She then clarified and pointed out that there are plenty of times when he’s just singing in the show for no reason. Do you know why that’s a thing? Asking for a friend.
- A lot of scenes start off with him saying something hella snarky on the radio, and I keep wondering how he doesn’t get fired all the time. I mean don’t get me wrong, I think his snarky comments are usually funny, but judging from my extensive radio knowledge (which is considerably derived from watching NewsRadio) that isn’t professional. How does he get away with it?
Additionally, I don’t want to sound like I don’t really appreciate Frasier and all the laughs and goofs I’ve gotten from the show over the years. Hell, my dog even looks like an anime reimagining of Eddie the Jack Russell, with softer features and a curly tail. I’ve enclosed a picture of her so you can admire her.
Also, thanks for making jug wine. If I can find a supplier that makes wine to be stored in a standup bass and a washboard I could have my own band after drinking. Haha, you guys are a riot. I hope to hear back soon.
Yours in tossed salads and scrambled eggs,
Alyssa