“Dear Marjorie”

My Grandma May Be Super Dead

But That Didn’t Keep Her From Co-Writing This Song With Me!

Sometimes a Global Pandemic™ hits and you find yourself with your 90 year old Grandma as your roommate in an A-frame cottage in small town Wisconsin. 

Sometimes you don’t realize how much that time meant to you until you find yourself spending the winter in that cottage 2 years later. Without her.

Sometimes you find yourself sitting in the little studio you made out of your Grandpa’s (also super dead) old woodshop, crying at an excruciating level and length, while a song is slowly gifted to you from said Grandma.

Sometimes you find yourself somehow having lived at a magical house in Laurel Canyon the previous 4 months, inspired by the harmonies of Crosby, Stills, and Nash wafting in like ghosts down the road. 

Sometimes you ask your freak friends James and Molly if they could do that thing where they make up 2 harmonies you could have never thought of yourself for you to live sandwiched between, and also if they’re free on wednesday to record it live at Rax Trax in Chicago because you booked some time the month before just in case.

“Dear Marjorie” is the story of these sometimes, and much more. It’s the story of what happens when you open your heart (or it’s opened for you) to the magic of what could be if you’d just follow those little whispers of inspiration we so often suppress. It’s the story of finding out what grief really is, not some overwhelming forever sadness that we should avoid, but the ticket to really living fully human lives here. Because yeah grief is sadness, but it’s also joy and absurdity and restoration. It’s all there if we allow ourselves to feel it. 

I hope that you’ll take a listen and feel whatever it is you need to feel right now to let yourself be a little bit more human today, super dead grandma or not.

Sincerely,

Wallace Tallman