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It’s been only about three months since beloved local quirk-pop queen Rachel Goodrich left you, me, and the Magic City for the big, bright floodlights of La La Land. And already we miss her so much.
We watched helplessly as Rachel picked out her favorite records, stuffed her suitcase, and piloted her car across the country. And like creeps, we continued to monitor her activity from afar as she released her self-titled sophomore album, attracted lavish compliments from fancy media types like Vogue, and crooned her little ditties almost every single night for swooning strangers at L.A.’s Hotel Café.
Our hearts hurt. But eventually, we stopped feeling so damn sorry for ourselves and got up the guts to give Rachel a call. “I do plan on coming back to Miami,” she assured us, though keeping the details vague, “and hopefully putting together a big CD-release party for this new record. But I don’t have a date right now.”
At the time, we thought, Maybe she’s just being nice and doesn’t wanna hurt our feelings. But lo, Rachel is a lady of her word. And this Friday, she’ll come home for a midnight rendezvous with you, me, and the Magic City.
Would it be weird if we brought her a gift? Like, say, an antique didjeridoo and a quart of Wild Turkey?
