Inspiration Strikes

nmyLisa:		So yeah, two soda reviews this week?
nmyStephen:		What else could I write about in three minutes and get two articles?
nmyLisa:		Tru dat.
nmyLisa:		Ooh, I know - I saw Jane's Addiction last week. I'll write about how Dave Navarro has ruined all other men for me.
nmyLisa:		I'll look really neurotic, it will be great.
nmyStephen:		Excellent!
nmyLisa:		Ooh, and we can put sexy pictures of him in it...
nmyLisa:		I need a old shower already
nmyLisa:		*cold
nmyStephen:		An old shower sounds disgusting.

And that's how we come up with these brilliant ideas for articles.

I think the whole Dave Navarro thing started for me in college. I sort of knew he was the guy in Jane's Addiction, and whenever he popped up on MTV I would pop up in my seat and start breathing a little heavier. Eventually I did a little Internet research and liked what I saw. (Although I accidentally found this Dave Navarro a few times by accident. Must suck to be him.)

The Obessesion...er, Admiration, Grows
Then a friend loaned me a tape of a Chili Peppers show when Dave was playing with them, and I think I wore the damn thing out. He was sultry. He was confident. He closed his eyes and played like he meant it, but not in the cheesy About A Boy way. He was passionate and dark and mysterious and beautiful.

About two years ago Dave's first solo album came out, entitled Trust No One. And that's pretty much the theme throughout every song. I bought it expecting rock god proclamations about women and wild nights and fame and success, but that wasn't it at all. Instead, it's an album about his mom (who was murdered when he was a teenager), and his unhappy past relationships (I hate my life, I hate my life. Never want another wife.) and about struggling to be happy, or even slightly not miserable, while feeling very alone.

That made him something even better in my book. He was human, and not perfect, and not at all full of himself. There's nothing that a girl like me appreciates more than a guy who's gorgeous on the outside, but fighting demons inside. I dig angst. Genuinely happy people bore me. Maybe I need some drama in my life, maybe I like a challenge, but there's something inherently fascinating and alluring to me about, as Sarah McLachlan puts it, a 'beautiful, fucked up man.'

Dave Spells Doom for Potential Suitors
And now you know why none of my Internet dates have made it past a handshake. They are all much too normal, with small, simple lives as data programmers or graphic designers. There's nothing at all tragic or compelling about a graphic designer, even a hot one.

I do have other rock star crushes. I think Robbie Williams' swagger and ego is damn sexy, even if he's not conventionally good looking. The All-American Rejects' Tyson Ritter has gorgeous eyes and a down-home Oklahoma charm and modesty that's highly endearing. And Jack White... well, he may be odd looking, but when he's wailing Jolene, or thrashing around a stage in the midst of Let's Build a Home or instructing me to be like the squirrel, girl, well, I don't want to love him like a little brother. Take me to Wichita, honey, hypnotize me.

But Dave, well Dave is eclectic enough to own a coffin, funny enough to poke fun at himself in interviews, and vulnerable enough to hide behind dark sunglasses indoors or at night. But he also looks really freaking good in fishnets, the pierced nipples make my mouth water, and I think it's because of him that I'm attracted to guys who can carry off black nail polish. Although that might be a slight Spike/James Marsters influence as well.

And that has, in the past, drawn me to date musician types who were sexy and fun and brilliant, and in love with themselves and their dreams and less-than-interested in long-term commitment. The lovin' was always spectacular, but it was passion that burned too hot, too fast. They just don't live up to Dave. They have the charisma, but none of the modesty or sensitivity.

I Won't Even Tell You About Flying to Vegas to See the Jane's Reunion Tour
I saw Dave perform at the Hatch Shell in Boston and then the next night at Lupo's in Providence right when TNO came out. It was his band's very first live performances, and while they looked to be having a great time, it was obvious they were still fine-tuning the act. The crowd was enthused though, and the cheering and screaming increased with every song. Towards the end of the show Dave said, "Um, we'd love to play some more, but those are the only songs we know." It was dorky and honest and slightly self-deprecating. Once the show was over he started to walk off stage, but turned and added, quietly, "I also wanted to thank the Sheila Devine and WBCN, and I almost forgot, and then I'd have to come back out here and look like a jerk, so I'll do it now. Thank you." Thoughtful, even when the night was clearly all about him.

And if you're wondering why I can remember something he said two years ago, it's not because of my finely tuned memorization skills. I know that he said that because I later bought a video of the show on ebay. And a few posters. And limited edition screensaver. And a trade industry ad. And a pin. And... slap bracelets. (They came with an import CD, I swear.) You don't want to know about the Apolo Ohno stuff I got after the Olympics. I have since banned myself from ebay.

But back to the music.

Have a listen to Rexall where he sings the aforementioned line about his wife, and ends with, "I want the life you think I have." Sigh. See? It's not all fun and games being a celebrity. And the final line of the album, "Sometimes, I don't feel so good." I just want to give him a big hug. And then lick him, top to bottom. And then some more hugs.

The album also has one of the coldest, most callous breakup speeches ever, even above American Psycho's, "You're just not that important to me," in Avoiding the Angel. I hope to be able to use it at some point in the future:

I never really even loved you
I'm just really insecure
I never really even cared
Never tasted that pure
I don't think I ever liked you
I just had some time

Well Dave, I may be insecure, and I do have a lot of time on my hands, but I promise, I love you for more than that. You're the fantasy I'll get to keep and cherish and use in the bedroom, even when I finally give up and date some average shlub. And if that whole Carmen thing doesn't work out, I'm there for you babe.