The Eddie Vedder Theory
Oh, my baby, my baby she don't want me no more
Ever since she saw his poster in that record store
She says the way he grinds his molars is really sexy
She thinks he's so darn dysfunctional and "Generation X"y
She likes his brooding angst and his wild-eyed stare
Yeah, he's her very favorite slacker multi-millionaire
Well, my baby's in love with Eddie Vedder
She's all crazy 'bout that Eddie Vedder
Once she was mine, but now I better just forget her
'Cause my baby's in love with Eddie Vedder
-Weird Al Yankovic
Sorry, Sirius Black, my unattainable literary crush. You’ve toppled from first place on The List. I’m in love with unattainable rock star Eddie Vedder. And it seems I’m not alone, if Weird Al’s song is any indication. Luckily for me, though, my husband looks far more like Eddie than Al so peace still reigns in our home.
A crush on EV is difficult to sustain and quite exhausting. Intelligence constantly battles with shallow desire, creating a personal war zone.
Despite eyes that can melt the ice caps, a voice fashioned from caramel at Willy Wonka’s factory, that surfer body and rock star cool, EV seems like a decent chap, a regular guy. He’s a doting father, champion of kindness and decency, hard-working professional, and warrior for the downtrodden. He exemplifies anti-celebrity and all the shallow behavior that accompanies such state.
Lusting after EV is an insult to the man, really, and I don’t think he’d approve of me wasting time and energy plotting ways to capture his attention at his upcoming show at the Opera House. So far, the best I have is the old bra-in-the-face move that is guaranteed to garner his annoyance... and extreme fright, since removing my bra in public could be considered an act of criminal intent.
A theme in George Eliot’s books is how romantic love can help better one’s character or, alternatively, if one chooses poorly, love can ruin one’s life. Now, a person of substance will find inner strength and wisdom to perfect his or her character. Some find inspiration and guidance through religion. I am not such a person.
Falling in love inspires me to be a better person. Since I can’t sustain a crush on my true love (aka husband) ALL the time, I have crushes on unattainables. And when in love with said unattainable, I am kinder, courteous, charitable, inspired, energetic and joy filled. Perhaps this is shallow, but it works. I’ve tried religion, but it doesn’t click for me and while I do not believe you can find a better man’s example to follow than Jesus's, somehow, having a crush on Jesus just seems wrong. Although it did work for Mary Magdalene.
Hence Eddie Vedder. A crush on EV will not only inspire you to wait outside his Boston hotel for hours until he walks out via the back entrance so that he's missed entirely, but you will no doubt volunteer at a soup kitchen to balance out the day. Pick Brett Michaels, on the other hand and all you will end up with is leathery skin and a lifelong supply of cheaply made push-up bras. And possibly lung cancer.
So Eddie, thank you for allowing me to justify my insanity. I’ll see you on August 1. I’ll be in the Dress Circle, first row, dead center. If you say hello, I won’t have to remove my bra.
How Loving EV Improves My Character: It’s so easy to be kind to strangers. Don’t need the man for that. I am, currently, more patient and compassionate to those that are close to me at those times when they most get on my nerves. Now, I don’t pull my hair out when my toddler asks the same why question for two hours straight. I can laugh and shake my head fondly at my husband for wearing that ridiculous red bandana. And my father’s whistling ceases to…well, that still drives me to snarl at him. I’m working on it.
Charity of Choice: There are too many people in need – war veterans, firefighters, disaster casualties, disease victims, battered children…for awhile, I was giving little bits here and little bits there, which only left me more depressed and hopeless, similar as to how one feels after watching Gone, Baby, Gone. Now, I pick one charity and donate to that once a year. It’s not enough, but financially, it’s the best I can do and it's a start.
So I choose The Smile Train. Those poor children, born into pain and ridicule, and there’s an easy and inexpensive fix for it.
Song of the Day: We’ve All Been Beat Up Enough (Bow Thayer, not Eddie Vedder. Really.) Followed by Jabe's Goddam Train. Can't get it out of my head and I don't mind it one bit.
Nightstand Reading: Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies. Beautiful.
Ever since she saw his poster in that record store
She says the way he grinds his molars is really sexy
She thinks he's so darn dysfunctional and "Generation X"y
She likes his brooding angst and his wild-eyed stare
Yeah, he's her very favorite slacker multi-millionaire
Well, my baby's in love with Eddie Vedder
She's all crazy 'bout that Eddie Vedder
Once she was mine, but now I better just forget her
'Cause my baby's in love with Eddie Vedder
-Weird Al Yankovic
Sorry, Sirius Black, my unattainable literary crush. You’ve toppled from first place on The List. I’m in love with unattainable rock star Eddie Vedder. And it seems I’m not alone, if Weird Al’s song is any indication. Luckily for me, though, my husband looks far more like Eddie than Al so peace still reigns in our home.
A crush on EV is difficult to sustain and quite exhausting. Intelligence constantly battles with shallow desire, creating a personal war zone.
Despite eyes that can melt the ice caps, a voice fashioned from caramel at Willy Wonka’s factory, that surfer body and rock star cool, EV seems like a decent chap, a regular guy. He’s a doting father, champion of kindness and decency, hard-working professional, and warrior for the downtrodden. He exemplifies anti-celebrity and all the shallow behavior that accompanies such state.
Lusting after EV is an insult to the man, really, and I don’t think he’d approve of me wasting time and energy plotting ways to capture his attention at his upcoming show at the Opera House. So far, the best I have is the old bra-in-the-face move that is guaranteed to garner his annoyance... and extreme fright, since removing my bra in public could be considered an act of criminal intent.
A theme in George Eliot’s books is how romantic love can help better one’s character or, alternatively, if one chooses poorly, love can ruin one’s life. Now, a person of substance will find inner strength and wisdom to perfect his or her character. Some find inspiration and guidance through religion. I am not such a person.
Falling in love inspires me to be a better person. Since I can’t sustain a crush on my true love (aka husband) ALL the time, I have crushes on unattainables. And when in love with said unattainable, I am kinder, courteous, charitable, inspired, energetic and joy filled. Perhaps this is shallow, but it works. I’ve tried religion, but it doesn’t click for me and while I do not believe you can find a better man’s example to follow than Jesus's, somehow, having a crush on Jesus just seems wrong. Although it did work for Mary Magdalene.
Hence Eddie Vedder. A crush on EV will not only inspire you to wait outside his Boston hotel for hours until he walks out via the back entrance so that he's missed entirely, but you will no doubt volunteer at a soup kitchen to balance out the day. Pick Brett Michaels, on the other hand and all you will end up with is leathery skin and a lifelong supply of cheaply made push-up bras. And possibly lung cancer.
So Eddie, thank you for allowing me to justify my insanity. I’ll see you on August 1. I’ll be in the Dress Circle, first row, dead center. If you say hello, I won’t have to remove my bra.
How Loving EV Improves My Character: It’s so easy to be kind to strangers. Don’t need the man for that. I am, currently, more patient and compassionate to those that are close to me at those times when they most get on my nerves. Now, I don’t pull my hair out when my toddler asks the same why question for two hours straight. I can laugh and shake my head fondly at my husband for wearing that ridiculous red bandana. And my father’s whistling ceases to…well, that still drives me to snarl at him. I’m working on it.
Charity of Choice: There are too many people in need – war veterans, firefighters, disaster casualties, disease victims, battered children…for awhile, I was giving little bits here and little bits there, which only left me more depressed and hopeless, similar as to how one feels after watching Gone, Baby, Gone. Now, I pick one charity and donate to that once a year. It’s not enough, but financially, it’s the best I can do and it's a start.
So I choose The Smile Train. Those poor children, born into pain and ridicule, and there’s an easy and inexpensive fix for it.
Song of the Day: We’ve All Been Beat Up Enough (Bow Thayer, not Eddie Vedder. Really.) Followed by Jabe's Goddam Train. Can't get it out of my head and I don't mind it one bit.
Nightstand Reading: Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies. Beautiful.
posted by Dina Keratsis at
3:52 PM
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