Girls just want to be saved.
When my best pal Teresa and I were sophomores, we fervently wished that Evan Dando would materialize right in front of us on the godforsaken army base where we went to high school and say “Howdy”. We were lonely and we hated almost everyone in sight. We deduced, based on his soulful singing, his ability to always cock his head, and the way that he seemed actually wiser and more defiant than his bimbo-y image, that Evan Dando would be really fun to hang out with. That he would embody “hanging out” and that — given our stressful and depressing surroundings — we actually needed him.
Plus, Evan Dando was hot. Plus, he sang “Ride With Me”. Plus, he was a beautiful soul person and we went to school on an army base.
Dandoland! Dandoland! It became a chanty religious thing, as we loved to play with words and — did I mention — we were bored? Evanism. A Jolly Green Bus Stop. Oh god. Sitting on the top of the hill during lunch wishing that Evan was there making dandelion (Dandolion!) chains with us… singing the Cure song “Just Like Evan”. Ha! That was supposed to be this whole post somehow and I was supposed to make it awhile ago and it was supposed to be nostalgic and about the Pitchfork countdown. I was supposed to end on the note that I wouldn’t have been lonely if I had known my husband then because he loved the Lemonheads and would have been sweet to me. It’s true. He would have been.
Whatever my point was supposed to be about nostalgia got ruined the night that I couldn’t sleep and I watched a million videos of Evan Dando performances and interviews on YouTube. It turns out that I still feel exactly the same about him. Like, as he is now, old Evan. Old Evan is the same as perfect 1993 Evan. He is awkward and sweet and funny and defiant and soulful and hard not to make fun of and I think he is smarter and cooler than all of us. I’m really bummed that I didn’t go see him play when he was here earlier this year. Basically, all that happened in the formation of this derailed blog post is that I found myself standing in front of a mirror at two in the morning — wishing I could go to sleep — but wishing even more that I could hang out with Evan Dando, chanting…