by Dave Navarro
“With this much clarity and distance, I really have a black-and-white sense of before and after,” he said. “And the conclusion, I realize, is not getting off drugs, but getting a life. There’s no reason to get off drugs if you’re going to get bummed out. I needed to change my whole life. And I have.”
All the projects Dave was working on back then that he never completed—his solo record, the Jane’s Addiction documentary, this book—came into being only after he cleaned up. And then there are new projects that he never dreamed of that have come about from his ability to get out of the house and think clearly: meeting Bill Clinton and performing with Michael Jackson at a Democratic Party fundraiser; playing on Christina Aguilera’s Stripped album; starting a rock side project called Camp Freddy; and jamming with childhood heroes from KISS to Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. He even reunited (but didn’t relapse) with Jane’s Addiction for a tour, a CD, and the Lollapalooza festival. And then there’s ’Til Death Do Us Part, his wedding-preparation show with Carmen, which had the highest-rated premiere in the history of MTV.
Between the show and the paparazzi, he says, “My life gets documented so much that I don’t need to do it myself anymore. I don’t need to own a camera when everyone else has one.”
In fact, his cleaning ladies are gone, his drug dealer is gone, and, since he moved, the pizza and Pink Dot delivery people have changed. In the meantime, however, Adam Schneider, Heather Perry, Chad Smith, his father, his stepmother, Adria, and all his other friends and family members are still in his life.
“It blows me away how sick I was,” he says. “All the people that I was whining about are still hanging around. They never went anywhere. The problem was that the more consequences I wasn’t willing to face up to, the more fucked up I accused everybody else of being. I was never willing to take responsibility for anything.”
Two years ago, after Carmen and Dave got engaged, they moved to this new home—allowing Dave to change his environment, as people like Jen and Tori had been begging him to do for years.
“I didn’t want this new relationship dwelling in a place full of old baggage,” he explained, lighting a cigarette, his only vice besides watching reality TV shows. “I realized that the little projects from the old house that I thought were going to change the world were just a bunch of shit nailed to a piece of wood. So I threw out tons of stuff and made a clean break. I wanted to start over—clean—and not be attached to any of the things that I thought defined me.
“So we found a house that was the polar opposite from where I’d been. And I took it upon myself to hire the designers to make it look clean and sparse and bright—like a home. It just feels like a new lease on life.”
When Dave’s statuesque, black-haired stylist arrives—looking like a healthy version of Mary—with free shirts and clogs for him, he continues, “I guess there’s a similarity between this house and my old house—except she’s dropping off clothes and not heroin.”
Dave, of course, is still an addict he is addicted to the gym, to high-protein meals, to sobriety meetings, to cleanliness, to being a husband, to the bands he plays in, to The Apprentice. One of the biggest differences I notice is that no one is walking on eggshells around him anymore; he has stopped picking fights with people over minor faux pas or turns of phrase. He seems to have learned one of the greatest secrets to a happy existence: not to take things personally, a hard dictum to follow when under the delusional thrall of cocaine.
Carmen is in her bedroom, wearing a powder blue sweat suit and packing for a trip to London. There is a question that Dave and I are dying to ask her: Looking back on Dave’s past, how does she feel about it?
“I think that it makes him the person that he is now,” she says without hesitation. “And I love that person.”
Dave beams and throws himself onto her bed. “And I love that he’s done everything and been through it all,” she continues. “There is something very wise about Dave because of all of his experiences. And his knowledge and spirituality help me with things that I get stuck on.”
She drops onto the bed next to him and puts her hand over his. “The thing about Dave and the drugs and whatnot is that he never intentionally tried to hurt anyone. He was just hurting himself. He’s a sweet person. He has a sweet soul. So in a way it was his own little beautiful darkness. It was a self-tortured little sadness that I could relate to in my own way. He was a poor little piggly wiggly, because he has a piggly-wiggly tail.”
Oh, God. Baby talk. Things really have changed.
“Now get out of my room,” she snaps, scrunching up her nose. “I have to be out of the house in fifteen minutes.”
I leave the room. Dave follows.
“Is it too late to make a change to the book?” he asks.
Maybe. What do you want to do?
“I just have one request,” he says. “Can we change the name Dave to Steve?”
part II LOVE IN L.A. IV: LOVE DOESN’T HAVE TO CRUSH YOUR HEART LIKE A COKE CAN
BY DAVE NAVARRO
Forever and ever. I had this idea in previous columns of forever and ever. Where did that come from? I mean, ’til death do us part is an awesome goal, but where does it say that for love to be successful, it has to last that long? I know so many people who are discouraged by love because it fails to be everlasting. In fact, I was one of those people.
I now say, “Why does it have to? Hasn’t the experience been a good one? Haven’t we grown as individuals? Have we had fun, laughter, erotic sex, and lots of experiences we can use in the future and with new relationships? It felt like love, but since it didn’t last till the end of time, it wasn’t? Bullshit.”
Everlasting love is a great goal, but it’s not the only path to happiness with someone. Sometimes when we say, “We moved on,” we feel like what we are really saying is, “We failed.” But perhaps we actually succeeded. We don’t know what life has in store for us. I can tell you that I am a better partner now as a result of my relationship with Adria. I have learned so much from her and other past relationships. They are all a part of who I am today, the man my wife loves. And conversely, it is also true that my wife’s past loves are a part of who she is. And I am grateful for that. A cliche that holds true for me is that it is all about the journey, not the destination. There is no ride into the sunset and fade to black. No finish line.
Open to the idea. I suppose that being open to the idea is really the point. For me, as soon as I stopped trying to figure out what love was supposed to be or look like and just decided to be open, my whole life changed. I am now happily married to a woman I not only love dearly, but who is also my best friend. I have often been asked, “What’s the key, then?”
Well, for us, I think there are several. There are of course the obvious ones: space, individual lives, career direction, and so forth. Honesty and communication are also essential. We don’t really expect one to “fix” the other when there is an issue, but we verbalize the issue without making it personal. It’s hard to do but worth the effort.
Beyond these, there a couple of huge things that have worked for us. We have learned to love each other’s defects. Remember how the idea of a spilled glass of wine used to drive me nuts? Well, it still does. My wife, God bless her, has a tendency to leave Coke cans everywhere in the house. Half-empty Coke cans—and let me tell you, whether I view them as half empty or half full, they invariably spill all over the place. What I have done is learned to love the Coke cans and love the way she leaves them everywhere. It took time, but I am there … at least, most of the time. It’s about acceptance. I accept her and love her for who she is, who she was, and what she does or doesn’t do. It’s a process. I figured out that it’s much easier just to deal with stuff than to try to change someone.
It’s hard. I won’t deny that. Love requires work and discipline, just like anything else. If you want to get stronger, you go to the gym—but it is hard. If you want to learn an instrument, you have to practice�
�but it is hard.
Eventually, though, the challenge becomes fun and the rewards begin to show. The blues scale that you learned on Saturday just might not work on Tuesday, but you could end up being a much better player on Wednesday. The funny thing is that these examples only require an individual effort and they are still hard, yet somehow we feel that love, which requires two people, should be easy and free. So, have I finally found the one, you ask. Well, which one? This one? That one? Someone? What did I mean by “the one” in the first place? I guess I was hoping for the one to be a person who completed me perfectly; who took away all my defects of character; who made me funnier, smarter, more interesting, and more attractive. An “ornament to my vanity,” as Neil called it once. A partner who never had a problem with me, and if I had one with her, I would be right. A woman I could ride off into the sunset with. A woman who would never cease to be a sexually engaging animal. Basically, a void, challengeless blank canvass that I could paint over from time to time as I desired.
The answer is no—I never found that one. And thank God for that. I don’t think that one exists anymore, and I wouldn’t want it anyway. I have figured out that I would much rather be challenged, grow as a human being, and learn as much as I can about life, love, patience, honor, and gratitude. I let go of the idea of the one years ago. As a result of letting go of the one, I found the one. My wife is funny, smart, beautiful, talented, sexy, honest, loyal, and a real pain in the ass. And you know what? I’m a pain in the ass too. Who isn’t? As my friend Duff McKagan once said, “All people are nuts, so you might as well find the hottest one you can and learn to deal.”
I endorse that statement to a degree. My wife and I are nuts, but we deal and we have become the closest of lovers and friends. We weren’t born with the ability to know how to do this love thing. We weren’t even given the ability to know how to do this life thing. So, ultimately, if she leaves an empty Coke can on the coffee table, well, I suppose I can deal. [Not to be continued.]
part III THIS IS HOW WE DID IT BREAKING THE ICE
DAVE: So what made you get in touch with me in the first place?
CARMEN: Actually, it was weird, because your name was brought up through a friend. Actually, it was Dennis [Rodman].
DAVE: Really?!
CARMEN: Yeah, this was at the end of our relationship. Dennis and I were still friends, and he called me and said, “I know someone that wants to meet you.”
And I said, “Really, who?” You never know what to believe with Dennis. And he said, “My friends were at a record release party, and Dave Navarro was there and he wants to meet you.”
DAVE: Wow!
CARMEN: So it sparked a little curiosity. I remember saying, “Wow, he’s a good-looking guy!”
Then I remember Dennis saying, “Yeah, he’s your type.” So that planted a little seed in the back of my mind.
DAVE: What’s strange is that I only met Dennis one time at a Chili Peppers show, but your name never came up. I don’t think he had even met you yet.
CARMEN: I don’t think you said it to Dennis directly. You probably said it to someone he knew.
Anyway, some time went by. I was getting my hair done by a guy named Brandt, and the VH1 Behind the Music special on the Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. And I said, “Damn, he’s fine.” Those were my exact words.
Then Brandt said, “Oh my God, you guys would make the best couple. I’m friends with Dave. He’s actually broken up with his girlfriend right now; so he’s single.”
He wanted to call and set up a dinner for all of us. I was a little hesitant, because I’m the kind of girl who likes to be chased after. I’m not a chaser. I would never put myself out there to get played, because I’m just way too insecure.
Brandt and I then had a long talk about being single. I had been single for a while by that time. I had been doing some work on myself, and wanted to find the right person. But I wasn’t in a rush; I was going to let it happen.
So, as time passed, I started thinking about you more and seeing you in things. But I didn’t hear anything from Brandt. Eventually I saw him and he said, “I talked to Dave. He’s not into it.”
DAVE: It wasn’t that I wasn’t into it. I was into it, but I had just gotten out of my relationship with Adria. So I was too emotionally raw, and wasn’t ready to date anybody or put my heart on the line.
I didn’t know much about you. I knew you were beautiful, but I had never met you and I knew about Dennis. So I figured, here’s a girl with a wild persona coming along when I’m trying to recover from my wild period. I was basically fearful. So I declined.
I told Brandt, “You know what? That’s really sweet. Thank you for offering, but I’m going to have to say no to your offer.”
I had never been approached by a woman like that. I had never been contacted on behalf of somebody. And I kind of thought that is how Hollywood relationships happen. And then of course I thought, “Well, why haven’t I been called before by other Hollywood girls? What’s wrong with me?”
CARMEN: All the coincidences about Dennis and Brandt were weird. But when he told me you weren’t interested, I blew it off. I figured we weren’t meant to meet each other. Of course, I felt a little rejected, and I was a little bit mad at myself for putting myself in that position. I felt really stupid.
So about a year went by, and I was shopping on Melrose. I went into a store and a girl there mentioned something about the Chili Peppers getting back together and you were going to play guitar.
DAVE: It was Jane’s Addiction.
CARMEN: That’s right, it was Jane’s Addiction.
DAVE: I love that you don’t know all the history and you don’t give a shit. You’ll ask, “Who did that dog-barking song?”
CARMEN: That “Jane Says” song is the only one I know.
DAVE: Just like Angelyne.
CARMEN: So when the girl in the shop mentioned your name, I said, “He’s so hot.” And she said, “Oh, my girlfriend knows him really well. Do you want to meet him?”
I said, “No, absolutely not. He’s not interested.”
And she said, “No, no. I’ll call.”
And I begged, “Please don’t. I’m going to be so embarrassed. I’m going to look like some stalker.”
She promised me that she wouldn’t say anything. And she broke her promise. But I guess you were into it this time.
DAVE: I was into it. I was playing poker down at the Commerce Casino, and I got a call on my cell phone from this girl Taylor, who’s friends with Amanda, the girl from the store. And Taylor said, “I was talking to Carmen and your name came up. She’d like to meet you. Would you be interested in going on a date with her?”
And I said, “I would love to.”
At this point, it was a year later, and I had been single the whole time. I had always been interested, but before I wasn’t ready. This was going to be my first blind date, so I was freaking out.
CARMEN: It was mine too!
DAVE: I didn’t know what to expect. I honestly thought you were like six foot five, and would like get drunk and dance on the tables. I thought you were a screamer. I just had my idea of Dennis, and then put it into a girl.
THE BLIND DATE
DAVE: So I set up a time to meet you at Jones Restaurant in Hollywood for dinner. I was so excited and nervous that I showed up early. The maitre d’ took me to the biggest table in the place. I’m sitting at one end and there were like six empty seats. About fifteen minutes later five girls walked in: you and like four of your best friends. You were like this little bunny wrapped up in fur. You were so petite and quiet and sweet and just beautiful. The second I saw you, I was just sunk. But I was also totally uncomfortable because I’d never met any of your friends before, and it felt like they were basically there to check me out and take notes.
CARMEN: I brought them because I was scared. I had never done anything like this before. I remember pulling up in the car and looking at the clock. I was on time, and I was so afraid that I
would be the first one there that I drove around the block a couple of times. So I walked in like five or ten minutes late. I wasn’t expecting you to be there. But there you were, on time.
DAVE: I was on time, but I was petrified.
CARMEN: I assumed you would have some friends with you, but you were all alone.
DAVE: What I did to get over the uncomfortableness is that I directed my attention to your friends right away. “Hey, you look great … Nice to meet you … What do you do? … Great.” But when you and I started chatting, everyone else just disappeared. I liken it to the scene in the film of West Side Story when Tony and Maria are at the dance and all the other people in the room go out of focus. I didn’t even notice we were with anybody after that.
CARMEN: We immediately started discussing our moms. We really connected right away.
DAVE: I don’t know how it happened, but we got into the fact that we had suffered losses in our family. It was really real. [Note: Dave uses the exact word—“real”—that he made fun of the Baywatch blond in September for using to describe her relationship.]
CARMEN: It’s weird because I almost felt like I knew you. Though you lived your life completely opposite to the way I lived my life, the thing I could relate to was being in so much pain, and not knowing what to do with it.
DAVE: I definitely relate to you on those levels. You lost your mom to brain cancer, and I lost my mom. We’ve both just had—
CARMEN:—we’ve had a lot of tragedy.
DAVE: After Jones we went to Cherry, which is like a half-gay, half-glam club. It was very uncomfortable, because I’m not used to people coming up to me based on who I’m hanging out with.