[Dear_Trent_#_23]

Dear Trent,

Oh, Sparklepants! Is Le Tour getting to you?

I can only imagine how deeply frustrating all the acts of God with which you keep getting hit have become by now, not to mention life's millions of vexations, the sudden arrival of bad news, and the stupid side of your job as a (RAWR!) rock star, which has to wear thin some days for an adult man with a brain.

Everytime I hear about more tour dates, I worry about you a little bit. I guess after 10 years of worrying about a guy who seriously looked like he was digging his own grave by the end of every outing, it's a hard habit to break. I hope your strength is holding up, that you have people with you who love you, and that you are taking care of your dear self.

I don't really know you, so I don't know how truly your spirits are flagging, or how real your crises of confidence are, but I do think you've never seemed more courageous than you do now, taking the reigns of this huge beast of a thing with full consciousness and stepping out into the world to present your work with diligence and a clear head. I love your intentions. I love your need to make everything you do real and true. I love your committment to your own work, and your enormous generosity as a performer. I love that you're trying to deliver "the goods" and be truthful at the same time. You're a rare creature in your field, and it's fucking beautiful.

I wouldn't presume to give you advice, Trent, it's obvious that you know what you're doing, and God knows you're doing a bang-up job, but I keep reading your interviews where you say things like, that "the artist" in you wants to just play the new record, or that you admire David Bowie for doing exactly what his muse dictates whether or not it tanks, or that you're thinking of a solo piano tour in diametric opposition to the dinosaur rawk circus you're fronting nowadays, or that you're writing new songs, and touring isn't as rewarding as it was -- it's all execution and monotony -- and you'd rather be in the studio, doing the work that truly engages you now. I love reading that stuff, because it gives me faith that even if, sometimes, it seems like you must give inordinate consideration to the business end of this whole rock firegod thing, underneath it all is the devoted heart of the artist I love.

Do you wonder if we would follow you down those paths? Dear, dear Trent! Wonder no more: WE WILL. Maybe not every last fucking one of us. You might lose a few of the youngsters screaming "WHOOOO!", but you won't ever lose those of us who have been hearing you for years. I know there are a lot of people out there who want to see you tear it up like in the days of yore, but there are also those of us who are paying our money to be surprised and challenged by what's in you, not to have our nostalgic, preconceived expectations met. As I've said before, I'm not only ready and willing, but positively on the edge of my fucking seat to hear whatever you're playing, however you want to play it. As long as you're doing what's vital to you, I know it will be loaded with your undeniable aesthetic potentcy, and exactly what I'd hoped to hear.

If this is all a bunch of retarded stuff to say, I'm sorry for being the hyper-romatic gusher I know I am. I'm just trying to tell you, seriously, that you are not just loved, but adored, for real reasons -- reasons other than the fact of your nuclear weapons grade hotness -- by the people who hear you. I know I'm only one in about 7 million girls who are constantly declaring their undying love for you, but as dumb as everyone seems to think it is to feel sincere emotion for a big fat rock star in sparkly pants whom I've never met, I can't help it, and I 'd rather be sincere than cool.

Also, OBVIOUSLY, I love you way more than the rest of those bitches.

Love,
Dierdre