Jian ghomeshi dating
We stopped at his car, a tiny vintage pastel-green sports coupe.And then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, he said, “I’m going to this orgy tonight, do you want to come? I’d learn later that even Jian’s apparent lack of a filter was carefully calibrated for maximum effect. tour and Jian would write me long, tortured emails from the road, asking for career and dating advice.At the time I met them, in a café on the Danforth, they were selling out mid-size venues filled with NDP supporters in itchy Ecuadorian sweaters. Jian, the band’s drummer and singer, was a weedy-looking guy, about a decade my senior, with a penchant for winking after his jokes.I spent an amiable hour with the band, listening to enthusiastic and semi-delusional talk of their enormous Grateful Dead–style following and imminent U. He went out of his way to weave an odd mix of earnest liberal values and sexual innuendo into the conversation, referring to the band’s “pinko politics” and then telling me the story of his new favourite “superfan”—an exotic dancer named Moxy who stripped to their song “Michigan Militia” in a combat outfit.He was self-involved in a way that would have been insufferable—one of those people who drone on at the party about their own tedious existential struggles—if he hadn’t also been so culturally literate and charismatic.Also, he spent quite a bit of time buttering me up.I knew him to be a charming, if temperamental, narcissist who desperately wanted to be adored—and he was, until it all came crashing down.
His TV music show, , had recently been cancelled by the CBC, and he was very put out about it. He quickly lost control of the debate and let one guest steamroll all the others—a rookie error even I, as a fledgling journalist, could recognize.I visited him a couple of times in Cabbagetown and he was rather house proud, pointing out new pieces of expensive furniture, the gleaming wood floors and his collection of Persian rugs. He’s often spoken of feeling like an outsider because of his Iranian background, and I believe that being born on the fringes of the dominant Canadian culture fuelled his ambition. I didn’t have much to show for myself back in my 20s, but I did have a column in the country’s most respected newspaper.For Jian, a self-conscious immigrant kid who’d grown up feeling like a nerd and dreaming of David Bowie, that kind of status mattered more than anything.” I don’t recall actually saying no, only both of us bursting into laughter as though the whole suggestion had been a big joke. Long before he was a household name in Canada, he was a master of calculating what other people wanted and presenting them with it—so long as it didn’t conflict with his own ever-pressing desires. Although I can’t recall the specifics now, I remember that the emails went on and on and were full of unfulfilled longing, which would prove to be a perpetual theme for Jian.After that first meeting I didn’t see Jian for several months, but we kept in touch. He always seemed in desperate need of something just out reach—engaged in a never-ending quest to find the balm for his restless soul.
For all his weirdness, Jian was excellent at making connections.