May 8th, 2005
Down-to-earth reality belies star status
BY MELISSA RUGGIERI
It's edging toward 1 pm and Dave Matthews is sipping his first cup of coffee for the day. Cream, no sugar. Sipped, not guzzled. The natural assumption is that he's just stumbled out of bed, like a good rock star would. But, as Matthews wryly notes later, "My mom is more rock star than I am."
The reality is that he's been awake for hours, and he's spent time tending to his 3½-year-old twins, Stella and Grace.
"I forget to feed myself," he says, that one eyebrow involuntarily reaching toward his hairline. "I'm feeding my girls and dressing them and getting a bag ready because I know I have to take them to my mom's and we're running and playing and having quality time and I throw them in the car and drop them off and 'Thanks, Mom,' and I realize I haven't put anything in my stomach. I think I had a bite of their eggs, though."
Matthews, seated at a small table at the Starr Hill Brewery in Charlottesville, has just finished apologizing for the second time for being slightly tardy to this meeting. He really did have to take his kids to his mother's home in Scottsville, and offers more words of contrition than you would expect from a good friend, never mind one of the most famous musicians in the country.
But while a slew of other adjectives might have followed Matthews during his 15-year career, arrogant and pretentious usually aren't among them.
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