My Meat Loaf Story. It's not what you would expect.
Like most of the record-buying public, Bat Out of Hell became That Record You Heard Everywhere when it was released at the end of 1977. Hell, Yankees legend Phil Rizzuto was even on the thing, and it sold scrllions.
In 1982, my parents owned a roller rink and arcade, quite an amusing thing for a 14-year-old! One of the partners in the business, Pat, had a stepson he didn't always get along with. It was easy to see why; Pat and I both butted heads at the outset, probably due to his strict military background. However, as time went on, we ended up close. We worked at the rink together, and very well. We had some great talks. He gave me some souvenirs from places he'd been during World War II. I felt honored. I had both a father and grandfathers at the time, but Pat was kinda like another "dad". Then, one day, he told me that he wished I were his son(instead of his stepson, who could be a handful). It was, to this day, one of the biggest compliments I was ever paid.
It was early November. I was watching the then-new MTV after getting out of the shower. My brother burst into the room: Pat had unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack. I sat, nearly catatonic, for an hour until I turned off the TV and turned on the radio instead; I couldn't process the loss of a close friend. What was on? Meat Loaf's "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad". Something about the melody and chords just struck me.
I have not been able to listen to the song since. Just hearing that opening piano makes all the memories come flooding back. It was too much--probably my OCD is to blame--but I have successfully turned that song off every time I encountered it [i]for forty years[/i].
And so, in tribute to the singer on that track, I will finally listen to it, for the first time since 1982.
Meat, we miss you.
Pat, I miss you, too.
In 1982, my parents owned a roller rink and arcade, quite an amusing thing for a 14-year-old! One of the partners in the business, Pat, had a stepson he didn't always get along with. It was easy to see why; Pat and I both butted heads at the outset, probably due to his strict military background. However, as time went on, we ended up close. We worked at the rink together, and very well. We had some great talks. He gave me some souvenirs from places he'd been during World War II. I felt honored. I had both a father and grandfathers at the time, but Pat was kinda like another "dad". Then, one day, he told me that he wished I were his son(instead of his stepson, who could be a handful). It was, to this day, one of the biggest compliments I was ever paid.
It was early November. I was watching the then-new MTV after getting out of the shower. My brother burst into the room: Pat had unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack. I sat, nearly catatonic, for an hour until I turned off the TV and turned on the radio instead; I couldn't process the loss of a close friend. What was on? Meat Loaf's "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad". Something about the melody and chords just struck me.
I have not been able to listen to the song since. Just hearing that opening piano makes all the memories come flooding back. It was too much--probably my OCD is to blame--but I have successfully turned that song off every time I encountered it [i]for forty years[/i].
And so, in tribute to the singer on that track, I will finally listen to it, for the first time since 1982.
Meat, we miss you.
Pat, I miss you, too.
