His friends call him Meat!

Liberty Belle mentioned Meatloaf in her last post, so I get to tell of my brush with greatness (or, at least, Meat-ness)...

One of my favorite personal stories from my medical school days was the celebrity softball tournament organized by Barbara Mandrell to raise money for the then-new transplant program at Vanderbilt (headed by future Senator Bill Frist).

Barbara wanted the visiting celebs to know as much as they could about the program from knowledgeable people in the field, and arranged for medical students, nurses, and others to serve as chauffeurs for the weekend. I, of course, volunteered, and I still remember being in the classroom the day that the "drawing" occurred to match chauffeurs to celebrities. When Sheena Easton's name came up, the testosterone level in the air became measurable. My classmate, Roy Erb, drew the long lot. Another much-anticipated celeb was Wonder Woman herself - a bit older, but still a babe. I don't remember who got Lynda Carter, but it wasn't I. No, I got Meatloaf!

I went out to the airport at the appointed time and picked up Meatloaf and his wife. He was what I expected: paunchy, with long, straggly hair and casual dress. His wife looked like a groupie: kind of mousy, wearing a concert tour T-shirt. She informed me that her husband's friends called him Meat, so that was how I should address him. I put his golf clubs in the trunk, which gave me an opening for the in-car conversation. He told me that he was an avid golfer and was leaving after the tournament to go to Scotland to play St. Andrews. End of story. He was pretty tight-lipped, and the conversation was clipped and difficult. His wife was obviously becoming embarrassed by his lack of communication, and would often take over, filling out his very short answers. If I remember correctly, she had some connection to the Philadelphia area, so we talked about that a bit. I got a bit miffed when I asked him about how he got Phil Rizzuto to do the voice-over in Paradise by the Dashboard Light; he curtly answered: "It's like anything else - I asked him".

That's when she implored him to "tell the story". I didn't see it in the rearview mirror, but I suspect that she elbowed him in the ribs. He then got considerably more talkative, and told me that Rizzuto was looking to raise his profile after some down time with the Yankees. He just wanted assurances that this wasn't about drugs in any way, and once reassured, agreed to do it. I didn't ask if Scooter "got" the sexual double-entendre of his script or not. Then the Meat man opened up, and we talked until we reached the Loews Vanderbilt Plaza on West End.

At the hotel, there were all sorts of celebs hanging out, and I was a little put off that I had to drop him off and return the car without having the chance to mingle. That was my only contact with Mr. and Mrs. Loaf until it was time to bring them back to the airport for their departing flight. I remember waiting in the car in front of the hotel and seeing Erma Bombeck waiting with her husband. Obviously, Erma's appeal was not the same as Lynda Carter's or Sheena Easton's, but I am still mad at myself for not having gotten out and greeted her. Believe it or not, as a teenager, I had read one of her columns in the Philadelphia Bulletin, clipped it out, and posted it on my bedroom wall. As I recall, it was about not being so concerned with housework as to forget what's really important, written in her humorous style. Teenage boys were not her target audience, but I read her, and that column resonated with me. I wanted to tell her about it, and thank her for it, but I stayed in the car. Not too long thereafter, she passed away, and I felt guilty for not having spoken to her.

Meat and the wife got into the car as the bell hop placed his bags in the trunk. We drove out to the airport, where I saw Sheena Easton. What a disappointment! I thought that she was a mega-babe, but in person she was short, her skin was pale and unattractively freckled, her hair looked short and butchered, and she was uncommunicative behind sunglasses. I later learned that she wouldn't even talk to my friend Roy, only answering yes or no, and letting her mother handle the small talk. Worst of all, she either didn't tip or gave my pal only $5 or so. As I helped the Loafs (Loaves?) get their bags out of the car, Meat dropped me a $20 bill. Now I really liked the Meat Man! Not enough to buy an album or anything, but enough to smile when I see him on TV or hear him on the radio and reminisce about that day in the spring of 1988.

Post script: I found this link which states: On June 3, 1988 Lynda made an appearance on the "Barbara Mandrell Celebrity Softball Classic", along with Bob Hope, Sheena Easton, Roy Acuff, Dick Clark, Morgan Fairchild, Ralph Emery, Ahmad Rashad, Gladys Knight, Patrick Duffy, David Keith, Irlene Mandrell, Emmanuel Lewis, Keisha Knight-Pulliam, Louise Mandrell, Ray "Boom Boom" Mancini, Lynn Swann, Danny White, Chuck Norris, Oprah Winfrey, Betty White, Herschel Walker, Minnie Pearl, Chuck Woolery, Walter Payton, Erma Bombeck and The Statler Brothers. No mention of the Meat Man! For shame! And lest anyone think I am fabricating the Meatloaf angle, here is a link that lists him among those in attendance.