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I know some of you might find it a little ridiculous, but I'm a huge Meat Loaf fan. And I'm not talking about the thing your mother ruins on a semi-monthly basis. Well, my mother doesn't. Her meatloaf is delicious. Especially topped with Worcestershire sauce. Mmm.
I'm talking about the singer Meat Loaf, with Steinmann. (Steinman? Steimann? Does anyone ever really remember the guy on the piano?) Which is crazy because the music was considered old before I was even born. But there's something about his vocals against Jim Steinman's awesome song writing abilities that makes me so happy.
It's also crazy because I only have three of his albums (Bat out of Hell, Dead Ringer for Love, and Bat out of Hell III: The Monster is Loose), and that my love for his music was based entirely on Bat out of Hell. And I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That). (Has anyone figured out what he won't do? I sure haven't.)
ANYWAY- the point of this story is that I have a raging metaphorical hardon for Meat Loaf's music and that it can sometimes be a little embarrassing. And that the albums I do have I play a lot and can listen to them over and over and over again. Not only do I listen to them a lot, but I sing along with them every single time.
It's very surreal drive in to Chorale practice singing along with Meat Loaf, go into Chorale and sing Schubert's Mass in G, and then go out and start caterwauling to Paradise By the Dashboard Light on the way home. Very, very surreal. And a lot of fun. I love the look on the other Chorale members when I bust out with "Ain't no doubt about it/we were doubly blessed/cuz we were barely seventeen and barely dressed..."
That's not the embarrassing thing. The embarrassing thing happened today as I got out of the car once I got home from work. I was currently listening to and singing along with More than You Deserve and as I climbed out of the car belting out "Why don't you take some more, it's what you came for/And don't mind me, I won't throw you no curves/C'mon and have yourself a ball with my good woman/Won't you take some more boy, it's more than you deserve?"
And there sits the next door neighbor's son *coughjailbaitcough* fiddling with some sort of dune buggy thing, staring at me like I've lost my mind. Which I have, but that so isn't the point. The point is that when I spotted him, I cut off mid-lyric and squeaked. And turned red. But the real embarrassing thing was this high-pitched SQUEAK that came out of my mouth like I'm some sort of rodent. GAH.
Then he said, "Very good." and clapped a little.
Wish I had the presence of mind to just laugh it off with, "Thank you, thank you, I'm here all week. Literally." I just fled instead.
I'm talking about the singer Meat Loaf, with Steinmann. (Steinman? Steimann? Does anyone ever really remember the guy on the piano?) Which is crazy because the music was considered old before I was even born. But there's something about his vocals against Jim Steinman's awesome song writing abilities that makes me so happy.
It's also crazy because I only have three of his albums (Bat out of Hell, Dead Ringer for Love, and Bat out of Hell III: The Monster is Loose), and that my love for his music was based entirely on Bat out of Hell. And I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That). (Has anyone figured out what he won't do? I sure haven't.)
ANYWAY- the point of this story is that I have a raging metaphorical hardon for Meat Loaf's music and that it can sometimes be a little embarrassing. And that the albums I do have I play a lot and can listen to them over and over and over again. Not only do I listen to them a lot, but I sing along with them every single time.
It's very surreal drive in to Chorale practice singing along with Meat Loaf, go into Chorale and sing Schubert's Mass in G, and then go out and start caterwauling to Paradise By the Dashboard Light on the way home. Very, very surreal. And a lot of fun. I love the look on the other Chorale members when I bust out with "Ain't no doubt about it/we were doubly blessed/cuz we were barely seventeen and barely dressed..."
That's not the embarrassing thing. The embarrassing thing happened today as I got out of the car once I got home from work. I was currently listening to and singing along with More than You Deserve and as I climbed out of the car belting out "Why don't you take some more, it's what you came for/And don't mind me, I won't throw you no curves/C'mon and have yourself a ball with my good woman/Won't you take some more boy, it's more than you deserve?"
And there sits the next door neighbor's son *coughjailbaitcough* fiddling with some sort of dune buggy thing, staring at me like I've lost my mind. Which I have, but that so isn't the point. The point is that when I spotted him, I cut off mid-lyric and squeaked. And turned red. But the real embarrassing thing was this high-pitched SQUEAK that came out of my mouth like I'm some sort of rodent. GAH.
Then he said, "Very good." and clapped a little.
Wish I had the presence of mind to just laugh it off with, "Thank you, thank you, I'm here all week. Literally." I just fled instead.
