Did I Say That?

Lying liars and the lies they lie about

Depending on what "truth" you choose to believe, today is Meat Loaf's 55th or 59th birthday.

I'll start at the beginning. Says Meat Loaf in his 1999 autobiography To Hell and Back †, I was born on September 27, 1947, at Baylor Hospital in Dallas, Texas. There's not a lot of room for discussion there. Or is there? In interviews, Mr. Loaf claims to be born in '51. In an interview with Lynn Barber of The Observer in 2003, he clears things up:

I asked which was correct [1947 or 1951] and he said, 1951. I have it on my passport and driving licence. So why did he say 1947 in his autobiography? Because I just wanted to maintain a constant lie. I was born in 1951 but see what a great thing it is, because everybody asks me? And I can keep it up - I can tell you I was really born in 1952. What would be the point? Because names and ages piss me off. So I just continually lie.

In Wikipedia's article on Age Fabrication it says, Considering that [Meat Loaf] moved to Los Angeles in 1967 and worked as a bouncer in a bar, and assuming he did so legally, it seems more likely that 1947 is correct. That seems like a logical deduction, but let's do some fact-checking with that highly reliable autobiography, shall we?

1. He moved to LA in the spring 1967 (p73–74)
2. He has worked as a bouncer in a nightclub (p76)
3. He was a minor at the time (p77)
4. He was back in LA in late 1967, where he recorded some songs with Rick Bozzo in early 1968. (p83–84)

So, taking a leap of faith that he's only lying in the book about his age, one must conclude that he was an adult in '67. That means he can't be born in '51, so he must be born in 1947. Unless he's not, and he's lying. But only about his age. Continually.

Not that I really care: I'm only in it for the music.

Happy 59th birthday, Mr. Loaf.

† Meat Loaf with David Dalton, To Hell and Back 1st edition hard cover, New York: Harper-Collins, 1999 (ISBN 0-06-039293-2)

Ahoy, me hearties

Yeah I know what I said, but while I was busy making other plans, life happened.

Yarr.

How many times…

…can your plans for the same day change? Four, so far. Oh well, so I'm off to Nieuwkoop later this morning. Unless the plans change again.

Can blog, clowns won't eat me

So I'm back from Antwerp. Walked around a lot, shopped around a bit, finished a book, started in another, finished that one too, started in yet another book, visited some churches, a museum, the zoo, and I went to see two movies. (The Sentinel is at best an entertaining cliché-fest, while I thought that Ask the Dust was actually pretty good.) And I took some pretty pictures.

Now that you're all up to date, we can return to the regular programming of this blog. Which in the coming days shall have to include a write-up of two books I've read. Plus that I'll have to make a demand: so what if next tuesday, the 19th, is the third of September. It's International Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day and Her Majesty would be wise to honour that fine tradition. Yarr.

Can't blog, clowns'll eat me

Yes, I'm back. No, can't talk. Gotta run.

Gone in sixty minutes

As some of you might now, I'm having a bit of holiday. Two weeks of not doing much. Yay. In about an hour, I'll be turning off my computer, and I'm planning not to touch one before I'm back from Antwerp again.