Meat Loaf. Not the burger. The rocker.
I’ve muttered and sputtered because he flew from home in Nashville, Tenn., to see his recent off-Broadway musical “Bat Out of Hell” and stood me up three times. I now know why he stood me up. Standing up plus his mobility has been compromised.
He’s suffered two serious falls. Finally coming over for lunch, his walking was slow. A cane plus an associate along to help. He said:
“I fell off the stage in Dallas — the theater was in the Hyatt — and hurt my collarbone. Wrapped like a mummy, an ambulance took me to the hospital. I lost 70 pounds. I lived on Starbucks and cream cheese. For 12 days, the pain so bad they gave me drugs — but not the kind I once took before.”
A second fall followed. Cracked rib. Concussion. Now lawsuits.
“I’ve turned down six tours. It’s been a year and a half of misery. My last operation took seven hours. Listen, I’ve lived it all. I and my band on a double-decker bus, and playing live in the rain. Done it all.”
We’d never met before, but we share theatrical history. He starred in the ’70s stage and film’s “Rocky Horror Show.” Years later, in producer Jordan Roth’s B’way revival, I played its narrator.
We agreed about the show — not about my brunch — which he said “maybe cost $20.” Offended, I said my 2nd Avenue Deli charge was over $80 — and whatthehell’s anyone from Nashville know about high-class dining?
Through a spoonful of egg salad he said: “I’m in physical therapy. I’ve gone through bankruptcy so I have to work. I’m now planning a tour. Small arena. A storyteller kind of show.”
Meat was flying home for his wife’s birthday. And what’s Mr. Loaf giving her? “More shelves in the garage, and I’m building two cabinets with a hanging rod.”
Hey, beats St. Laurent.
Please try to pay attention
Beverly Hills. Rita Ora, Selena Gomez are getting Dr. Ehsan Ali’s vitamin drips. And Emilia Clarke: “‘Game of Thrones’ people told me, ‘Sit straight, don’t smile; you’re not funny.” And Moby celebrated Julie Mintz’s “Purple Rain/Million Reasons” single at the Sofitel.
Paris: Yellow-vested protesters who overtook the city and now seem to have calmed down? One local: “It’s starting again. It’s riot by appointment now. September will be worse. Barricades. Fires in stores. Scary stuff. Scary to go out.”
NYC: Yamaha’s selling 30 Lincoln Center pianos used by the Met for 80 years. World-class grands, baby grands, players, digitals, silents and what’s called professional studio types. Call them. Not me.
Indonesia: Centuries ago it was 10,000 disparate islands. The Dutch East Indies. In the ’40s Sukarno, its first president, brought it together. One country. One language. One red and white flag called “the Merah Putih.”
I lived there. I spent years in Sukarno’s palaces in Bali and the main island of Java, whose capital Jakarta is now sinking into the sea.
A recent December — one daughter’s my godchild, another the country’s recent president — Jakarta traffic congestion was such that a day in advance we had to leave nearby homes and check into a hotel near the ballroom or never reach there to celebrate New Year’s Eve.
I don’t know what’s happening to my city, my country, my world.
This weekend holiday isn’t just work — No: picnics — Yes: September’s first Monday, a yearly national tribute to our labor movement, America’s working force, is our 125th anniversary of Labor Day. Be grateful. Give thanks.
And not just only in New York, kids, not just only in New York.