Living loud and large lends itself to eccentricities| MARK HUGHES COBB

Some seem to be confused about what Meat Loaf swore he wouldn't do, and OK, Jim Steinman's syntax could twist toward the oblique, but still, it's all in the song.

The song being "I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)," written by Steinman for Marvin Lee Aday, in his stage persona as everyone's second-favorite "It was this or stew" leftover whip-up, in case that wasn't crystal.

Lyrics that precede the statement "No, I won't do that":

I'll never forget the way you feel right now.

I'll never forgive myself if we don't go all the way tonight.

I'll never do it better then I do it with you.

I'll never stop dreaming of you every night of my life.

After a while to forget everything/It was a brief interlude and a midsummer night's fling/And you'll see that it's time to move on.

It'll all turn to dust/And we'll all fall down/And sooner or later you'll be screwing around.

So Meat Loaf will not:

1. Forget the way you feel right now.

2. Forgive himself if you don't see Paradise by the dashboard light, this evening.

3. Do it better than he does it with you.

4. Stop dreaming of you.

5. See that it's time to move on.

6. Sooner or later be screwing around.

Couple of folks posted, a day or two after his death, the story shared by TMZ and others, that Meat Loaf had been anti-vaccine mandate, and had possibly died from COVID-19. The slabs of schadenfreude layered on those shares felt ugly and unnecessary. So a theatrical actor and rock singer suffered wild and unhealthy ideas that didn't follow sound scientific and medical advice?

Truly, I'm shocked.

Next thing you'll be telling me Keith Richards drinks a bit, that Elvis abused pills, and Keith Moon tested gravity via hotel-room TVs and swimming pools.

Self-destructive behaviors don't necessarily go hand-in-hand with the rock-star life, but the mostly-healthy don't make for good copy. Aside from struggling to hit the high notes, at 77, Roger Daltrey, Moonie's old lead singer, looks like he could run with Arsenal, his favored football team. Another double-seven rocker, Rod Stewart, once tried out for a pro football unit, and despite not being called onto the roster, has maintained his youthfully lean physique. At concerts, he often kicks souvenir soccer — sorry, I tried "football" twice — balls into crowds, showing real leg.

Joan Jett, despite what her tough onstage persona might suggest, is a non-smoking, non-drinking vegetarian. At 63, she's the same lean muscular kid as when she broke through with The Runaways. Fellow musician-vegans such as Lenny Kravitz, 57, never seem to age. Jersey boys like Bruce Springsteen, 72, and Jon Bon Jovi, 59, run miles, lift weights, stay away from heavy drugs, all that positive jazz, and again, remain wearing the same size jeans they've sported since their respective youths.

That's not suggesting they're perfect. Both Daltrey and Stewart have suffered throat issues, possibly related to the profession. Bruce deals with depression, an affliction he shared with his late father; until his 30s, around "Born in the USA," he ate so much junk food he often felt sick after a gig. Bon Jovi kicked drug addictions. And both Stewart and Daltrey fathered eight children each, by several different women, which feels a bit outside the norm. As Bruce sang it:

"At first I thought it was just restlessness/That would fade as time went by and our love grew deep/In the end it was something more I guess."

Bruce worked through a starter marriage, but has stuck with his second wife, Patti Scialfa, mother of their three children, since the late '80s. Bon Jovi married his high school sweetheart, Dorothea Hurley, about the same time; they've raised four kids. Maybe it's the Jersey thing, raised working-class, but both devote considerable time, effort and money toward charitable works.

Bo-ring.

For others, stardom seems to warp their horizons.

Mark Ruffalo, everyone's favorite gentle-natured Avenger, thinks 9/11 was a conspiracy. He was quoted saying "My first reaction was that buildings don't fall down like that. I've done quite a bit of my (Editor's note: Don't say it, dude. Don't. Just don't) own research," dangitall, he said it. Despite being a full-time actor, he's somehow found the time to become a physics expert. Perhaps Ruffalo's gotten confused with his Bruce Banner character, a brainy and science-y guy.

Vince Vaughn thinks guns should be rife in schools, or pretty much anywhere, really. He's one of those who believes more people with guns would stop other people with guns, despite all police-study and real-life evidence to the contrary.

Megan Fox frees Britney while aloft because "I know for a fact it’s not in my destiny to die listening to a Britney Spears album, so I always put that on in my headphones when I’m flying because I know it won’t crash....” Maybe 9/11 needed more Britney.

Axl Rose believes the letter M is cursed. Joan Rivers once hired a voodoo priestess to exorcise her apartment. Jenny McCarthy is heavily responsible for spreading the thoroughly-debunked notion that vaccines cause autism.

Charlie Sheen thinks he almost caught the Loch Ness monster once, using a baited leg of lamb. Nicolas Cage bid $276,000 for a dinosaur skull. Mike Tyson spent $2.2 million on a solid-gold bathtub. Evan Rachel Wood keeps minerals and herbs on hand to purge spaces of demons. Lady Gaga thinks a ghost named Ryan haunts her, so she paid $50,000 for an electromagnetic field meter, the better to detect poltergeists. Maybe she should loan that to Kesha, who believes her actual body is haunted.

This is just skimming, leaving out extreme examples that may actually be signs of serious mental illness, because Kanye really compile a list of wild celebrity beliefs without mentioning the one who thinks he's a literal god?

So not taking the best care of one's health, while foolhardy and dangerous, isn't really outside the realm of gullibility. It's sad, of course, when another life gets checked off early because the person refused easily available treatment, but ultimately, unless you're infecting others, that's your own roll of the dice. Yes, their outsized-platform statements could influence others, but that's free will, folks. You can chose to hear science, and ignore hearsay and gossip, but certainly no one can force you to be smart.

Meat Loaf was a big guy, and that's not a body-shaming crack: I'm talking about presence, the epic bravado often dubbed "operatic." Both he and collaborator Steinman grew up theater kids. Aday performed in on- and off-Broadway productions of "Hair," in a Shakespeare in the Park production of "As You Like It," and the original Broadway run of "The Rocky Horror Show," which of course led to the ultimate cult movie.

Steinman wrote rock musicals, adapting plays by Bertolt Brecht and Alfred Jarry, and had works commissioned by Shakespeare in the Park founder Joe Papp. His song cycle that became "Bat Out of Hell" — that 1977 disc sold 43 million copies — was originally conceived as a musical loosely based on "Peter Pan." Steinman claimed influences ranging from Wagner to Bruce to Roger and Moonie's old band, none of them averse to theatricality.

How much of this eccentric business is merely show? Maybe Rob Lowe didn't really stumble across Bigfoot. Perhaps Nic Cage needed that octopus for companionship. Probably Gaga doesn't truly think that sex with others drains her creativity.

Could be just whimsy, the pressure to cook up an amusing anecdote for a late-night chat show, or yet another glittering facet of stardom, of being continually on display. As Douglas Adams taught us: Mostly harmless.

So scorning a deceased person, one who entertained, giving pleasure to masses, after his beliefs (allegedly) proved dangerously consequential, but only to himself?

Nah, I won't do that.

Reach Tusk Editor Mark Hughes Cobb at mark.cobb@tuscaloosanews.com, or call 205-722-0201.

This article originally appeared on The Tuscaloosa News: Living loud and large lends itself to eccentricities| MARK HUGHES COBB