Meat Loaf -- The Schaffeld Way

Four generations of Pete & Barb Schaffeld's Family don red scarves for Meat Loaf concert

By Vickie Schaffeld Holbrook

The day before the long-awaited Meat Loaf concert in Eagle, I asked Phil, a co-worker and fan, via email: “OK, what’s the deal? I need a red scarf?”

Phil: “I'm sure if The Loaf looked out into the crowd and saw you with one, he'd be honored.”

Four hours before the concert I dashed to the fabric store and found a red silky fabric.

“I need 12 times 5 inches. Let’s go with 2.5 yards. That should be enough,” I rattled off as I ran Meat Loaf lyrics through my mind, rocking my muscles to the beat.

As my sister Bev’s rig blared out Meat Loaf music in the dusty parking lot and we shared a pre-concert beer, I passed out red scarves to our 12-person group and we posed for a family photo.

Flash back to the 1970s

Pete and Barbara Schaffeld had four children, starting with me, the oldest, Bev, Mike and Ron. We had a dairy in the small community of Willowcreek (11 miles north of Vale, Ore.) and we milked cows to great music: Elton John, John Denver, Kris Kristofferson; Rod Stewart, Billy Joel, Joan Baez and yes, Meat Loaf.

Meat Loaf's Bat Out of Hell album was released in 1977.

We couldn’t really afford the new albums, and I remember how it was a treat when our mother, Barbara, brought home a new one. She always took the time to read through the words and understand the deep meaning woven into the lyrics. Speaker wires were strung from the house to the barn, and vinyl albums were stacked and ready to play as soon as the cows were corralled and ready for milking.

Day after day that music got us through the chores. We’d croon and dance with only black and white bovines – with bulging pink udders – in our audience. 

That same music kept us company as the Schaffeld kids moved onto college. I started at Oregon State University in Corvallis in 1974, and Bev followed the next year. The 400-mile trips from Vale to Corvallis or Eugene – brother Mike went to University of Oregon – were frequent.

In 1975, I heard Elton John would perform in Portland. Elton John was rocking the world with his music, sequined clothing, glittered platform shoes and big glasses.

Tickets sold out before I even heard about the concert so I combed the classifieds for ticket scalpers and called Mom. She made the 400-mile trip, picked up Bev – not really a fan of the Rocket Man but happy to go because she was so homesick – and me in Corvallis and we headed to our first “big city” concert.

With two daughters in college, a 1,000-mile round trip to Corvallis, Portland and back to Vale – and three scalped concert tickets -- was expensive, and Dad thought Mom was crazy. He wasn’t happy. But Mom did it anyway with no regrets.

Flash forward to the late 1990s

As we each married and our children grew older, Grandma Barb passed her love for good music onto her grandchildren. Never mind the generation gap … her favorites, including Meat Loaf’s “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” became favorites for grandchildren Alisha, Dan, Greg, Jeff, Karen, Scott and Tiffany.

After all, it was fun, but also a great “sex” education lesson. I never missed a chance to play the 8-minute ballad on a road trip, especially if my sons’ friends were in the car, too.

“If you ever think about having sex, just remember you’ll “be waiting for the end of time,” I’d warn them as they giggled from the back seat.

That Elton John concert was the first of many. Dad didn’t care for them, so Mom continued to share her love for music, taking one grandchild at a time to different concerts, creating lasting memories. Dad always smiled when the kids came home and talked about the fun and the restaurants they chose. Mom continued even after Dad died in 1997.
But let me be clear about Dad. He understood how important the music was. In fact, Mom tells a story about a person who came to the door when the music was blaring. Dad answered the door and apologized for the loud noise. "This is the way it is here. Music is important here."
And once, Dad bought Mom a record ... Merle Haggard's Okie from Muskogee ... needless to say, it wasn't played much.

The third generation

In 2000, Bev’s son Dan enrolled at University of Oregon and sister Karen was recruited to play basketball at Oregon State University. The road trips resumed and the music played on. During basketball season, I often joined my sister, her husband and “Grandma Barb” for a long weekend of games. Our post-Christmas trips between 2002 and 2006 were the most memorable.

We’d all stay at Dan’s house in Eugene, Karen’s in Corvallis or on the coast. We tackled projects and watched basketball games. My youngest son, Scott, made the trip a couple of times, too.

And new traditions were born.

We pulled out Scrabble, cranked up the stereo and popped open the beer. It was hard to outscore Grandma Barb. Eventually, few empty beer bottles (or a hairbrush) transformed into microphones, and we all became rock stars as soon as the first few chords of “Paradise” streamed from the boom box.

When it was announced in 2003 that Meat Loaf was coming to Boise, we had 22 family members ready to attend, including Grandma Barb. Sadly, the rock star’s health wasn’t good. The concert was canceled and money refunded.

We were very disappointed but we share our Meat Loaf talent at “grandchild” weddings. Guests circle around the Schaffeld clan to sing along as we perform our rendition of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” with the aid of our “beer microphones.

With each grandchild’s wedding the rendition gets better. We steal the DJ’s microphone and pass it among our group because most of us know the words.

We took over the floor at Cowgirls in Kuna after finally convincing local radio DJ KeKe Love that, yes, “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” had to be played for Karen’s 2011 bachelorette party even though the bar features country music. Nearly 10 minutes later the shocked, but very impressed, KISS 103 disc jockey retrieved his microphone and said to his radio listeners that what he had just witnessed was one of the best things that ever happened at Cowgirls.

A disc jockey thought we were crazy to play a Meat Loaf song at Scott and Laci’s 2011 wedding reception in Dillon, Mont. After all, that’s real cowboy country. But we talked it up so much that he videoed the performance to share with other bridal parties. He was stunned and wedding guests said they loved it.

When I heard the announcement that Meat Loaf was coming to Eagle July 2, I spread the word. Soon, three generations knew about the concerts and tickets were purchased. This time, just 12 family members could attend because time scatters family members to California, Seattle and Montana. And a debilitating stroke has sidelined my mother, Grandma Barb.

As our anticipation for the concert built, so did our hopes Bev’s son, Dan Vickery, an HGTV’s Design Star finalist, could alert Meat Loaf that the Schaffeld family would be in crowd. Not just a pipe dream. Dan actually spent time in Meat’s home working a couple years ago doing a post-Design Star project with a fellow contestant. But Dan couldn’t make the connection.

Peter McBride, son of Alisha and Toby McBride, waves his scarf.

 7:53 p.m. July 2

When Meat Loaf stepped onto the Eagle River Pavilion stage, I fought back tears. I realized the years and generations of memories, started with my mother’s love for music, were much bigger than the 64-year-old performer on stage.

It wasn’t all about Meat Loaf. It was never about Meat Loaf.

His music was the conduit that has strengthened our family ties, traditions and memories.

It may have started with Mom when she bought those albums in the 70s and 80s but Dad played a big part in making those memories, our youngest brother, Ron, pointed out as Meat Loaf belted out his first song. Ron’s own teenage sons, Jacob and Jonah, were part of our group decked out in red scarves. And so was 8-year-old Peter, the second of four great grandchildren.

And I think Papa Pete used a little of his heavenly influence to get his own name sake at the concert when the coin was tossed earlier that day, deciding what member of the fourth generation would have the honor to go in place of his mother, Alisha.

Papa Pete never claimed or pretended to like the music Mom chose. But he always reveled in the fun.

The red scarves

It took me a few minutes to see the significance of the red scarf. It was tied to the microphone stand, blowing in the fan-forced breeze.

The second, third and fourth generations of the Pete and Barbara Schaffeld clan waved its collective red scarf at Meat Loaf throughout the 2-hour performance. Frankly, we were probably obnoxious. But it paid off when the performer spotted our red scarves and gave our group some personal eye-to-eye contact as he pointed to us.

Even my friend Phil, who sat behind our family, told me that he noticed Meat Loaf pointing to us and our scarves.

I think “the Loaf” was “honored” when he saw our red scarves. Thanks Phil for that advice.

If only Meat Loaf knew the story and the four generations of fans that started with Barbara 35 years ago when “Bat of Hell,” was released!

Vickie Schaffeld Holbrook is the oldest daughter of the Pete and Barbara Schaffeld and the managing editor of the Idaho Press-Tribune in Nampa, ID. She can be reached at vholbrook@idahopress.com or vickieschaffeldholbrook@gmail.com.

Here’s Alisha’s blog post about Peter going to the Meat Loaf Concert: http://mcbridefamilyadventures.blogspot.com/2012/07/peters-first-concert-meat-loaf.html

Read more about Meat Loaf here.