That’s singer Michael Bolton, above. Last week, Center Street (a division of Hachette Book Group) published his long-awaited memoir, The Soul of It All, which details his rise from broke, pot-smoking, hard-rockin’ nobody to multi-platinum pop/R&B superstar, bedder of Hollywood starlets, and Friend of Bill Clinton. Of course, as long as Michael Bolton has been in the public eye, people have accused him of being devoid of soul. So here’s a few ways you might be able to determine if he, in fact, has soul.
You could ask a bunch of random people if he’s got soul, although that’s usually inconclusive:
You could ask a bunch of music critics, although that’s also usually inconclusive:
You could invite him over to your apartment to hang out with your pet armadillo, drink beers, and watch Old Yeller, and see if he cries when the dog gets shot:
You could slice him open with a chain saw and see if any soul spills out:
You could have a doctor weigh him, then have him drink some cyanide-laced water, and then after he dies, weigh him again (taking into account the water he just drank, of course) and see if he’s 21 grams lighter:
Or you could just take Michael Bolton’s word for it that he does, indeed, have soul: