Fake It to the Limit

The incredible ten-year saga of Eagles impersonator Lewis Peter Morgan

Former Eagles member Randy Meisner, and mug shot of his imposter Lewis Peter Morgan.

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A quick recent headline revealed the Eagles have added more dates to their Sphere residency in Las Vegas, officially making them the artist performing the most shows in that venue. It reminds me of a story I once did, years ago, about a conman who spent a full decade impersonating Eagles bassist Randy Meisner. It was fascinating. I interviewed the guy in jail, as well as the investigative cop. I talked with a number of people he fleeced, including women, casinos, and music gear companies. Meisner himself was too shy to talk about it, but Eagles management were very helpful off the record, and after this story was published, they called back and asked for ten copies, so I guess they liked it. I’m putting this one behind the paywall, but hey, it’s only six bucks a month. If anyone is interested in adapting this story to film or TV, please get in touch, I’ve kept all the research. This first appeared as a cover feature in SF Weekly in April 1998.

You know I’ve always been a dreamer

(spend my life runnin’ round)

And it’s so hard to change

(can’t seem to settle down)

But the dreams I’ve seen lately

Keep on turnin’ out and burnin’ out and turnin’ out the same

So put me on a highway and show me a sign

And take it to the limit one more time

—“Take It to the Limit,” written and sung by Randy Meisner

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“Take It To The Limit” single from 1975, Randy Meisner second from right.

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Lewis Peter “Buddy” Morgan waits impatiently on a flight of stairs. He leans against the railing, watching for the door to open, wondering who in the hell would come to visit him here.

Maybe Morgan is irritated because of his predicament. He has, after all, just been convicted of fraud. He is in San Francisco County Jail No. 8, and his next stop is San Quentin, where he has been scheduled for a 16-month visit. That kind of future is something to be ticked off about, in and of itself. But Morgan is probably also irritated for another reason.

For the last decade, Morgan traveled between California and Nevada, pretending to be Randy Meisner, a founding member of the 1970s rock group the Eagles. As Meisner, Morgan coasted on the generosity of gullible instrument manufacturers, friendly casino owners, and starry-eyed women with money to burn. He grew fond of the process of fast-talking people out of a custom guitar, or if they happened to be female, out of their pants.

For a long time, Morgan had been living the life of a rock star. And now that’s over.

Depending on whom you ask, the case seems tragic or ludicrous. Some victims still smart so much from the emotional and financial loss, they can’t talk much, if at all, about their experiences. Others who have been stung burst out laughing at the first mention of Meisner’s name.

Randy Meisner! The Eagles! I haven’t thought about them for years—and I still fell for it!

San Francisco police arrested Morgan in February at a card room in Emeryville. Now, he’s just another con man in an orange jumpsuit, flip-flops, and white sweat socks, sitting at a table in a communal jailroom full of 100 hollering inmates. The last thing on his mind today was to talk with some damn journalist.

Morgan’s victims remember him as chatty, good-humored, energetic, sometimes even to the point of obnoxiousness. Now, though, he’s terse and defensive.

“Hearsay,” he says, eyes cold and intense, when asked about the specifics of his crimes. “These are fabrications. The numbers are inflated.”

Besides, why would anyone want to write a story about him? And why should he participate?

“You’re gonna write what you want anyway. It’s not interesting. It’d be a bad novel: The Pro and the Con.”