Site hosted by Build your free website today!

The nature of life in reality . . .

"I was made for lovin' you baby . . ."4/26/00

Last night, I became a member of the KISS Army. It was their farewell tour and I was offered a ticket. I had to go. It's my duty as an American.

Harold's sister was able to snag four primo seats well within "face burning range" and there were four well adjusted middle class adults ready to rock-and-roll. James (who has never been a member of the KISS Army, although he did a four-year tour with Uncle Sam) didn't go with us. He was on call and I've been told that he has "issues" with the band thanks to an old college girlfriend. But, he told me to have a good time just the same.

The fun started at six or so when I went down to the neighbor's place. Sonya was in the midst of transforming Dawne (the aforementioned sister) into Peter Chris when I arrived. Shortly thereafter, I became Paul (The Star Child), and Harold was turned into Space Ace. The siblings went down to the corner grocery to pick up a disposable camera to document the event while I painted the mark of The Demon (Gene Simmons) on Sonya. She wasn't real thrilled about it at first, but she looked way cool.

There were various odd looks and catcalls from people as we made our way down to the Pyramid, but the trip was generally uneventful. We got there just as Ted Nugent was finishing his set. I had hoped that we would miss him entirely. Oh, well. I survived. When we went to the ticket guy, we were informed that our section (the one well within "face burning range") did not exist. We had to go see this guy on the floor so that we could get replacement tickets. I couldn't hear a thing, but the guy motioned in a general direction that I thought wasn't too offensive. Besides, he said that they were the best he had left. Some other "dudes" were bitching about "getting' screwed man" because they had paid 4X face value from a scalper for these "nonexistent" seats. I didn't really care. Our tickets were free.

We suffered through the last few songs of Ted's set and waited for the real show to start. The Puerto Rican guys in front of us took some pictures and we chatted with the Vixen from Seattle sitting just behind. A couple of minutes before the show started everybody stood up and started screaming and pointing. Four guys in full gear (I'm assuming that they were one of the tribute bands playing around town) walked onto the Pyramid floor liked they owned the place. I wish I could make an entrance like that.

As soon as the lights went down, Dawn was as bad as a Duranie in the Durania (read my Duran Duran tour journal if you don't understand.)

They opened with Detroit Rock City and closed with Rock and Roll All Night. In between there were sights to behold.

Jen's Top Ten list of things seen/heard at the KISS concert:

10 - Flames so hot you can feel the heat 150 feet away.
9 - Indoor Fireworks.
8 - Metal Heads that looked exactly the same as they did in high school.
7 - "Hot Chicks" that get pointed at for backstage passes.
6 - Suburban kids completely unaware of Arena Show drug etiquette.
5 - The adorable Japanese tourists sitting behind us.
4 - Rampant exhibitionism in the front row.*
3 - Gene Simmons' ego.
2 - The way Paul Stanley can dance in super stacked platform boots.**
1 - The original power ballad, Beth sung to a canned soundtrack, under a mirror ball.***

* There were lots of tits, I assure you. One girl, however, stands out in my memory. She not only licked each of her nipples. She proceeded to put each of them in her mouth and suckle herself. We talked about it on our way home.
Sonya: "I can't do that."
Dawne: "Neither can I."
Jen: "Why in God's name would you want to? I mean, you have it in your mouth, you sneeze, you bite it off . . . How do you explain something like that? Harold didn't say much. He just smiled.

**"I swear! If you didn't know he was straight . . ." Ladies and Gentlemen, the agile brain of Sonya Williams at work.

*** I know this makes me a total girl and all, but I just love this song. It was a roller rink moment if there ever was one.

Strange things

I've been carrying a list of things to write about in my purse for a week now. Since I'm thinking about it, here you go:

The Burning Bush

Last Friday (Good Friday), I'm driving down Union Ave. As I pass the Danvers Restaurant, I see a single shrubbery (bush) on fire (burning). I don't know if it was a sign from God or not, but it got a lot of strange stares from the rush hour drivers.

Truck Stop Tunes

How strange is it to walk into the bathroom of a truck stop and hear ABBA? Too Strange.

Café Mexicali

I'm not saying that there is some sort of Oliver Stone like conspiracy at work in Memphis, but I think it might just be more than coincidence that all of our brand new Starbucks opened in what used to be wildly popular Mexican restaurants. Makes you think.

go to the archive
look at my other web site