Friday afternoon I got a phone call from a very excited husband. He had just been offered 2 free tickets to see KISS in concert on Sunday night. The way he was talking I thought he was going to tell me he'd won the lottery - he was THAT excited. He was a HUGE fan of the band when he was growing up in Jordan and he'd always wanted to see them live. As we'd made a pact at the beginning of the year not to go to any concerts this year with only a few specific exceptions, he hadn't even looked into getting tickets. So when 2 came his way, he was over the moon. I was more excited for the idea of having a quiet Sunday night, but he wanted me to experience it with him. That and he couldn't think of anyone else who would want to join him. I resisted. But he pointed out the fact that it would surely be good blog fodder, and I relented a bit. Ultimately I gave up my quiet and joined the KISS Army for an evening.
The opening act was a band called Buckcherry. They've had a few moderately successful hits, but nothing we were in any way interested in catching. So we showed up about a half hour after they started and just ended up standing around the hallways, waiting for the intermission and getting in some good people watching. When the lights went up and the switchover started, we headed for our seats. Let me tell ya, I don't think I've had seats that good for any concert in my life. If only I could get that close for next year's Bon Jovi or U2 concerts (they were on the excepted list, by the way :)). Anyway, we were in the section closest to Stage Left, about 4 rows up. Ever been to a concert and had to sit far away and felt jealous of the jerks who scored tickets right up against the stage and hogged the entire band's attention? Yeah, that was our section last night. Crazy good seats. Whenever the flames would shoot up, it was so hot I worried my eyebrows were going to singe.
I really only recognize about 3, maybe 4 KISS songs. But that just allowed me to share my attention with the crazy show going on in the audience. Yes, plenty of face painters. Many of them children. Lots of children there with their parents. A cross-generational love of rock - a beautiful thing, I'm sure. There were a few in full KISS costume and they were swarmed with people who wanted their pics taken with them. There was one guy I so desperately wanted a picture of - wearing his KISS t-shirt, face painted, but his arm in a sling. Clearly injured in the line of duty.
One guy sitting a few rows in front of us was cracking me up. He was wearing a bowling-style shirt with KISS on it and he kept pulling at it whenever Paul Stanley walked over and looked in his direction, as if to say, "Look how big a fan I am? I have a shirt with your picture on it! Pick me out of the crowd to stand (literally about 3 feet away) in the "special fans" section (more about that in a moment)!" At one point, Paul sort of mocked him pulling at his spandexy strap (can't call it a shirt) , as if to say, "So what?" Or, perhaps more appropriately, "Perhaps if you were about 30 years younger, female and had bigger boobs." But this guy's love was true. And his exuberance was real. Do you know that old SNL skit where Molly Shannon plays the woman who jumps around yelling "I'm 50! 50 years old! And I can jump, and I can stretch and I can KICK!"? That was this guy. He kept attempting to replicate the band members' jumps with their guitars (which, I must admit, they still carry off successfully, in spite of their advanced rocker age). It was really funny, take my word for it. Though I give him props for devotion.
But perhaps the most interesting phenomenon is one that surely has occurred at every rock concert since the beginning of time, I've just never sat close enough to witness it. I am referring to that of the hoochie. The female who has dressed and/or acted SO SLUTTY that she has gotten the band's attention and has been singled out. One girl sitting a few rows in front of us walks in wearing a pink mesh shirt and a black sort of bustier/vest/corset thing. But the true advantage she gains in this contraption is that it buttons just under her boobs. So her ta-tas are totally out there for the world to see, covered only by completely see-through pink mesh. She has cleverly covered her nipples with star-shaped pasties. So, so classy. But totally successful, as about 2 songs into the set, Paul sees her and stares and nods. About 2 minutes later, a staff member walks down the aisle to pull her and her friend out of the crowd. About 2 minutes after that they show up below us in what is apparently the area for the "chosen." They joined other classy gals and got to watch the rest of the concert right in front of the stage. The seat she started out in was probably better viewing of the whole show, actually, but it's about the prestige, isn't it? There was also another upstanding gal in front of us who, I believe, flashed her boobs right to Paul (he hung out on our side of the stage for most of the show) and he was totally into it. He motioned to her to rub up on her hot female friend and they grinded and spanked each other, and all the while her male friend (I assume it was her boyfriend) was egging it on. The funny thing is - I don't think the boyfriend thought it was hot as much as he hoped they'd get pulled into the "chosen" area and maybe he could go with them. So very entertaining.
What else? Oh, there were a few points when the entire band would leave the stage except for one of them and this person would give us a solo performance while the others got a break. One of the guys (not an original member of the band) did a guitar solo with a guitar that shot exploding flames out of it. Pretty impressive. But the last time he did it he aimed it up toward the ceiling of the stage on the side where we were sitting and hit a light fixture above the corner of the stage. It hung by a cord for a moment before crashing to the stage. It very nearly took out a security guard. Though he didn't seem phased. My heart was racing so hard as I thought for sure I was about to witness the top story on the night's news. But now I'm wondering if it was somehow all part of the show. Perhaps I'll never know. If anyone reading this happens to know if this is a regular occurrence at a KISS concert, please fill me in. :)
Paul Stanley showing off his sextagenarian goods
Gene Simmons sticking out his tongue at us
After the pyrotechnics, the fake blood and the flights over the stage and the audience, Z had gotten his fill. And in a fashion more in keeping with the age of most of the crowd (who were apparently opting to ignore the fact that they had to wake up and go to work the next morning), he opted to leave before the encore had ended so we could beat the traffic. He had realized his dream. And we were home by 11:15. Rock. On.
