First published Myspace 2009
I received a bulletin this morning on myspace from one of my anti Iraq war friends. I opened the bulletin cautiously because i am used to his 9/11 video links and Anti Bush stuff but I nearly cried when I saw it say this.
It’s a sad day for KISS fans…
Late last night early on November 16th famous KISS frontman Gene Simmons was found dead in his house. “He was found late in the night by his daughter Sophie.” said reporter Russ Burnside.
Investigators are not sure of how the fan favorite KISS member and reality TV show star on Gene Simmons Family Jewels died or they are not releasing full details to the public just yet.
Gene’s partner; Shannon Tweed’s exact words “Gene, was a fun loving man and a great father, it’s a real tragedy that such a great mans life could end on such a short note. He will truly be missed.”
And if you don’t repost this no one will kill you and no one will hurt you and no you won’t have bad luck for seven years. You not posting this just shows you have no heart.
So please just repost as “in loving memory of Gene Simmons.”
Shock.. Horror… my mouth dropped open. My fingers, who never believe my eyes, went straight to google news for more info…. nothing.. I type in “Gene Simmons dead”… nothing.. no responses and no articles about the singer dying.
No way, i sit there and think….if Gene Simmons was dead the whole world would be in mourning.. it would b headlines everywhere….
I wandered over to Perezhilton.com…nothing there but that’s not surprising, he never gets it right after reporting that Fidel Castro definitely died way back in August…..
So there is no news other than my poxy myspace bulletin which by now my heart had thankfully worked out, is a dud.
You see Kiss mean so much to me. They were my first love, they were my first idols. They were my first heroes.
Way back in 1980 during my second year of high school it was announced that Kiss would tour Australia in the November. My little group of terror teens were over the moon. We were Kiss Freaks. There was a group of five of us, one of those odd numbers in group settings that ensures someone gets left out and our KISS fandom was one of those occasions.
We had a free dress up day that year and my friends of course dressed up as KISS. I myself wore my black jeans and flip flops and went dressed as a “troubled teen”.. I can’t say dressed up because I always dressed that way.
But the girls had great fun planning their makeup for the big day. Karen came dressed as Paul, Belinda came dressed as Gene, Suzanne came dressed as Peter and Donna dressed as Ace. I didn’t mind not having my own KISS character as I was a tad different from the others.. I never had a crush on an individual band members.. I didn’t understand this crush thing..
Hey I loved their music, loved the stage show and loved their act but I wasn’t caught up in some lost unrequited crush on some guy in a Halloween makeup mask. I didn’t understand the attraction, how could you have a crush on someone whose face you had never seen……
I mean don’t get me wrong, i was a fan just like the rest, I had every single Album they had released, my room looked like something out of a horror movie with the walls covered in KISS posters and pictures…… but I didn’t have the “one” band member that I wanted to sweep me off my feet and whisk me away to fairyland with.
Of course I shared my thoughts with my friends, who thought I was quite crazy not to have one of the band members as the great lost love of my life. They even offered me the new drummer but Heck he wasn’t anything on Criss. To me KISS was the original lineup…It became quite an issue between us all and of course, being teen girls.. grew into a massive bitch-fight.. over KISS and crushes.
Enter the concert in Sydney November 1980. The girls were so excited. Of course they were all going. Once again I was the odd one out. At that point I would rather have gone home, smoked a stick and sat back mellowed out in my room listening to the strains of “I was made for loving you” or “I want to Rock and Roll all night..and party every day”.
Soon some of the girls made an issue about me not going, I was the outcast, they had much to talk about and plan in their group of four, to dress like their characters and go to the concert. One of the girls Karen and I had never seen eye to eye, so she was really enjoying this and inciting the others to tease me more. It built up to the point we weren’t talking at all, they would be off in their little huddle laughing and planning while I was left sitting sadly on the fence.
So I went home and talked to dad. Dad was a coach captain who sub contracted to the biggest bus company in Wollongong and I knew that they would have the tour bookings and trips. I begged to be let go to the concert, I cried, I cajoled, I screamed, i stamped my foot until finally, of course as I knew he would, Dad caved and told me he would see about getting me a ticket.
The afternoon of the concert I got home, much sadder than usual, dad hadn’t been able to get me a ticket as they were sold out and the girls had been gloating that day, so I sort of shuffled in the front door and walked to the kitchen. I opened the door and my mouth fell open in shock. There sitting on the table was one bright ticket with the words KISS stamped across the front of it. I went up closer and picked it up gingerly, it couldn’t be, no way but it was. It was a ticket to the concert that night up in Sydney. Mum looked at me with a little smile on her face and said Happy 14th…It was my birthday the next week.
My face broke out into a huge smile I ran up and gave her the biggest hug and raced off to the phone to ring my friends to tell them I was going. No answer, not one of them answered, so i guessed they were somewhere getting ready. I shrugged. There was only a couple of buses going up so I would soon catch up to them. I knew all the drivers so I could easily check their manifests to see what coach they were on.
I raced in to get dressed. Haha I look back and cringe. I wore black heeled shoes with black tights and like superman black over pants. I had a back singlet (sleeveless undershirt) on and over it I wore one of my dads shirts unbuttoned, which flowed down to my knees. I used a couple of cans of hairspray to make my hair look appealing to any bird wishing to find a nest and streaked my face with black makeup and threw on some cheap gold jewelry. wow a goth before goth…
Excitedly I jumped in the car and we drove off to the station. When I arrived I looked around to see if I could see my friends. No go, there were hundreds of genes, pauls, peters, erics and ace’s but none fitted the odd sizings of my friends. Donna was only four feet tall so I was looking for a wee Ace.
I didn’t worry too much, I checked the manifests and couldn’t see their booking so I thought maybe the parents drove them up. I jumped on the bus and off we went. After an hour or so of driving we arrived at the showground and all made our way in. I was alone, looking around still for the others. I got inside and my mouth dropped open, it was indescribable, the set was fantastic, the crowd was so thick already that you couldn’t move. I looked to the front and shrugged again and started on my “mission”. The font row. This is where my size is a distinct advantage and disadvantage at the same time. I am five foot. That is five foot nothing, zero, zip, ziltch. Not five foot and a half. Just five foot exactly. So I am not into the crowd thing being that I can’t see much other than the sweaty stinky armpits of the person in front of me. But being small is great for squeezing though tight spots.. which is what I did.. I wormed and squeezed my way to the front row against the barrier.
I was there. Magic. The show started, I was right in front of Paul Stanley. Caught up in the pure magic of the show, I bopped against the barrier, alone and lost to the music. Incredible, so close, so fantastic. It really was pure magic. The lights, fireworks, stage tricks, the costumes, and colours and music… *sigh
It was over way to soon and I made my way back to the buses. Still no others in sight. I was hoping that they had good spots and had enjoyed the show as much as i did. I was still caught up in the show, still lost in the magic.. it would be many days before I landed back on Earth.
I then started thinking that they may have caught a train up so i went and told the driver i was going to get a train back and I jumped on a bus into the city of Sydney. The bus was jam packed full with Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Peter Criss, Eric, the new drummer and Ace, all screaming merrily, drunk on whatever, alcohol, drugs, the music, the band, the atmosphere. We arrived at Kings Cross, the “red light district” and I made my way along slowly to the train station, dressed as a freak, by myself along with hundreds of other KISS freaks. We wandered seemingly aimlessly along the main street which was lined with all sorts of life’s oddities, prostitutes in search of that last hookup that would allow them to finally score their next little baggy slice of heaven, pimps smoking fat joints of wickedly smelling weed, drunks semi conscious in the gutter, bikers on loud Harley’s mixed with addicts nodding off from their last fix and spruikers, who were standing outside the flashing lights of dingy little doorways to sleaziness.
When I got to the train station it was empty, no friends. By then it was 2am, I caught my train home and sleepily rang my parents from the station to come and get me.
The next day I rang my friends to ask what they had thought of the concert and where they had been standing and do you know what… none of them had gone..not one… they hadn’t been allowed to…..
*footnote.. we all made up and fought again..and made up again.. but today I appreciate those four girls more than you can ever imagine. I haven’t seen them for years. I talked to Belinda via myspace not long ago.. but they were my buddies, my partners in crimes and kept me sane through an awkward time.
I think what the moral to this story is, if there is a moral is to be yourself.. don’t follow the crowd and be in because it is in to be in.
One thing that strikes me as I write this though, is my own children. I was 13, I went to the city alone, I then ventured into the dark dark red light district alone. I walked through quicksand. Yet I am here today? What kept me safe while others around fell prey to deadly dangers?
My own daughter was 15 and I wouldn’t let her go driving at night with her mates in our small country town. I drove her to work and back and school and back. I never let her walk streets at night or go out where so would be exposed to danger.
Times have changed. I was safe. Now it is not safe.
and to the bastard that invented that bulletin when Gene Simmons isn’t dead.. you suck monkey nuts…….
Which brings me to my final point that Rick ( Click here For Ricks Blog – A great Netertaining Read) reminded me of… If you get a bulletin, how about you check the facts before you repost it.. and seriously if it threatens death or loss of your fingers or otherwise if you do or don’t repost it… then the TRASH BIN is the repost
Hey I just coined a new term.. Netertainment .. sheesh all good things start from a typo.. its sticking
and Ironically in a complete “Old Age – Senior Moment” reversal .. I have this hugest crush on Paul Stanley now he is unmasked… His writing is hot..his soul is hot..He is Hot.
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