KISS

 

On August 29, 1976, Bill and I went to see Kiss at The Atlanta, Fulton County Stadium. Some guy named Bob Seger opened the show, early in the afternoon. It was a very hot day. The show was general admission and coolers and blankets were allowed. Apparently, nearly anything was allowed. The only thing I could compare it to would be Woodstock. We had 40,000, out-of-control fans and a handful of security guards who just tried to stay out of our way. Imagine having every rebellious teenager from Georgia, in one location, for one day.

Let me back up to the wait. Before the doors opened, the crowds gathered outside. We had a decent spot, near the gates. The midday heat was relentless. It was August in Atlanta; need I say more? People were passing around cold drinks of whatever they had in their coolers. At first, I thought to myself, “I’m not gonna drink after total strangers.” The heat was so unbearable; I finally took a sip of something as it passed by. I was only 12 and I probably should have inquired about the contents, but it was cold, so I continued to take sips as cold drinks came around.

When the crowd appeared to swirl, I started feeling nauseous. But the doors opened and it was time to run. Bill was carrying a huge, red cooler and we had blankets too. We ran and were followed by the crowd. In retrospect, it was a dangerous moment. But we made it. We ended up just to the right of the pitcher’s mound. Had there been actual rows, we might have been on the fifth or six row, just to the right of the stage. It was perfect. To our right, behind a row of four-foot-high, chain-link fences, was a massive tower of speakers. I’m going from memory, but the speakers were about 30 inches each and the tower must have been 30 feet high. Georgia State University has images of that day in their archives. The images were taken by an Atlanta Journal Photographer.

Bob Seger, and his newly assembled, Silver Bullet Band took the stage around 3:00 PM. Audience members who could not take the heat were excused. The mob would carry them overhead and dump them over the fence in a grassy area beside the massive speaker-tower. Several people took “naps” over there for the rest of the show.

38 Special took the stage. The crowd was rowdy for their entire set. I remember some parts of their set, but most of it was drowned out by the crowd noise. Johnny and Edgar Winter was just a little louder, but it was getting hotter and muggy. It was miserable by the time they got on stage.

Finally, Blue Oyster Cult took the stage and the sun started going down. Before the band started playing, Buck Dharma threw an entire six-pack of Bud into the crowd and told us to enjoy it and cool off. He immediately regretted it, saying, “I hope that didn’t hit anybody on the head.”

After they played their hit, The Reaper, the crowd was finally paying attention to the stage. The stage, meanwhile, was being prepared for Kiss.

Finally, after about thirty minutes of prep, the band emerged and walked on stage while flames and smoke lit the entire stadium. Lights were flashing and the gigantic speakers started buzzing loudly. When I say loudly, I mean it shook the ground. The vibration of the initial hum was the result of Ace Frehley’s Humbucking pickups and Gene Simmons’ low E, string, left open and vibrating for effect. I could see the speakers pulsing with the sounds. I was actually worried about our “seats”. We were very close to those speakers.

“You wanted the best, and you got the best, the hottest band in the world; KISS!”

As soon as those words shot out across Atlanta, Kiss went into Detroit Rock City and I don’t know how the entire stadium didn’t go up in flames. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights and drums! The music was so loud that when Bill tried to say something, I had to try to read his lips; but it was no use. After the first song, Paul Stanley came to the microphone and said, “They don’t call this Hotlanta for nothing.” And Peter Criss beat the drums for emphasis.  

Nevertheless, the show went on. It was, and remains, the best show I have ever witnessed. I was deaf for a few days afterwards, but it was worth it. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights, cables, drums, burning guitars, smoking guitars, elevating drums, sirens. I’ll never forget the beginning of Firehouse, when Paul Stanley came out, wearing a fireman’s helmet, with fire and smoke covering the stage’ sirens going off, red lights and flashing lights.

After that song, Gene Simmons breathed fire, shooting it all the way across the huge stage. Ace did a long solo. Peter Criss sat on a drum and sang Beth. There was everything a 12-year-old could ask for. There was blood, fire, smoke, loud guitars, loud drums and so much more.

I’ve lost count of how many Kiss shows I have been to since that show in 1976. I have never been disappointed at a Kiss Show.

In fact, 45 years later, Bill and I returned to the scene of the crime and saw them one last time on October 10, 2021. Believe it or not, it was better than the show in 1976.

Kiss hasn’t just been my favorite show; it has been a part of my life. I’m grateful for having had the experience of Kiss. Bill took me to my first and last Kiss show; he gets it.

As I write, the very last stage is being set for the final Kiss show. They play at Madison Square Garden at 7:30 PM tonight. The band has been doing these shows for 50 years and it is time.

Gene, Paul, Peter and Ace, thank you for these years of rocking all night long and partying every day!!

 

May The Force Be With You

 

Jennifer and I made our way to Piedmont Hospital and the usual prep began. Eventually, I was rolled into the operating room where I met the Da Vinci Robot, who was going to partner with the doctor during the surgery.

 

Being sedated, I think I asked the robot how it was doing.

I dozed off, opened my eyes and learned that six hours had passed.

At the time, I remember some discomfort, but it was somewhat manageable with the help of Sister Morphine.

Here I lie in my hospital bed

Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again?

Oh, I don't think I can wait that long

Oh, you see that I'm not that strong ~ The Rolling Stones

 

 

 

And I rested.

When I would awaken, a nurse, or Jennifer, would usually be standing by my bed, trying to get me up and walking. I wanted no part of that.

On the second day of this surgical journey, I met a nurse named Joel Bond. I will never forget him, or the mystical experience his visit became. I only connected with Joel for that brief stay at Piedmont, but his effect on me completely changed my life.

Joel was often very busy when he’d drop by to check on me, but he’d still take a moment and pull a chair up beside my bed and chat for a couple of minutes. He’d joke and he’d give me some encouraging words before he rushed away again; always promising to check on me in a while and always keeping his promise.

I had some minor complications that kept me in the hospital for a few days, but Joel was there every day. And on the third day after my visit to the cave (Hero’s Journey), Joel came in smiling. He pulled his chair up and said, “I’m so happy.”

I had no idea what he was referring to. “About?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ve seen your path,” he said, “You are going to live a long time.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. But I did not have time to ask him to clarify; my doctor walked in.

“We’ve got your pathology report back Mark.” Said Dr. Wong.

Joel put his hand over his mouth, “I thought you knew. I let it slip.” He said.

Oh… Okay, path is short for pathology. Right.

“We got it all and we won’t need to do anything more.” Said Dr. Wong, “We are just going to monitor your PSA a while. You’ll die of something one day, but not prostate cancer.”

With that, Dr. Wong walked out and Joel said, “I am so sorry. I thought you already knew.”

I told Joel I had no idea that “path” meant “pathology” and we had a laugh about that.

“I may not see you anymore.” Said Joel, “This is not my floor. I’m upstairs if you need me. After I met you, I asked them if I could stay on this floor until I knew you were going to be okay, but I’ve got to get back now.”

Joel gave me a pat on the arm and said, “It has been fun. You are going to be fine.”

I’ve not seen him since.

As soon as Joel walked out, it was easy for me to believe I’d just had a mystical experience, based on a true story.

The name Joel comes from the same source that gives us the word “jewel” It means: The Lord is God.

The word “Bond”, Joel’s last name, means: uniting power or influence; or a method of laying bricks.

The path? It is not really short of pathology in this story. It is Joseph Campbell’s path of a hero; which we are all called to travel on from time to time. It is the journey which every life-story is based on, for every individual. George Lucas wrote Star Wars based on The Hero’s Journey. To me, it seems clear that Lucas uses Luke to tell of his own journeys. Whether you see it or not, you’ll be called out on a journey. You won’t want to go. You’ll meet others, the way I met Joel Bond, and you’ll find yourself in a cave, where you have to deal with your fears. Your Joel, or your Yoda or your mentor, will help you to discover your strength.

“My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us, binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.” ~ Yoda

 

The Journey's End

 

Today would have been my 40^th anniversary if Lori. I miss Lori on some strange level. I suppose I remember the shy little creature I dated 40-44 years ago, predating the beginning of the end. In that smaller window of my story, I can still see a rather cheerful period; an experience I enjoyed very much. In those years, I was in need of a miraculous rescue. From ages 0-14, I was developing and living in a story of complete anxiety. I was a wild Mustang of a horse. I hid behind hills and drank from streams and foraged in that wilderness of unhappy isolation. I could not really fit in anywhere. I would go to school and I was an outcast, making friends with the unruliest students I could find. I only made such friends because I could not identify with anyone who fit in socially. When The Universe introduced Lori as a supporting actress in my story, I found myself playing parts I had never played. I found out that dating would require a trip to a restaurant; something I had only done once or twice in my life. I did not know about these buildings where food was offered and servers would ask me difficult questions like, “Would you like some fresh grated parmesan cheese?”

It may sound like a simple question, but questions like that produced such uncomfortable feelings within me. “If I say no, will I offend this person? Does the cheese cost more? Does the server really have time to bother with such a selfish request?”

These imponderables would cause my heart to race and a bead of sweat would appear on my forehead. I stammered and sent the friendly server away, wishing I could have enjoyed the cheese I just refused.

To say that I was an awkward teenager is as much of an understatement as saying the ocean is wet.

Lori was not my girlfriend or a permanent fixture in my life; that was never the intention. Of course, my desire was to keep her on as my mate, but a Greater Mind knew that she had a limited role. Lori was a door into an adventure. When I was 19, and finally stepping through that door, I saw Lori and I as joint-protagonists. But later that day – this day, 40 years ago – I was given the clue of a lifetime and it was a literal sign, with two words on it and those two words captured the essence of the entire story of Lori. I did not realize this then, but the two words on that sign were there to reveal the title of the play in which Lori and I were costars. The two words? Journey’s End. That night, the epilogue was printed and the hardcover edition of the very first book of The Chronicles of My Life was bound.

It seemed unusual to begin a series of books with the first one being referred to as The Journey’s End, but it was the end; not of my life’s story, but of the story a complete adventure, where I was as wild as a Mustang and broken by a little, redheaded girl.

So today still marks an anniversary for me; it’s the anniversary of the end of book one. Without the first book, The Journey’s End, I would not have been prepared to accept the call we read about in the second book. Lori appeared in the first few chapters of the second book, but only to set up the characters who would help me over the threshold and back into the special world. Every Hero’s Journey begins in a mundane, ordinary world. Shortly after I stepped through the door of perception, which was introduced in the first episode of my life, I found myself in a very ordinary state. At that point, I could ask for parmesan cheese without the slightest delay. I was in this ordinary state for eight years into the second book, but the phone rang, and it was Lori. “Meet me,” She said, “and let’s say, ‘goodbye.’”

I agreed and we met at a middle school, located almost exactly in the middle of where we began and where we ended up. From that meeting, I watched her drive away and then I turned and answered the call back into the special world.