Lick It Up, or: How I Met Gene Simmons
Friday, May 28, 2004.
From Melbourne.
You would think I would have written and posted this golden nugget sooner, but life in the fast lane and lack of free high speed internet has given me time to properly compose the story to maximum benefit. You be the judge.
On May 20, the day before the first show of the tour in Brisbane, Ash announced at our last production rehearsal that Kiss was playing in town and did we want to go? Oh yes, I did want to go. How much longer will Kiss really be able to strap themselves in, and how often does a little girl from Thornhill get to see Kiss live in concert in Brisbane? Come on Shelley.
That night about 7 of us piled into one of our transport vans and off we went. Brian was wearing his Cheap Trick T-shirt, which reminded me of how my friend Scott Dobson always gets celebrities to sign his Bat Out Of Hell record. There must be 25 autographs on it. Even John Tesh has signed that thing.
When we got to the security area, our savvy driver rolled down the window and said, “we’re with the party.” They waved us in. We’d never heard that one before but it seemed to work like a charm. We vowed to try that one next time things get dodgy at all future Rock & Roll Checkpoints. We timed it so that we’d arrive just before Kiss went on. According to our tickets, we had missed Machine Gun Fellatio’s opening set, but the name was enough entertainment. We went in through the backstage and although we did not spot Kiss, I did see a woman doing some last minute sewing in the Kiss Wardrobe room on our way by. We got a beer in the lobby and marvelled at the crowd of fellow rock nerds, Kiss-lookalikes and rock babes hoping for a backstage visit. Soon enough it was showtime. We plugged our ears and went onto the floor, pretty close to the action.
Some of the boys would do a better job than I of reviewing the show for you, like Ash and Dave who knew all the words, and Sean and Brian who knew all the licks, but I will say that it was everything you’d expect, and I loved it. Like so many women in history (so many) I found myself particularly intrigued by Gene Simmons. Yes the tongue is amazing but his marauding, lurid onstage character and his legacy of sexual conquest despite it?/because of it? really interested me. He’s disgusting, it should be a turnoff, and yet... Not to get all Womens’ Studies on you, but it was my major in university. Oh yeah, the pyro was great and it just kept on coming.
We left before the encore. On the way home, Ash immediately lifted Paul Stanley’s high pitched, less than macho mannerisms, in the form of: “Here’s one! Brisbane!”, which has become part of his extensive lexicon ever since. Ash is a great mimic and could easily have a career in voice work if he decided to quit his day job. So say I, the reluctant Jingle Queen of Toronto. Or should I say ‘ex’, now that I’m on tour with Sarah, leaving room for others to sing car and laundry soap ads. That’s how I was bankrolling my own solo album career before this tour.
[Promotional sidebar: ‘My Little Flame’ is out now, my new one ‘Kathryn Rose’ is coming out this August... and in case you didn’t know, my first solo album ‘Every Lurid Detail’ was produced by David Kershaw and features most of Sarah’s band playing on it. All are available at www.kathrynrose.net]
Where were we? Coming home from the Kiss concert. We didn’t get to meet them but it was a great show. The next day during soundcheck Ash started singing “I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me” instead of the “ooh, la la la’s” in “Sweet Surrender” and I joined in. It sounded pretty good.
Cut to:
The morning after our first show in Brisbane (which went really well and we had a great time onstage at last). I had woken up quite early and was already back from breakfast and a long walk. Back in my hotel room on the 10th floor, I looked out the window and had a bird’s eye view of Sarah and Ash down at the pool with Dave and Luke. Near to them was a man in a black jacket wandering about, talking on a cell phone, and a woman in a black T shirt, whom I did not recognize. I looked at them for a minute and thought, “a swim would be nice. Maybe I’ll do that. We’ve got loads of time before soundcheck.” Sorry to be graphic but I went for a pee, and in mid-pee, a lightening bolt went off. I said out loud, “holy shit, that was Gene Simmons down there.” As soon as I could I went back to the window and looked again. “Holy shit, that is Gene Simmons down there”.
I went for a swim.
I’m lying, really I went down to the pool as is and went over to everyone to get a closer look, all casual and such, like hey man, what are you guys doing...? It was totally Gene Simmons. Ash saw me coming over and said, “La Rose” or “Mamacita”, like he usually greets me. Gene was still wandering about talking on his cell phone but he looked at me and said, “ahhh...”, opening his arms for me to step into. I said, “you never call” and stepped into them. We stood there like that for about 3 whole minutes. Every feminist bone in my body went to the boneless chicken farm (Gary Larson). It was awesome.
I still get starstruck now and then by certain people I admire but I’m not usually prone to girly behavior around famous male sex symbols, and yet when Gene Simmons snapped my bra strap in the back and said, “she feels good” I didn’t knee him in the crotch. Ash said, “watch it man, she’s married, freshly married.” Gene said, “The only thing wrong with marriage is that one of the two people is usually a man.” He also said, “I don’t believe in marriage. I have billions of sperm to go around.” Gross. I was still standing in his arms. “Here, say hello to Tim”, said Gene, putting his cell phone to my ear. “Hi Tim, I can’t talk to you right now, Gene Simmons just snapped my bra strap.” It’s a good thing I never finished that Womens’ Studies degree, I’d have to give it back.
Gene said a lot of quotable things, so many that you’d swear he was following a script. At this point he probably is. He spent the whole time by the pool that day doing one interview after another on his cell phone, pausing only when his woman radar went off. There was a boardroom meeting taking place in the hotel through the window beside the pool. At one point a pregnant woman in the meeting went up to the window and lifted her shirt to show Gene her belly. Not very professional, but neither is Gene Simmons. Or should I say, all in a days’ work.
He was supposed to come to one of our shows in Sydney but he lost his wallet on the plane on the first night, didn’t show up the second night and on the third night, called Sarah at the suggestion of his publicist (Rena Ferris, the woman I saw by the pool with Gene that first day), and apparently said, “sorry I couldn’t make it. Too bad you’re not single,” or something of that description.
Rena came to one of our Melbourne shows and we all had a laugh. She’s a very nice woman. Must be quite a job looking after Gene Simmons. Thanks to her, I have a signed copy of Gene’s solo album “Asshole”. It’s quite good, and the artwork is quite a spectacle.
Well, as my mother-in-law would say, in her lovely Scottish accent, “there you have it.” That is How I Met Gene Simmons. Photos of my encounter will be up on my website soon:
www.kathrynrose.net
Until next time,
xo KR.
From Melbourne.
You would think I would have written and posted this golden nugget sooner, but life in the fast lane and lack of free high speed internet has given me time to properly compose the story to maximum benefit. You be the judge.
On May 20, the day before the first show of the tour in Brisbane, Ash announced at our last production rehearsal that Kiss was playing in town and did we want to go? Oh yes, I did want to go. How much longer will Kiss really be able to strap themselves in, and how often does a little girl from Thornhill get to see Kiss live in concert in Brisbane? Come on Shelley.
That night about 7 of us piled into one of our transport vans and off we went. Brian was wearing his Cheap Trick T-shirt, which reminded me of how my friend Scott Dobson always gets celebrities to sign his Bat Out Of Hell record. There must be 25 autographs on it. Even John Tesh has signed that thing.
When we got to the security area, our savvy driver rolled down the window and said, “we’re with the party.” They waved us in. We’d never heard that one before but it seemed to work like a charm. We vowed to try that one next time things get dodgy at all future Rock & Roll Checkpoints. We timed it so that we’d arrive just before Kiss went on. According to our tickets, we had missed Machine Gun Fellatio’s opening set, but the name was enough entertainment. We went in through the backstage and although we did not spot Kiss, I did see a woman doing some last minute sewing in the Kiss Wardrobe room on our way by. We got a beer in the lobby and marvelled at the crowd of fellow rock nerds, Kiss-lookalikes and rock babes hoping for a backstage visit. Soon enough it was showtime. We plugged our ears and went onto the floor, pretty close to the action.
Some of the boys would do a better job than I of reviewing the show for you, like Ash and Dave who knew all the words, and Sean and Brian who knew all the licks, but I will say that it was everything you’d expect, and I loved it. Like so many women in history (so many) I found myself particularly intrigued by Gene Simmons. Yes the tongue is amazing but his marauding, lurid onstage character and his legacy of sexual conquest despite it?/because of it? really interested me. He’s disgusting, it should be a turnoff, and yet... Not to get all Womens’ Studies on you, but it was my major in university. Oh yeah, the pyro was great and it just kept on coming.
We left before the encore. On the way home, Ash immediately lifted Paul Stanley’s high pitched, less than macho mannerisms, in the form of: “Here’s one! Brisbane!”, which has become part of his extensive lexicon ever since. Ash is a great mimic and could easily have a career in voice work if he decided to quit his day job. So say I, the reluctant Jingle Queen of Toronto. Or should I say ‘ex’, now that I’m on tour with Sarah, leaving room for others to sing car and laundry soap ads. That’s how I was bankrolling my own solo album career before this tour.
[Promotional sidebar: ‘My Little Flame’ is out now, my new one ‘Kathryn Rose’ is coming out this August... and in case you didn’t know, my first solo album ‘Every Lurid Detail’ was produced by David Kershaw and features most of Sarah’s band playing on it. All are available at www.kathrynrose.net]
Where were we? Coming home from the Kiss concert. We didn’t get to meet them but it was a great show. The next day during soundcheck Ash started singing “I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me” instead of the “ooh, la la la’s” in “Sweet Surrender” and I joined in. It sounded pretty good.
Cut to:
The morning after our first show in Brisbane (which went really well and we had a great time onstage at last). I had woken up quite early and was already back from breakfast and a long walk. Back in my hotel room on the 10th floor, I looked out the window and had a bird’s eye view of Sarah and Ash down at the pool with Dave and Luke. Near to them was a man in a black jacket wandering about, talking on a cell phone, and a woman in a black T shirt, whom I did not recognize. I looked at them for a minute and thought, “a swim would be nice. Maybe I’ll do that. We’ve got loads of time before soundcheck.” Sorry to be graphic but I went for a pee, and in mid-pee, a lightening bolt went off. I said out loud, “holy shit, that was Gene Simmons down there.” As soon as I could I went back to the window and looked again. “Holy shit, that is Gene Simmons down there”.
I went for a swim.
I’m lying, really I went down to the pool as is and went over to everyone to get a closer look, all casual and such, like hey man, what are you guys doing...? It was totally Gene Simmons. Ash saw me coming over and said, “La Rose” or “Mamacita”, like he usually greets me. Gene was still wandering about talking on his cell phone but he looked at me and said, “ahhh...”, opening his arms for me to step into. I said, “you never call” and stepped into them. We stood there like that for about 3 whole minutes. Every feminist bone in my body went to the boneless chicken farm (Gary Larson). It was awesome.
I still get starstruck now and then by certain people I admire but I’m not usually prone to girly behavior around famous male sex symbols, and yet when Gene Simmons snapped my bra strap in the back and said, “she feels good” I didn’t knee him in the crotch. Ash said, “watch it man, she’s married, freshly married.” Gene said, “The only thing wrong with marriage is that one of the two people is usually a man.” He also said, “I don’t believe in marriage. I have billions of sperm to go around.” Gross. I was still standing in his arms. “Here, say hello to Tim”, said Gene, putting his cell phone to my ear. “Hi Tim, I can’t talk to you right now, Gene Simmons just snapped my bra strap.” It’s a good thing I never finished that Womens’ Studies degree, I’d have to give it back.
Gene said a lot of quotable things, so many that you’d swear he was following a script. At this point he probably is. He spent the whole time by the pool that day doing one interview after another on his cell phone, pausing only when his woman radar went off. There was a boardroom meeting taking place in the hotel through the window beside the pool. At one point a pregnant woman in the meeting went up to the window and lifted her shirt to show Gene her belly. Not very professional, but neither is Gene Simmons. Or should I say, all in a days’ work.
He was supposed to come to one of our shows in Sydney but he lost his wallet on the plane on the first night, didn’t show up the second night and on the third night, called Sarah at the suggestion of his publicist (Rena Ferris, the woman I saw by the pool with Gene that first day), and apparently said, “sorry I couldn’t make it. Too bad you’re not single,” or something of that description.
Rena came to one of our Melbourne shows and we all had a laugh. She’s a very nice woman. Must be quite a job looking after Gene Simmons. Thanks to her, I have a signed copy of Gene’s solo album “Asshole”. It’s quite good, and the artwork is quite a spectacle.
Well, as my mother-in-law would say, in her lovely Scottish accent, “there you have it.” That is How I Met Gene Simmons. Photos of my encounter will be up on my website soon:
www.kathrynrose.net
Until next time,
xo KR.
posted by Kathryn Rose (aka KR) at 3:15 a.m.
1 Comments:
"we’re with the party"will have to try that one day :p
lol sounds like an interesting and fun experience ;)
ahhh now it makes sense! i read a gene simmons interview on undercover.com.au and it mentioned that they spoke to sarah while they were interviewing gene - hereanyways, thanks for a fantastic perfomance and all your help! don't worry i will buy your album (waiting for new one)...promise!
best of luck for the rest of the tour and your career!
cheers,
eM
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