The Human Clump

May 28, 2004.

Have had an awesome time in Melbourne (after recovering from the “head injury”, see previous entry titled “Cliffhanger”). Succumbed to the party vibe of touring much more here. Went dancing last night after the first show, at the Cherry Bar with Vince, Dave, Luke, our tour manager Dan C and Jenny from the flight to Australia who has been keeping us company. I should have been in bed, still have that bug, but it was so much fun.

Tonight a portion of the human clump * just went for a star power night swim at the hotel. In the drive back to the hotel after the 2nd show in Melbourne this evening Sarah said, “maybe they’ll open the pool for us”. I said, “oh, I always wish I could have a late night swim!” Our tour manager Dan Cleland said, “I’m sure we could make that happen”. I said, “I forgot who I was sitting beside”, and we laughed.

Next thing I knew:

the phone rang
I tripped in the dark over the ottoman
hello
it was sarah
hello there
hi
are you coming down to the pool
yes
i’ll see you there
okay
okay

Until the night cleaning staff had enough of our shenanigans, we had the run of the pool and spa. Luke brought the wine, instant party! Fun.

That’s it for now. Goodnight.

xo KR.

______________________

* My name for any group of people that travels together whether by choice or circumstance, usually the latter. I first coined that phrase in 1994 when I had a lead role in a movie called “National Lampoon’s Senior Trip”, in which I played a stoner named Wanda Baker. I was one of a bunch of actors playing high school kids who went to meet the President of the United States and got in heaps of trouble on the way. The script was full of scenes that said “the kids try to stop Miosky” or “the kids trash the convenience store”. ...And, action, human clump!

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.

Cliffhanger

Wednesday, May 26/04

I’m sitting like a princess atop a fluffy bed at the Park Hyatt in Melbourne. Big downy pillows and lovely duvet, I mean dooner, as the Aussies would call it. No synthetic hotel bedspreads here!

So, if everything’s so dreamy why did I have a good cry today? It was the darndest thing. We flew here today from Sydney, where we played 3 nights in a row at the State Theater, lovely place. I woke up with the early signs of a bug of some kind on the day of the third show there. It’s inevitable that we will all get sick while on tour here and there, but I was dismayed to fall prey to illness so soon in the proceedings. I took all the remedies I could and sang through it just fine for the show that night. The next morning (which was yesterday) I felt dizzy and horrid and was very glad we had the day off. I spent it in bed. No more sightseeing for me. Oh well. I’m glad I took a walk around the Sydney Opera House and surrounding gardens when we first arrived. I saw hundreds of bats hanging from trees waiting for the witching hour. I saw more fabulous plants and trees and birds. I’ve discovered that vegetation really interests me. I seem to photograph it a lot. People look at me funny in parks but I pretend I’m with the Botanical Society. I’ve also been photographing birds like a madwoman, but not just any birds... I’m looking for something specific. My new album comes out this August, and on it is a song called “Low Flying Bird”. I’ve been on a mission to get the ultimate photograph of a low flying bird for the album artwork. I must have 50 pictures of birds now, and with the variety of birds we’ve been seeing in our travels it will be hard to choose just one.

Back to my good cry:

So, I felt like a bag of ---- yesterday and thankfully awoke feeling less dizzy for our flight here to Melbourne today. Before I knew it I was checked into this fabulous, sexy art deco/modern hotel and went down to the gym for a workout. The decor here is so sleek I didn’t notice a marble wall until I smacked my head into it in the ladies’ changeroom. I should sue. Anyway, add the shock of smacking my head to residual self-pity from being sick, throw in missing my husband extra big time today, plus a little PMS for good measure and you get Kathryn Rose locking herself into a stall in the ladies’ changeroom at the Melbourne Park Hyatt for a good cry.

Then I went and worked out.

Tonight I just returned from dinner with Luke, David Kershaw and Jenny, a woman we met on the long flight to Australia. We had a fabulous Thai banquet. I have to go to sleep now in the interest of truly regaining my health for the show tomorrow night, but next time I’ll tell you how I met Gene Simmons last week.

How’s that for a cliffhanger?!

Nighty night...

xo KR.

ps: It’s definitely autumn in Melbourne now!