Being Paul Stanley

It seems like I’m about the only person in the Baltimore area who wasn’t at the Kiss show earlier this week. I scrolled through countless photos and videos on Facebook after the show and it looks like it was a blast. The last time that I saw Kiss was back in 1996 on the original reunion tour at the now defunct Capital Centre (or was it the US Air Arena at that time?).  And while I thought the ticket price was a bit high at $50 back then, it pales in comparison to the prices of today. That’s one of the primary reasons that I don’t go to many shows these days. The other reason is that I like to be in bed by 10 o’clock. Yes, I know. I’m cheap, old, and boring. But let’s move on…

Anyone who has ever been to a Kiss show or seen a video of a Kiss show knows that Paul Stanley has always has a predictable banter with the audience. In his loud, powerful voice, he’ll introduce random songs with his personalized touch. For instance, he might say, “Hey y’all, I want to tell you something! When I’m up here on this stage, I can barely control my excitement! You guys have been a terrific audience and I want you to give yourself a round of applause! Now, it’s time to pull the trigger of my LOVE GUN!”

Paul has a real connection with the crowd. His intros are really effective in getting the fans primed for each song. With all of this being said, I’ve often wondered what would happen if I became Paul Stanley for a day. I’m not talking about painting a black star on my eye and parading around in platform boots. But I’d like to use Paul’s introductions for my everyday interactions.

For example, when I pass Tina in the kitchen first thing in the morning, I’ll say, “I see you over there by the coffee pot! You gotta ask yourself a question! You gonna use two Splendas or only one!? C’mon on now, make up your mind and stop standin’ ‘round like a HARD LUCK WOMAN!”

And when the Fedex guy comes strolling down my driveway, I’ll jump out of the bushes and startle him with, “As you deliver those boxes to the front of my door, I can tell that you’re workin’ yourself up quite a thirst! And when you’re workin’ hard, you don’t want no Coca-Cola! The only thing that will do is COLD GIN!”

For a bonus, I’ll immediately transition into an air guitar version of the intro riff to “Cold Gin” as he returns to his delivery truck.

Later on, as I make my way through the grocery store, I see that someone has dropped a jar of tomato sauce on the floor. Trying to get as much attention as possible from the Safeway shoppers, I shout, “Gather ‘round people! I can clearly see that we need a clean-up in aisle five! But don't let that get you down! Sometimes, when things don’t go as planned, a simple mop and bucket won’t do! No, no! Sometimes, people, you just gotta LICK IT UP!”

I’m not sure if I’ll ever be allowed back in the Safeway again. But at least I gave the crowd a much needed dose of Paul Stanley.

On the way home, I’m still feeling the adrenaline from the aisle five incident. Right on cue, I’m confronted with an aggressive driver. As we decelerate at the next red light, I roll down the window and yell, “So, let me get this right! You’re feeling like you own the road and nobody else matters to ya?! Well, let me tell you something! I’m gonna kick your ass all the way to DETROIT ROCK CITY”.

Later on, a door-to-door salesman makes the mistake of showing up at my house. I eagerly make my way to the door and greet him with, “Hey there, Mr’ Salesman! How ya doin’?!!

The salesman stands there with a bewildered look in his eyes and says nothing. He immediately realizes that he picked the wrong house to visit.

After letting him squirm for a minute, I follow up with, “I can’t hear you! I said, How ya doin’ tonight?!”

His bewilderment quickly transitions into fright. I then see my neighbor coming out of his house. So, I improvise with a crowd participation move.

“Now, let’s move over to the right side of the yard! Just to let you know, this salesguy ain’t showin’ me much. So, I’m gonna give the other side a chance. On the count of three, I’m gonna ask my neighbor Jack how he’s doin’! So listen up salesguy, and learn how it’s done! One…..Two….Three……”How you doin’, Jack!?!

Jack immediately throws his left hand up and says, “I’m good, Ken. How you doin’?!”

I respond with an enthusiastic, “Alright!”

And then turn my attention back to the salesguy. By this time, I can tell that he’s really feeling uncomfortable.

“So, let me ask you somethin’ now, Mr. Salesman! You saw what my neighbor Jack can do! You gonna let him show you up? I’m gonna give you one more chance! And this time, let’s not f*ck around! I said HOW YA DOIN’!?!”

He finally responds, “You’re not right. You need some serious help!”. And then he turns and walks away.

I step out onto my front step and deliver one final parting shot.

“Don’t get discouraged, Mr. Salesguy! When one door closes, another one opens! As you make your way down the street, you gotta ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT AND PARTY EVERY DAY!!! Whooo!!!”

This causes him break into a run. He clearly wants no part of Paul Stanley today. I don’t think he’ll be trying to sell me any windows or gutters any time soon.

With all of this being said, Kiss has had a tremendous run of over 50 years. They wrap up their illustrious career at Madison Square Garden this weekend. It’s crazy that these guys can still perform after all of this time. Yeah, I know they can’t play and sing like they did in their prime. But c’mon! It’s Kiss! How can you not love them? They definitely know how to put on a show. And of course, Paul Stanley really knows how to connect with an audience.

kw

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saying Goodbye to a Pet

Our pets are a huge part of our lives. Much like the "comfort and joy" that you might experience from a familiar Christmas song, pets enrich our lives all year long. Unfortunately, there comes a time when will inevitably say, "Goodbye"....

When the decision comes to taking your pet to the veterinarian for the last time, it's never easy.  So many conflicting things go through your mind. Is it really time? Can we do something to prolong/improve his quality of life? Are we doing this more for us or the pet?......The hardest part is that once you made the final decision to euthanize your pet, there's no turning back. 

As callous as it might sound, if our pets just passed away in their sleep, it would make things much easier. I'm certainly not saying that it still won't hurt. But at least it takes away the mental torture of knowing whether or not that you made the right call at the right time.

While I'm in no way comparing the loss of a pet to a loss of a person, it still stings. Anyone who has ever had a connection with a beloved pet knows exactly what I'm talking about. 

A lot of people can't relate because they haven't had the direct interaction with the pet. For the most part, pet owners have an isolated connection with their animals. If your friend's pet passes away, you will sympathize with them because of the hurt that he/she feels. But you don't really feel the loss because you yourself haven't had that same interaction. I have heard some people say, "What's the big deal? It's just an animal?" While that mentality would definitely make the loss a lot less painful, it's not a realistic approach for most pet owners. We view our pets as part of the family.

Yesterday, Tina and I put our cat (Lester) down. We brought he and his brother (Lewis) into our home as kittens about 15 years ago. Although we wrestled with the decision, we knew that Lester's time had come. We thought about waiting another week or two to see if things improved. But we knew that we were just prolonging the inevitable. We went forward with it and we're both feeling the loss this weekend. And as a reassurance of Lester's absence, Lewis has been calling for his brother all morning.

Watching your pet pass away as the vet injects him with a sedative overdose is hard. And then seeing the vet put the stethoscope on his chest a few minutes later and confirming that he's gone is even harder.  But it pales in comparison to coming home and not seeing your pet greet you when you walk in the door. Scattered toys, blankets and food bowls will inevitably trigger memories in the following days. And they will all be good memories.....

kw

Labor Day 2023

Labor Day always evokes several emotions for me. On one hand, I'm happy for the long weekend. On the other hand, it signals the unofficial end of summer. Yeah, I know the summers on the east coast can be uncomfortable at times. But there's just something about summer that naturally makes me happy. Maybe it's the abundance of outdoor activity or maybe it's just the sun itself. Either way, I always get a little sad when the season is over. 

When I was a kid, Labor Day also signaled the beginning of the school year. For most kids, the Tuesday after Labor Day was the day everyone made their way to their new classroom. My elementary school did not have air conditioning, so the days of early September could be quite brutal. If you were really lucky, your teacher might bring an oscillating fan into the classroom. It basically just circulated the hot, damp air around the room. But it gave the illusion of a polar vortex. 

Modern day kids are now starting school before Labor Day. Even though I no longer have any skin in the game. I still don't like it. Let the kids have the extra week of summer!

Labor Day was made an official federal holiday in 1894 when it was signed into law by President Grover Cleveland. Initially, the holiday only applied to federal workers. But through subsequent years, all 50 states eventually followed suit and made the first Monday of September an official holiday for all. In case anyone is keeping score, Oregon was the first US state to officially declare Labor Day a holiday.

Of course, in our 24/7 world, not everyone can take the day off. Try to keep that in mind if you're out and about today. Consider throwing an extra bit of "nice-ness" to those folks who are keeping the wheels turning on this holiday weekend. If you happen to be at a bar/restaurant, add a few extra bucks to your tip. If you're at the check-out line at a grocery store, show the cashier some appreciation. If you see a first responder, thank them for what they do today and every day.

There is undoubtedly plenty of blood, sweat and tears that go into making this country so great. Today, we celebrate the hard-working people all over America. It doesn't really matter what particular duty they might perform. Everyone has a role to play.

At the very least, I hope everyone gets a chance to relax a bit today. Fire up the grill, crack a beer, laugh with some friends, etc. Today is your day. Enjoy it!

kw

Jimmy Buffett - Sailing Off into the Sunset

Although I was never a "Parrot Head", I always loved the vibe of Jimmy Buffet's music. There was a special kind of connection that his songs had with the listener. Who could pass up an opportunity to be transported to a tropical island surrounded by good times and boat drinks? Even if it was virtual? Triggering emotions, especially pleasurable ones, is what the best songwriters do. And Jimmy Buffett certainly did that. His songs were a mix of fun and positivity.

We've all heard the term "a picture is worth a thousand words". I also think that a simple sentence can deliver the same result. Buffett made a habit of doing this through his songs. A few examples:

• "Go fast enough to get there, but slow enough to see"
• "Wrinkles will only go where the smiles have been"
• "If the phone doesn't ring, it's me"
• "I'd rather die while I'm living than live when I'm dead"
• "If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane"
• "If life gives you limes, make margaritas"

I was first introduced to Buffett as a young kid when "Margaritaville" was getting a lot of airplay on the local radio stations. I didn't quite get the song as a youngster. I didn't even know what a Margarita was. But nonetheless, I thought it was a catchy tune. Through the years, "Margaritaville" became a crowd favorite at sporting events, karaoke bars and pretty much anywhere. (In the same fashion as the "Bah-Bah-Bah" addition in Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline", I always hated the "Salt-Salt-Salt" line that was added to the chorus of "Margaritaville" by the bar crowds.)

Self-described as "drunken Caribbean rock and roll" and "Gulf and Western", Buffett's music was synonymous with a good time. He produced the same euphoric effect as Bob Marley. Is it just a coincidence that Buffett named his back-up band the Coral Reefers? And more recently, Kenny Chesney took a page out of Buffett's book and launched his own successful beach-themed career. And Buffett's collaboration with Alan Jackson on "It's Five O'clock Somewhere" gave an added dose of inspiration to day-drinkers everywhere.

There was a "Cheeseburger In Paradise" bar/restaurant in my hometown of Pasadena, MD. Tina and I used to love going there for dinner and drinks. With Jimmy Buffett tunes playing over the sound system, it was always a festive time. No doubt, I drank my share of Landshark lager there. Unfortunately, it closed a few years ago and it has since been transformed into "Oscar's Alehouse". Although we still occasionally go there and do enjoy it, it's not quite the same.

Sadly, Jimmy Buffet sailed off for the final time a few days ago at the age of 76. While his faithful Parrot Heads will never get to see him play live again, his music will forever be part of their lives. Similar to a Timex watch, Buffett's music will no doubt keep on ticking for generations to come.

kw

Fireworks on the 4th of July

Growing up, the Fourth of July was always an anticipated celebration. As a kid, I didn’t quite understand all the details of America’s fight for independence. But I knew that America was the place to be, and it was certainly worthy of its own celebration day.

One of the natural benefits of July 4^th was that it happened to occur in the summer. And that meant that there was no school leading up to the holiday. This gave the neighborhood kids ample time to collect their fireworks. Any fireworks transactions were kept on the down-low because they were frowned upon by the local law enforcement. I can understand why as they were dangerous and illegal.

And before we go any further, I don’t want to incriminate myself. I’m telling this story in the first person narrative to make it an easier read 😉.  In true “Dragnet” fashion, the names have been changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty).

The fireworks were usually smuggled into our neighborhood from a neighboring state. We would sometimes get word that “the mule” would be making a run to Pennsylvania to make a purchase. Everyone would fill out their personal laundry list for bottle rockets, firecrackers, Roman candles and M-80’s.

Word would come down a few days later that “Bob” had the fireworks. You would have to know someone “on the inside” who would take you to “Bob’s” house for the purchase. It felt kind of wrong. But having fireworks, even a small collection, gave you some street cred in the neighborhood. So, you would make the journey to Bob’s house by snaking along through back alleys and vacant fields. And when you finally got to the house, there was usually a tunnel between two adjacent rowhomes that would lead you to the back entrance.

Once you reached the back door, the "escort" would announce your presence to Bob. You were then invited into a small kitchen where an assortment of fireworks would be neatly organized on a fold-up table. Although we were indoors, Bob wore a pair of sunglasses. It gave him a bit of a mystique. And no matter who “Bob” happened to be, like Roy Orbison, he always wore sunglasses.

As you approached the table, Bob would look down over his sunglasses and say something like, “You’re not a cop, are you?”

I have always struggled with the urge to blurt out a sarcastic reply. I so wanted to say to Bob, “Well, if we’re being totally honest here, I applied at the Academy. But they told me to come back in six years when I turned 18.”

Of course, I didn’t say this out loud for the fear of getting my ass kicked by Bob. It would also severely jeopardize my chances of leaving with some fireworks. So, I simply said, “No, sir.”

He then made a Don Corleone hand motion as if to say, “Pick out what you want.”

Having a limited budget, I would usually grab about ten packs of firecrackers, a few bottle rockets and three or four M-80’s.

On the way out, Bob would say, “Don’t tell anyone you were here.”

It was kind of a moot point as the whole neighborhood already knew who Bob was and what kind of business he was conducting.

As the morning of the fourth arrived, you could already hear the crack and bang of fireworks through the neighborhood. Occasionally, you would hear the deep concussion of a distant M-80. These things were brutal. You wanted to be extremely careful because they had the power to instantly turn your hand into a lobster claw. Looking back, we were very lucky that no one got seriously injured. Someone once told me that the M-80’s were used to blow fish out of the water. Once the fish was in the air, fishermen would catch them with nets. I personally have never seen any evidence to support this claim. It seems to me that the explosion would turn the fish into sushi.

As the evening rolled in, most of the community would gather at Garrett Park. We would light the remainder of our fireworks in the large open field. As darkness approached, everyone slowly migrated to the edge of the large hill where you could see Baltimore’s Inner Harbor in the distance. It was the perfect spot to witness the “official” fireworks show.

As the colorful fireworks lit up the Baltimore sky, you could almost envision Francis Scott Key penning the lyrics to “The Star Spangled Banner” at nearby Fort McHenry. Celebrating the 4^th in Baltimore back the day was something special.

As the Grand Finale concluded, the neighborhood residents would gather up their belongings and make their way towards home. Everyone got along and it was an overall festive day. And aside from the commotion of the fireworks, things were relatively peaceful. There was a real sense of community back then.

Today, the Independence Day celebrations are pretty much confined to the back yards. And the personal fireworks collections are obtained through a “open-air distributor” on a Food Lion parking lot. Maybe not quite as adventurous as it used to be. But nonetheless, a summer tradition.

Be sure to enjoy yourself today. And take a moment to reflect on the countless sacrifices and acts of bravery that went into making our great country. And please remember our troops who continue to fight to preserve our freedoms. Happy birthday, America!

kw