In the Midst of the Chaos...

I asked my wife to marry me in October of 1992.  She is four years younger than me - a bigger deal when I was 19 and met her at Band Camp (yes, band camp) - then it is now.  One of her favorite stories was about the first concert she ever attended.  It was a late September wholesome family outing.  Mom and Dad drove her and her two older brothers up from LaSalle / Peru, IL (a few hours Southwest of Chicago) to the International Amphitheater on the south side of Chicago to see...KISS.  Ken, my wife's oldest brother was 16 and fully inducted into the KISS army.  Calling Ken a mere follower of Team Gene, Ace, Peter and Paul would almost be a disservice to him.  The Amphitheater in Chicago was a concrete block of a building.  Any rock show was going to shake those walls, but KISS took it to a new level - or so I hear.  The line of the night, as my mother-in-law tells the story, is when my wife (her then eight year old daughter) looked up at her and said, "Mommy - they're playing in my stomach."  But despite the sound level and the "funny smelling smoke," the family marched on into a concert experience that still gets talked about during Thanksgiving dinner.  So, now that I was marrying into this family, how did I get on the good side of my future father and brother-in-law?  I took them to see KISS. 

KISS was on tour (sans make-up) in support of Revenge throughout the majority of 1992.  With supporting acts Great White and Trixter on the bill, they made their way back through the Midwest - with a stop at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago in late November.  Jeff McClusky and Associates, my first job in music promotion, had been hired to work the new Trixter single, "Road of a Thousand Dreams" to see if it could gain some traction at radio.  I reached out to the local MCA Records promotion rep to see if I could get three tickets to the show and some passes to meet the band.  Even though it was a business gesture, my ulterior motives were clearly in place - and I am sure that didn't go unnoticed with this request.  MCA Records came through for me and with tickets and backstage passes in hand, our night was set. 

Bands usually meet fans before or after a concert.  Some have done meet and greets while a support act is on stage, but I have found that to be pretty rare out of respect for their fellow touring brethren.  The tour manager usually scouts out a room backstage or in an adjacent hallway so that fans and winners can be lined up in an orderly fashion to say hello, take pictures and maybe - depending on the guidelines set up by the band and artist management - get something autographed.   For this particular show, the meet and greet was on the main level in a back hallway of the UIC Pavilion prior to the show.  Trixter was scheduled to be on first at 7:30 so we had to get to the venue when doors opened at 6 p.m. to make sure we had time to meet the label rep and say hello to the band.  We joined the already 40 or so fans on the main concourse that were lined up and ready to head downstairs to meet Trixter.  Security identified our meet and greet group by the rectangular, blue backstage passes that were stuck to our shirts.  After short wait, we started down the stairs to the main level.

Exiting the stairwell on the main level backstage was like playing an advanced game of Frogger.  There were so many people walking by the doorway, we weren't sure we would be able to break through the stream of fans.  With my future father-in-law leading the three of us, we were the end of the line as far as our meet and greet group was concerned.  I'm not sure how we missed sticking with the line, but instead of stepping through everyone, we watched as our excited and anxious Trixter meet and greeters disappeared into the crowd - leaving us on our own.  In my 20+ years in the music industry, I have still never experienced a more crowded and chaotic backstage area than that night at the UIC.  We edged out into the back hallway of the arena and stood up against the wall to survey to situation.  I asked a few different guys wearing venue security jackets where we needed to go for the Trixter meet and greet, but all I got was a blank stare from each of them.  I wasn't sure what to do next but I knew it wasn't going to include anything with Trixter.

I spotted the Mercury records rep trying to herd a small group of VIP's through the stream of fans and into a room off of the hallway.  He looked completely frazzled.  After having my share of nights directing meet and greets where you need to make sure the high level VIP's are happy and get the "full treatment," I can look back and sympathize with what he was going through.  We figured we would stay put for a little longer just in case we saw the MCA rep or someone from our group come back looking for us…even thought we knew it was a long shot.  But after a few minutes we decided that a beer and some open space would be the better option.  As we turned to head back into the stairwell, the Mercury rep came back out of the room followed by Gene Simmons and his bodyguard. 

"Sam.  Sam.  Sam!!" I yelled with increasing intensity over the noise.  He spotted me against the wall and held up his finger telling me to wait a minute.  I pointed to my group and then to Gene to see if he would let us say hello.  My brother-in-law Ken, always a cool customer, was just that….but I know his heart jumped and his stomach turned over.  Sam looked back over at me and shook his head "no" and pointed ahead.  I could barely make it out as he mouthed the word "interview."  This just wasn't our night.  Ken was a good sport about it but I could tell he was bummed.  My father-in-law looked a bit disappointed as well.  I think he had told some of his colleagues he was going to the KISS show and this would have made a great story.  Gene was now being recognized by everyone - which caused a rush toward Sam and Gene's bodyguard.  They pushed forward and carved a path through the crowd and into a secured area where Gene was scheduled to do a radio interview.

Ken asked if we could wait to see if Gene would have a chance to say "Hi" on the way back - assuming he was coming back - so we stayed put against our wall.  It was still pretty crowded but the three of us had been able to make our way into a bit of a corner and carve out some space against some backstage equipment and the wall.  We watched and commented on different fans backstage, empathized as Trixter's band crew tried to get through to the stage with equipment and generally amused ourselves while we waited.  Great White must have just finished their meet and greet because a long line of winners were being escorted back upstairs into the pavilion.  As the final few went by, someone in the group either tripped or got pushed from behind, and ended up poking me in the right eye.  I covered my eye but the pain wasn't too bad.  My bigger concern at that point was my contact lens.  I lifted my head and slowly moved my hand from in front of my eye.  I opened it to blurred vision.  I had a lens in my left eye but nothing in my right eye.  I immediately dropped down to one knee and felt around on the concrete floor.  I had a pit in my stomach.  Crowded, hot, busy and no one had seen what had happened.  In the midst of the chaos, as I frantically looked around for any sign of the lens, I heard a voice say "It's near your foot."  I looked and felt around for a second, but I didn't find it.  There wasn't a lot of light and I was now half blind.  "Your right foot - it is right next to your right foot" the voice said again.  I lightly brushed my hand over the floor and it caught my thumb.  Holy Crap - there it is!!  Totally relieved, I stood up - right into the face of Gene Simmons. 

"Holy shit.  I mean, uh, thanks.  How in the hell did you see that?  You must have been six feet away?!" I said to him. 

"I'm not sure - I just did" Gene said back to me.

No one had seen me get poked in the eye or drop to the floor because they were all looking at Gene Simmons coming back down the hall.  I thanked him again and asked if he would take a few quick pictures with us.  Sam, the Mercury Records Rep, who was still with him and the bodyguard, snapped that they weren't taking any pictures and that they just didn't have time.  He was definitely having a bad night.  Gene gave Sam a look like "Don't fuckin' tell me what I can or can't do" and then very politely (almost as if to stick it to Sam) looked back at the three of us and said "I would be happy to."

After a few very quick off-center pictures, Sam, Gene and the bodyguard slipped back into the room down the hallway.  We stood there a bit dumbfounded not really sure what to say.  We had started the night in line to meet Trixter and ended having Gene Simmons save me a couple hundred bucks and assure that I would still be able to (literally) see the show.  After re-telling the story to each other right after it had happened - like none of us had actually been there, we made our way back up the stairs to the concourse to grab a beer.  By this time, Trixter was already on stage and Great white would be up next.  We made our way to our seats and watched the show while waiting for KISS to hit the stage.  They ripped through a massive set list closing out the night with "Love Gun" and the Star Spangled Banner…as the on stage replica of the Statue of Liberty crumbled giving way to a skeleton hand giving the crowd the finger.  I thought the place was going to implode as everyone erupted in approval.  Rock and Roll - KISS style. 

That was the only time I saw KISS in concert but it was a damn memorable one for me.  When the KISS conversation comes up at Thanksgiving, the 1992 concert, failed Trixter meet and greet or the contact lens don't come up…"Mommy, they're playing in my stomach" is always the line that wins the night.  My take-away?  As much fun as we had, nothing beats a wholesome family outing to see KISS.