IT WAS ON THE TIP OF HIS TONGUE: A FABULIST FICTION TALE OF THE LAST KISS CONCERT
THE LAST KISS'S KISS (UNWIN FICTION BY STEPHEN WEIR) It was May 2nd, 1974, when Kiss made their first appearance in Detroit. We met that night. Kiss couldn't afford bodyguards, so she had no trouble climbing onto the stage. Gene Simmons, weighed down in his new glam and glitter heavy metal costume, needed help from Paul Stanley to kiss her and toss her back. Wearing a wide-assed smile, she crowd-surfed across the mosh pit right into my arms. We're still together. Kiss still matters to us Big Time. The Starchild. Demon. Space Ace. Catman. There is no room left on our bodies for another tattoo. When news broke that the band was performing their very last concert at the Casino, I made a solemn vow to her. We would be there. No way no how could we buy tickets. We live off our Pensions, but lie, cheat or steal we will see the Last Kiss. She was going to kiss and crowd-surf one last time, no matter who I had to kill. We decided to go old school. Stoned. Its been decad