By Jacob Starowicz
Contributing Writer
This past weekend, I planned on spending a relatively uneventful night with my girlfriend filled with Forensic Files and a game or two of “Sorry” with her roommates at Mercyhurst University. As luck would have it, her favorite classic hard rock band “KISS” was performing at the nearby arena, not even ten minutes away from the school. Now, I’ve never been a classic rock fan. The only time I’d listen to it is when I’m driving somewhere with my father. Anyway, we felt spontaneous, so I agreed to go and she bought the tickets then proceeded to fan girl over Facebook messenger for an hour.
Saturday arrived and after some printer hijinks and rushing to get ready, we finally went on our way to the arena. As we made our way to the parking garage, I saw Black Friday-type lines stretching far from the arena filled with locals and nearby KISS fans alike. I stepped out of the car and the first thing I saw was a 6’6” man in full Gene Simmons KISS regalia.
Once we got in line, the wait wasn’t even as bad as we thought it would be. We just had to get past the stench of non-filtered cigarettes and vape smoke, then we were basically inside after what felt like 5 minutes.
We arrived inside to the warm up band “The Dead Daises” rocking out on stage and performing their hearts out; the energy was high and we couldn’t help but to feel the same. The seats were amazing for the price, and we had a great view of the stage. About an hour passed, and we were standing to the intense sound of the speakers shouting: “Are you ready? You wanted the best, you got the best, the hottest band in the world, KISS!”
Just like that, the black drape spelling out the word “kiss” fell down to the stage. Fireworks celebrated in the background while the smokescreen revealed the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees to the sound of “Detroit Rock City”.
Every fan was going wild, including my girlfriend, while I was awkwardly trying to figure out how to act at a classic rock concert. As the show went on I found that just screaming “ya” and doing the rock on horn sign with my fingers sufficed. These men were true performers, captivating everyone in attendance. I found myself shamelessly yelling the choruses of “Shock Me,” “Do You Love Me?” and “Lick It Up.”
But what stood out to me most was how much they catered to the fans. These men weren’t there for the money, because they are very well off. They were there to satisfy the older fans who attended before and made sure, in the words of Paul Stanley, “You never forget your first kiss,” for the new fans like myself.
Near the end of the show they played the national anthem, donated $150,000 to the veterans in America and received the key to the city of Erie, Pennsylvania. And as “I Wanna Rock N Roll All Night” played, streamers and confetti decorated the arena, while accompanied by a few more fireworks.
starowjj15@bonaventure.edu
