Funny story. Yesterday afternoon, Katherine and I were in a Starbucks coffee shop in a northern suburb of DFW awaiting our beverages. A man came in wearing a Kiss T-shirt. He may have been a few years younger than I am (58). After he picked up his drink, I motioned to him to come to my table. As he approached, probably puzzled, I leaned forward to whisper, "Have you seen Kiss in concert?" He smiled and replied, "Several times." I grinned and said, "I've seen them seven times." He laughed. I added, by way of explanation: "I grew up in rural Michigan; Kiss practically lived in Michigan; they played Detroit, Flint, and Saginaw all the time." I couldn't resist asking a rhetorical question: "If someone had told you back in 1974, when Kiss burst onto the national scene, that they'd still be playing in full makeup 41 years later, what would you have said?" He laughed again and held up his closed fist for a fist bump. As he walked out, he said, "Take care, brother." Kiss bonding. This is for you, bro.
Music
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