Short Stories: KISS edition

Those of you who live in Utah, or have lived in Utah, or are strangely familiar with the ways of the Utah, know that secular holidays are NEVER celebrated on Sunday. Christmas is fine, but Halloween and 4th of July always get the bump. This isn’t a terrible thing, really, because instead of just one holiday, you get a full weekend of celebrating. Sometimes you get what I call the Hanukkah effect, where the holiday gets spread out over a week or more, and that’s when the good times really roll.

Fake holidays in Utah are one of my favorite things about that place.

Well, as luck would have it, I was living in Provo during a summer where July 4th fell on a Sunday, so the state geared up for Fake Independence Day, or Findependence Day. The Sugar House area was holding a street fair of sorts on Saturday afternoon before the main fireworks event, so Emily, Adam, Jared, and I headed up to check out the goings on.

Upon our arrival to a certain street, we noticed a stage being set up for a musical performance of some kind. We thought to our collective selves that perhaps we should stick around and see who was playing. Just for kicks. So we browsed in a record store for a while (which, now that I think about it, was probably the real reason we ended up going there in the first place) and headed back out into the street.

When what to our wondering eyes should appear but the most amazing Findependece Day surprise imaginable:

A KISS tribute band in full KISS regalia was getting ready to play on the aforementioned stage.

There was no way we were going to miss this.

So we stayed. And they played. And they weren’t terrible, really. Not that I would’ve minded much, because four dudes dressed up like KISS and playing “Detroit Rock City” in the middle of Salt Lake City on a Saturday afternoon to celebrate the 4th of July on what was actually July 3rd is one of the more bizarre confluences of events I’d ever experienced to date, and I was not about to leave on account of mediocre guitar playing.

And then, as if just basking in the randomness of the moment wasn’t enough, the unthinkable happened.

They finished one song, and Fake Gene Simmons announced that they were going to need some help with their next one. He scanned the audience. “You!” he said, pointing. “You, in the black shirt! Come on up here! And bring your friends!”

And he was pointing at me.

And then my brain exploded. Fake Gene Simmons wanted me to sing onstage with him and the rest of Fake KISS on Fake Independence Day. What the WHAT??

Jared and Adam were stoked. Emily…well, I really don’t know her feelings on the matter. But the four of us made our way up onto the stage, where we noticed that not only was Fake Gene Simmons actually wearing ENORMOUS platform thigh-high boots, but that all the members of Fake KISS were quite old and you could see their wrinkles through the face paint. It was gross. And a little sad. But still a little awesome, because how many old dudes are still living the dream like that? Am I right?

So they started to play. At first I was a little worried that I wouldn’t know the song (I’m not exactly a KISS aficionado, so it wouldn’t have surprised me in the least) but it was none other than that great rock anthem, “Rock and Roll All Nite.” Which, fortunately, I knew. Because if I didn’t, it could’ve ended badly:

(Note: this clip says parental discretion is advised. It’s unnecessary. Just in case you were concerned.)

But no. I knew that the words were, “IIIIII wanna rock and roll all niiiiite and party ev-er-y day!” And I sang them with much gusto.

And it was the best Findependence Day ever.

The end.

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