Bobby & Suzanne @ KISS Alive 35!

When my husband told me that he got tickets for KISS (his 25th time to see them) the day before Thanksgiving, I was less than thrilled. I’m a notorious cheapskate. The price was astonishing, the babysitter cost staggering, traffic possibility nasty, hair and makeup required. After 7 pm, I’m pretty much done for the day. Uggg…

But WOW. Just WOW.

Walking in downtown Los Angeles through the cloying smell of bum piss and illegal street vendor hot dogs reminded me of carefree BB (before breeding) days of Kings Hockey. Suddenly, my constant mom exhausted lifted - I felt young! Energetic! I had on skinny jeans! I’m hip again!

Then came people watching on a grand scale: A two year old in a spot on Ace Freely outfit complete with make-up. A 60 something Hispanic couple in vintage “Lick It Up” t-shirts. LA hotties with gigantic fake boobs and hair extensions. (I assume that Bobby's spank bank is getting a deposit)

We meet with friends from hockey days. One of them is a face painter. With wig. I'm shocked. Really? You think you know someone…

In the row in front of us, four queeny gay guys. My people. We bond. One rolls a fattie and offers it – aside from the many reasons I should not, I decline simply because of the possibility of H1N1 on the soggy doobie. I'm reminded of my age.

Uh oh. Here comes the crowd sitting next to us. Confirmed douchebags. Douche #1 pulls out his iPhone and shows me the set list. Thanks asshole. One of the best parts of a concert is the song anticipation. Someone blows a terrible, terrible fart. Douche #2 laughs and admits guilt.

Buckcherry rocked. Finally eye candy for me - lead singer is smoking hot.

Here comes KISS. The arena is packed, the excitement is physically overwhelming and I get tears in my eyes. If not for waddle necks and old man hands, you’d swear this was 1974 KISS.

Highlights: Paul Stanley shouts “I must have the swine flu because someone back stage called me a pig!” Calling Doctor Love - my fave. And he intro'd it with a topical segue! Nice.

Bobby squeals like a little girl. “He’s coming right over us! He’s coming right over us!” Paul hooks his sliver high heel boots into a large ring and zips 10 feet, maybe less over us. “That’s officially the closest I’ve been to Paul Stanley.” The look on Bobby's face is pure joy - the cost, the babysitter, the traffic doesn't matter - this night is worth it.

Gene Simmons guitar solo - blood dripping from his mouth, his grotesquely long tongue wagging seductively in and out. I furiously condemn any parent who brought a kid under driving age. When Gene flies to a tiny perch high above the stage it's breathtaking.

"Rock and Roll All Nite" is accompanied by explosions, shooting flames and buckets white confetti blown at top speed from the stage. Just as it settles over the floor crowd, more is blown behind us towards the rest of the fans. Douch #1 "That's for the poor people!" Fuck I hate this guy.

But douche can't dampen the mood - KISS is the best concert I've been to since I started going to see live music in 1983 (Rush and Golden Earring in Oklahoma City) Better than, sorry Dave, Van Halen.

Thanks for a great night Bobby! Happy Birthday - I love you!