When I was in elementary school, I loved KISS. No, I worshipped KISS. They were every kid's favorite band. They were like real-life cartoon characters that ROCKED.
I had all of their albums on vinyl and 8-track. It seemed like every trip to the mall would include a visit to Musicland, where the latest KISS album would end up going home with me. Once at home, my brothers and I would jump around the living room, re-enacting KISS concerts from beginning to end.
We forced mom and pop to listen to KISS on our family road-trips, as we shouted along to KISS Alive II: "You wanted the best, you got the best ... the hottest band in the land ... KISS!!!" Our parents, probably horrified that their children were singing along to "Christine Sixteen" and "Strutter," were good sports about it. As long as we did our homework, then the devil muic swas okay.
In the fifth grade, I wanted to dress up like a KISS character for Halloween. I had no idea how to pull this off, but I found clown makeup on sale at the mall's toy store. I wanted to go as Gene Simmons or Ace Frehley, since they were the coolest. I opted to go with Peter Criss, though, because it seemed like I could duplicate his cat look. Paul Stanley's star-eyed look would've been easier, but nobody liked Paul. Only girls liked Paul.
The big day arrived and I did my makeup and thought that I looked just like Peter. Luckily, no pictures exist of my costume, or else you'd would wonder why I went out dressed as someone with two black eyes. I had no concept of costume design, so I had to trick or treat in jeans and a t-shirt and in lieu of drum sticks, I had a pair of chopsticks in my back pocket. At each stop, nobody laughed at me, but I don't remember anyone saying, "KISS rocks!" either. At least I scored a buncha candy.
If I'd known they were selling KISS Makeup Kits, though, I'm sure I would've looked exactly like Peter. Maybe this year ...