Feels Like the First Time (28 page)

“That’s awesome, Mike. Now about our budget…” I began to tell him that our budget was approximately zero when he cut me off.

“I don’t want any money. How about instead you give me tickets so I can take my family to see the show?”

Just like that, we had our venue.

Thanks to Jerry, our costumes were coming along nicely. We had our Ace and just needed a new Peter Criss. Our first plan was to use Jerry’s son, Connor. He was an excellent drummer and would have been perfect for the part. Unfortunately, he said no.

Brittany and Jerry remembered their neighbor, Jeff Johnson. They saw him playing drums in his garage and noticed the classic KISS posters on the walls. That weekend, Jerry and I walked to Jeff’s house and asked if he would be interested in playing the Catman in a lip-syncing KISS tribute band. That’s probably not a request you get every day. Jeff took it in stride and told us he would consider it. We took that to mean he wanted to talk it over with his wife. A few days later, Jeff called us and told us he was in.

Against all odds, KISS II was back.

Over the next two months, we spent many days in Mossyrock, getting the G Theater ready for the show and spreading the word. A month before the performance, we held an all-day cleaning party/dress rehearsal. I talked a reporter from Centralia’s
The Daily Chronicle
named Brandon Swanson into spending the day with us. He brought a video camera, a reporter’s notebook and a keen sense of humor. This made him the perfect reporter to cover KISS II. Brandon’s story about us ended up being more than we could have dreamed. The video story he created showed the whole history of the band. It ended up being the third most popular video the
Chronicle
produced that year, trailing only a story about
Making Babies in Glenoma
and
In Search of Sasquatch.
The print story was even better. On the day of our shows,
The Daily Chronicle
featured us like rock ‘n roll gods, sprawled across the masthead on the front page of the paper. Inside, they devoted a two-page spread to the story they called “Mossy Rock City.” It was a little overwhelming for a recently un-retired KISS air/tribute band.

The 30
^th
of July was a day for the ages. That was the day of our first two shows. More importantly, it was also the day Dawn’s divorce became final, and she had to be in court that morning. As if that wasn’t enough, it was also her last day working at ACS. It was a job she had mostly loved for six years. It was an emotional day for everyone, but especially for Dawn.

Jerry arranged to have two full-sized RVs delivered to the parking lot outside The G Theater, so we had a place to crash and get our makeup and costumes on. When we showed up with our full entourage of twenty people, it was like the circus came to town. There had been some concern around Mossyrock about our shows, but most everyone got in the spirit of the occasion.

Someone filed a complaint with the Mossyrock Fire Chief, Matt Hadaller, about unsafe fire conditions in the theater. Matt inspected the site and stuck around to help us make a few corrections. On the day of the show, he put all of us on top of their shiniest fire truck and drove us around town and out to Riffe Lake, with sirens blaring to help promote our show.

We were a little concerned about the turnout for our first show, but there was no need to worry. The crowds were big and enthusiastic. Standing outside the concrete back entrance of the G Theater, waiting to go onstage for the first time in 32 years, I looked at Jerry in amazement.

“This is a life experience we’ll never forget,” Jerry said, standing in full seven-inch platform boots, spandex pants, and a star-covered vest open to the waist.

I smiled my best Gene Simmons demon smile and looked down at the nearly twenty pounds of leather I was wearing, ending in my own platforms that looked remarkably like demon heads.

I looked at Jerry and knew he was the best kind of family you can have in this life–the kind you choose.

“There’s no one else I’d rather do this with, Weib. Now let’s go pretend to be rock stars!”

And we did. 

My only real problem since asking Dawn to marry me was figuring out how I was going to pay for our wedding. When I had my cluster of real estate closings at the beginning of 2010, I’d been afraid I might have to make it last a long time. That proved correct, as I had very few closings for the rest of the year. But my favorite quotation has always been “Jump, and a net will appear”
.
I continued to jump, and the net always appeared. But there were times I was pretty close to the ground when it caught me.

Each time Dawn reminded me of something we needed for the wedding, she would ask, “Are you sure we can do this?”

“Yes, of course,” I answered. Then I would add silently,
I think
.

Every time I felt overwhelmed, a friend or family member would pop up and say, “I want to do this for you.” We were overwhelmed by the support we received. Even though my entire office of realtors was suffering like I was, they still got together and bought us our wedding cake. If not for their generosity, we might have settled for wedding Twinkies.

One of my agents, Lisa Williams, volunteered her twin sister Lori to provide flowers at cost. They turned out exactly like we hoped. She worked miracles for us on our miserly budget.

An old friend from Mossyrock, Sherry Blakely, told us that she often planned weddings and that she wanted to help make our day perfect for us. She supplied almost all the decorations we used. Most importantly, she prompted us to ask questions that hadn’t yet crossed our minds.

Jerry drew five larger-than-life posters representing us at various stages through our lives, and we used them to decorate the hall. He had always been my favorite artist, and having his originals hanging at our wedding meant so much. Jerry’s wife, Lynn, managed to be in the exact right place, helping in exactly the right way, all without attracting attention.

Jeff Hunter proved to be just as adept in the kitchen as he was organizing and managing KISS II. He took over the food preparation for our reception. With his help, we managed to feed 120 of our closest friends for just $300.

Dawn’s friend Jessica showed up at our rehearsal dinner–which was really just pizza–and helped us organize everything, while her husband Josh set up his huge sound system in preparation to be our reception deejay.

Dawn chose her daughter Connie as her maid of honor. Her daughter Dani, my daughter Sabrina, and Dawn’s best friend Sheilah were her bridesmaids. My groomsmen were Jerry, and Connie and Dani’s boyfriends, Jamie and Daniel. My ‘best man’ was my daughter Samy. As my main confidante during the early stages of my reconnection with Dawn, she fully deserved that honor. Plus, she really looked rockin’ in her tux.

Sheilah’s husband Darren, officiated. It was appropriate. In her darkest days, Dawn often turned to Sheilah and Darren for comfort and assistance. They were always there for her, earning my eternal love and gratitude.

When Dawn and I were together in the ‘70s, it often felt like the world was conspiring to keep us apart. Now the opposite was true. It seemed that everyone we knew was working to make sure our day was special. Our karmic scales were finally balancing out.

I spent most of my wedding day in the kitchen helping Jeff and several other friends prepare dinner. This is the price you pay for a big wedding on a budget–you get to be the groom/prep cook. I thought I would be nervous, but a perfect calm settled over me. I had loved Dawn for 35 years. Making it official was nothing to be nervous about.

About two hours before the ceremony, I turned to Jeff.

“I think it’s time for me to write my vows.” He looked at me like I was kidding, but I wasn’t. I always worked best under pressure, and I already had in mind what I wanted to say. I sat down and the words poured out of me. I wrote my vows in fifteen minutes. I still had plenty of time to chop Romaine for our Caesar salad before getting dressed.

Of course, I had spent months obsessing over the wedding music. Nick Cave’s
Into My Arms
played while Brittany and Morrigan Weible lit our candles. I chose Don Mclean’s version of
And I Love You So
for the bridal party entrance. It was a song I often listened to when we were apart, and it captured the spirit of appreciation for how love can change your life and your perspective. The bridesmaids entered to Alan Jackson’s
Red Like a Rose
, which felt perfect and was Dawn’s choice.

Dawn entered to Etta James’s
At Last.
What else could it have been?

There had been much speculation among the wedding party as to when I would cry during the ceremony. But I had no tears as I heard those soaring strings and Etta’s smoky voice. My spirit lifted up and out of me, and I felt like I might follow it to the rafters, like an untethered helium balloon.

Dawn had hoped that her brother Brian would be able to make it up from California to give her away. He wasn’t able to make it, so Jerry filled in admirably.

When Dawn appeared on Jerry’s arm, every eye was on her. She was radiant. She was as lovely a bride as there has ever been. My throat constricted but I held back the tears. I had waited a lifetime to see Dawn walk down the aisle to me and I didn’t want my vision blurred.

Jerry smiled when they finally reached me. He had been one of the first people I confided in when I realized I was falling in love with Dawn all those years ago. It was sweet that he was the one to present her hand to me now.

We stood in front of so many people we loved, held hands, and reveled in the moment. I wanted to stop time to take inventory. My oldest daughter Desi hadn’t been able to make the trip out from Kentucky, but we still had four daughters standing there with us. This was the moment they went from ‘my girls’ and ‘your girls’ to ‘our girls.’ Playing happily at our feet were Samy’s daughter Millie and Dani’s son Yael, our flower girl and ring bearer. They were oblivious to the solemnity of the moment, and were focused only on collecting the flower petals that were scattered around.

Something deep inside me had felt wrong for as long as I could remember. By measures both large and small, that wrongness had slowly dissolved over the previous eighteen months. Now I knew I could release it forever.

I’ve been told that I need to accept what’s in my life, to understand that every grain of sand is exactly where it needs to be. I tilted against that windmill for so long that I wearied of the battle. Now I felt that idea come into sharp focus in my heart.

This time it was Dawn who had a surprise for me on our wedding day. I make speeches regularly in my life, but I don’t know if Dawn had ever spoken in front of a large crowd. I needed my reading glasses and my notes to get through my vows, but Dawn stared at me squarely in the eyes and spoke from her heart, with no notes at all.

What a journey - just a few years ago, I never would have believed I could be standing here with you. If we hadn’t been separated by fate, I believe we would still be together today, but I don’t know if we would have this same appreciation and love for each other.

You are my best friend, my love, my soul-mate. Between us, we have brought five of the most beautiful and strong women into the world–our daughters, our family. We have a love for each other that grows stronger every day.

I have two promises: I promise to thank God every morning for bringing you back to me, and I promise to appreciate everything you are and everything you do for me. Thank you for coming with me on this journey.

With tears running down my face, it was my turn to speak.

Dawn Adele, I love you more each day. That means I love you more at this moment than I ever have before, yet this is the least I will ever love you in our life together.

These are my vows: I vow to always get things down off the top shelf for you without making fun of you because you can’t reach it. I vow to always open doors for you, even your car door when it’s raining really hard. I vow to bring you your first cup of coffee every day for the rest of your life. Most important to you, I vow to always be your protector from spiders large and small.