Thanks, Coach Bastian!

On this day of thanks-giving, I would like to honor the man who inspired my lifelong love of running: Coach Barry Bastian of Port Richmond High School in Staten Island, New York City. If there was any clique I belonged to as a shy, pimple-faced teenager, it would probably be "Rocker." Rock music was my obsession, and did the bare minimum in school to pass. This included gym class. There was a moment, after a required lap around the track, when the P.E. teacher pulled me aside and said, "I've been watching you on the track, and you've got a natural talent for running. I'm the track coach, and I want you to try out for the track team." He was persuasive enough for me to commit to tryouts, which I did well enough at to be able to join the varsity track team. I was now a "Rocker" and a "Jock." After many, many practice runs back and forth over the Bayonne Bridge, and several track meets, I was hooked on running. I never won a race, but the determination and competition (and the "runner's high") gave me the confidence to be a more well-rounded and healthy person for life -- just like Coach Bastian promised me.

Using the Internet, I've been trying to "track" Coach Bastian down, with no luck so far. It seems he was fired from Port Richmond High School a few years ago by the New York City Department of Education for deviating from micromanaging city procedures. Coach Bastian is apparently challenging this in federal court, and the city is stalling. Until then, details about this controversy are hush-hush.

I know Coach Bastian would much prefer being at the track than being in a court. Someday, I hope be able to contact him and tell him how much his coaching has inspired me. I don't think I ever told him, "Thanks, Coach!"

Here's an assortment of photos of me at various runs over the last several years. This healthy lifelong hobby of mine may never have happened without Coach Bastian.

Paul Stanley At The Fillmore

As a veteran of the KISS Army, it was my duty and my pleasure to see my favorite KISS member, Paul Stanley, perform a solo show at the Fillmore tonight. He's promoting his new album, Live To Win, which has been growing on me. It's good, not great, but maybe I'm comparing it to a high standard -- one of my all-time favorite hard rock albums, his 1978 KISS side-project solo album. Yes, 28 years is a long time between solo albums, but he's been busy with KISS in the meantime. KISS has run its course, so now Stanley can run his own show. "Live To Win" is a straight-up hard rock album, with a couple of "power ballads" thrown in. It's old-school rock with contemporary flourishes. Although all the songs are finely crafted and hook-filled, the title track remains my favorite. "Live To Win" typifies the take-charge self-empowerment theme of much of his music, in the lyrics and in the power chords. And his unique voice, while off-putting to some, is as strong and entertainingly brassy-campy-macho as ever. (His speech alone has its fans -- there's a well-loved underground collection of over an hour of just his stage banter called "People Let Me Get This Off My Chest.")

Somehow I found the money to buy all four of the KISS solo albums in 1978, and I played them all throughout my senior year in high school. Paul Stanley's was my favorite. (Ace Frehley's was a close second, then Gene Simmons, and in last place, Peter Criss.) "Tonight You Belong To Me," the album opener, just begs to be played as loud as possible. After a gentle intro, the song absolutely slices the air with one of the meanest guitar riffs ever. Another top song is "Wouldn't You Like To Know Me?" which, believe it or not, gave me the motivation to approach a beautiful and leggy Italian in my math class. I will always associate this song with Christine, who became a high school girlfriend of a few months. Ah, memories ... I like this album as much today as I did in high school (although I could live without the Barry Manilow-style ballad "Hold Me, Touch Me").

Anyway, on to tonight's concert ...

Slunt, the opening act, played a brief but powerfully "post-punk bitch metal" set. This New York City band is a foursome, but the estrogen half, guitarist/singer Abby Gennet and bassist Jhen Kobran, deservedly get all the attention. I fired off the two shots (see below) and was promptly tapped on the back by a Fillmore employee: "Sir, you're gonna have to leave your camera at coat check." Busted! I complied, worked my way back to my friends who saved my spot in the tight crowd for me, and enjoyed the rest of Slunt -- and Paul Stanley -- with my ears and eyeballs only.




I've seen KISS countless times, and this was quite a change from being far away from the stage in a massive crowd, seeing Paul Stanley in greasepaint surrounded by over-the-top pyrotechnics. Once I got used to seeing Paul Stanley up close, casual, relaxed, confident, and without all the choreographed glitz, I found it worked quite well. He's a natural showman for large crowds and more intimate ones. (This was evident years ago on KISS' MTV Unplugged segment.) He opened strong with "Live To Win" and performed my favorites off his 1978 album. Many KISS classics were performed too.

Here's the Set List:
Live To Win / Hide Your Heart / A Million To One / Got To Choose / Move On / Bulletproof / Tonight You Belong To Me / Lick It Up / Wouldn't You Like To Know Me / Magic Touch / I Still Love You / Strutter / Every Time I See You Around / Do You Love Me? / I Want You / Love Gun / Lift / Detroit Rock City / Goodbye

He bantered easily with the audience, and gyrated with his well honed moves. He frequently would toss his guitar pick up in the air, catch it in his mouth, and spit it out to the crowd. (Alas, I have no such souvenir.)

The following photos could have been from my camera had it not been confiscated. Instead, here are some "official" shots from the concert:


After the show, I retrieved my camera, tipped the "coat check chick," and told myself I'd stop smuggling my camera into concerts.

But I don't always listen when I talk to myself. That's Rock and Roll; that's Living To Win!

Letter To The Bride And Groom

Dear Bride and Groom:

Every time I go for a long run, I seem to have interesting encounters with people or nature. For example, on my run today, I was running up Hyde Street when a taxi from the opposite direction slowed down and stopped right next to me. A lady in the back looked at me, with her hand up, holding a wad of cash. We briefly locked eyes before I continued on my pace. Although I was in my mental running "zone," with Joan Jett blasting on the iPod, I didn't look back, but I wondered about what just happened. Was the lady offering me money for something? Or was she just about to exit the cab and pay the driver? It remains a mystery.

Anyway, this letter is about my encounter with you two on my run. You were on the sandy beach, barefoot but resplendent in wedding dress and tuxedo, being photographed and filmed in a carefree romp along the beach when I entered the frame with my own carefree (but unscripted) run. Only when I heard the videographer yell "cut!" did I realize what was going on. With the San Francisco Bay backdrop, those shots must have been perfect, until yours truly bops into the frame, focused only on my stride and my music. Runners sometimes call this the "third wind" or the "runner's high." Nevertheless, I should have paid more attention to the details ahead of me.

So I wish to apologize for invading your wedding photos and video. I really do hope it did not ruin your wedding album.

Sincerely,

FreeThinker

P.S. If you kept the photos and video, could you send a copy my way? It would be the perfect imagery to accompany this post.