Being a son of the South and raised right here in Atlanta, this guitar really gets me excited. Why, you ask? Well first off, there isn't another Kiss fan more rabid than I (outside of Ray, of course). It was Ray and I (before we even knew each other) that were standing outside Peaches Records and Tapes in downtown Atlanta. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation on that rainy November day in 1978, as Gene stepped inside the store to promote his solo album. As I recall, I never did get to meet him because the line was way too long but as a surprise to us all, Gene rolled in without his trademark makeup, flashed us the devil horns and went behind a barrier wall so he could not be photographed. He greeted more than a hundred eager fans and then just like that, was gone. I, along with hundreds of other fans made out with my three solo albums and a gift bag with none other than the solo albums depicted boldly on the front of a thin plastic carry- out bag. Three, you say? Of course, you know word on the street was that Peter had gone all Gene Krupa on our young asses and what would we have known about a jazz drummer except they used those funny looking brush sticks that look like a man needs to be using at one of those fancy Japanese restaurants. Kiss fan you ask?  Die hard, no doubt. The second reason I have a great affection for this guitar is, this exactly like the one Paul played during halftime at the 1999 Superbowl. As you may recall, that was the Superbowl that pitted the Denver Broncos vs the Atlanta Falcons and since Kiss were playing at halftime, in my mind it was a shoe- in that "WE" (the Falcons, mind you) would reign supreme in the annals of footballdom. How could it not be, my favorite team and my favorite band, together at last?. In my mind, it didn't take a medium to sort through the tea leaves; Everything pointed directly to Falcons victory and a little "Rock-n-Roll All Night, ova heeyah". In the end, my Birds got a beat down at the hands of John Elway and a part time street walker who moonlighted as a full time cop. I had over 40 fanatical fanatics and 20 bags of chips and gallons of dip, so much so that three years later, we were still trying to get the taste off our lips. The birds went down on that fateful day in January, but the Paul Stanley Black Diamond lives on in infamy...