![]() One day you’ll watch an old show, Better Call Saul, which oddly mirrors the first few years of my career. For one, I never liked bosses, and I didn’t particularly care for my colleagues either, so I set out to start my own business out of school. Over the next few years, I managed to become one of the fastest rising success stories in New York’s corporate vermin industry. “How do you say no to a full ride?” was the question your grandparents asked. I had paused a surprisingly promising, early career as a writer to get perfect scores on a bunch of exams to go to law school. Maybe it was the influence of my childhood pet that ultimately catalyzed my metamorphosis into a lawyer. Of course, the memory bit was very attractive to Grandma and Grandpa who pointed out that Daddy was exceptionally good at taking tests. He especially loved the freedom writers had to tell their stories while living their own lives outside of others’ expectations. This pushed Daddy to love books and writing. He had nearly perfect memory (eidetic, the psychologists later called it) and the ability to string experiences into creative stories. Then we ford what we cannot scaffold.īy twenty, Daddy had discovered his superpowers. It’s a popular cliché, one few manage to bridge. You’ll hold this over me one day, I’m sure. “They fuck you up, your mom and dad,” goes the Philip Larkin poem. So, the next ten years of Daddy’s childhood echoed with a constant reminder of the unasked-for obligation to reclaim that glittering status. Your grandparents left high positions (big, big jobs) there and took menial work to support our new home. ![]() He had landed there with your grandparents when they left the Soviet Union to pursue the fabled and broken American Dream (more on this as you get older). So, when Daddy was your age, he and his cockroach lived in a city called New York. But I’m confident that your beautiful mind will glean more meaning with each passing year. But when the circumstances of your tenement project force adoption over extermination, some details cease to matter all that much. In fact, Daddy couldn’t even tell if any given sibling was, indeed, his Ernest. He looked just like his many, many brothers and sisters. Kiss officially hired Singer to replace Carr.Once upon a time, Daddy had a pet cockroach named Ernest. However, Carr's health continued to decline-and he died in November 1991. Kiss's original plan was for Singer to play drums with the band until Carr was healthy enough to return. After the shoot, Paul and Gene persuaded Carr to take care of his health and not worry about the band. According to Simmons, Carr had lost all his hair due to chemotherapy and had to wear a wig for the shoot. Shortly after the surgery, Carr joined the band to perform in the "God Gave Rock 'N' Roll to You II" music video. He underwent open-heart surgery in April 1991 to remove tumors. ![]() The drum tracks were recorded by Eric Singer, who would become Kiss' full-time drummer following Carr's death.Ĭarr went to the hospital and was diagnosed with heart cancer. ![]() Although he was too ill to play drums on the track, he is featured on backing vocals during the a cappella break, singing the repeated line ".to everyone, he gave a song to be sung", as well as performing drums during the video for the song. It was the last Kiss song to feature longtime drummer Eric Carr before his death three months later after it was released as a single. It is one of the few songs from Kiss' 'non-makeup era' to be played live since the band returned to wearing their trademark makeup in 1996. Though the power ballad covered the original Argent 1973 version "God Gave Rock and Roll to You", it had substantially modified lyrics in the verses, thus the reason behind the slight change in the name of the song. It was later included on Kiss' 1992 album Revenge. God Gave Rock 'N' Roll to You II was covered by Kiss, with the track being released as a single in 1991 from the soundtrack to the movie Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey. The PURE version & not the sucky Bill & Ted integrated version.
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