(Warning: adult content) Jason Meyers
LOS ANGELES (TNA) – Gene Simmons, the ’70s music icon from the heavy metal rock band KISS, proudly proclaims that he doesn’t take crap from anybody.
“I answer to no one,” he declares. “Nobody tells me what to do.”
Not the lady in his life, not his kids, not his fellow band members, not any of his many business partners, not even smart-aleck reporters who try to goad Simmons into admitting he’s not quite the rebel he professes to be.
“The last I checked,” the rock-god-turned-entrepreneur says, “the only person who ever had the right to demand anything of me is my mother. In return for giving me life, she’s allowed to torture me. But nobody else can.
“It’s been that way ever since I first peed on the ground and claimed my territory the way any animal does. I can do anything I want and it’s wonderful. I think life should be about having your cake and savoring every bite.”
Which sounds fine and good. But the truth is that the Gene Simmons who’s committed to leading a commitment-free life is as much as façade as the tongue-wagging, fire-breathing, makeup-wearing demon persona he created with KISS.
The man who co-wrote the rock anthem declaring a desire to “rock and roll all night and party every day” is, in fact, something of a square in many ways.
He’s a workaholic business exec who is addicted to expanding his fortune and who can’t allow himself to enjoy even a few days of vacation; he’s a clean-living fanatic who claims he has “never been high or drunk or smoked in my life”; at home, he’s a disciplinarian dad; and although he makes a big to-do about not being legally bound to any woman, he is Shannon Tweed’s man in every way.
That said, he’s still freer than most men – and his philosophy on how to lead an independent life, which he has shared during two seasons of A&E’s “Gene Simmons Family Jewels” and which he will no doubt rehash when he competes in NBC’s “The Celebrity Apprentice” beginning Jan. 3, is absolutely fascinating.
Much of what makes Simmons, 58, so intriguing is his honest-to-a-fault relationship with women.
Simmons, who laid claim in his memoirs to more than 4,600 sexual liaisons, also boasts that he and Tweed, a former Playboy Playmate (Miss November 1981 and Playmate of the Year in 1982), are “happily UNmarried.”
The arrangement has worked for the couple for 24 years, a period during which they’ve had two kids.
“Shannon and I get along great because no one owns the other one,” Simmons says. “Many couples say this, but we really are perfect. We’ve never even raised our voices to each other. Nobody has the right to.”
He and Tweed met at a party at the Playboy Mansion, where he walked in with a Playmate on each arm. He was also seeing Diana Ross at that time. When he and Tweed hit it off, instead of sneaking around, Simmons phoned Ross and said, “I’ve met someone; I’d like to spend some time with her.” And that was that.
It’s been an idyllic relationship ever since, he says.
“But marriage is not an option. Once somebody else has a say in your life, it’s no longer yours.”
That’s why, years ago, the rock star and the pinup drew up a cohabitation agreement “which nullifies all laws of the land.” Actually, there’s nothing unique or rebellious about an unmarried couple with kids these days. But that piece of paper does allow Simmons to avoid two major relationship pitfalls.
Marriage killer No. 1, he maintains, is money: “But the money I make is mine. I decide what to do with it. And nobody – not my mother, not Shannon, not my kids – has squat to say about it. No one can tell me what to do with it, except for the U.S. government, which wants a slice.”
Marriage killer No. 2, he adds, is sex: “Every married man out there leads a secret life. When they go out to strip clubs or to parties, they never tell their wives. ‘If my wife ever finds out, she’ll kill me.’ They all talk like that. Theirs is a world of lies. But I don’t pretend that I don’t flirt with every girl who walks the face of the planet. I’m the only honest man out there.
“Once you take these things off the table,” Simmons continues, “once money and sex are no longer part of the equation, then a relationship really comes down to, ‘Do you still want to be together or not?’”
The same “do you still want to be together?” question also applies to Simmons and his fans. One could argue that Simmons and KISS, who have sold more than 95 million albums, are no longer relevant musically – yet the die-hard fans continue to make KISS a marketing phenomena.
As a result, Simmons, a master of self-promotion, has business interests ranging from record labels and an Indy Racing League sponsorship to KISS coffeehouses and a perfume line.
“It’s way beyond anything we anticipated,” he admits.
Simmons is the consummate showman who loves being famous, loves being outrageous, and loves being idolized by fans. But massaging his ego has never been as important, he says, as gaining and keeping the freedom he dearly cherishes – and the road to absolute freedom, he adds, is paved with currency.
That explains his answer when he was asked what his favorite KISS song is: “My favorite, naturally, is the one that made the most money. The only calculation I’ve ever had in my career is not to be poor. I don’t like that empty feeling in my belly. And I have been there. So failure is not an option.”
(Warning: adult content)