In my teen years my girlfriends & I obsessed over so many of the young heart-throbs, but we also liked guys in rock bands, one band especially liked was KISS. We waited downtown all morning on a Saturday, waiting for them to come out of their hotel room, and when they did, we had our camera & pens ready for them to sign our pictures....but alas, they came out without makeup on (before the unmasking of later years) and each rocker had a gal on each arm...we were told sternly by the body-guards, no pictures or we'll break your camera, yet when we offered up our pictures & pens for them to sign, sorry, too busy, and they got in their limo & drove away. I promptly gave away all my KISS records & vowed never, ever to go to one of their concerts. Now when I see Gene Simmonds on TV with his own show I also refuse to watch it....I guess they really, really let us kids down way back then, but I imagine there's still some fans who will still buy into their whole sctick still....but not me.
And They Called It 'Puppy Love' ...
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"One wonderful day, when I had started to grow weary of my vigil, it showed up. It came on cream-colored paper with Paul's name embossed on the back of the envelope. My hand shook, my heart raced, I thought I was on my way to a personal relationship with the man I loved.
"The letter was typewritten (not Xeroxed!!) by Paul's assistant at the time, one Ian E. Hoblyn. He told me that Paul 'appreciated my kind sentiments' and regretted that he couldn't write me himself because he received so many letters and his schedule was so busy, but he wanted me to know that he was glad to hear from me. Ian signed it in ink himself. I could picture Paul personally dictating that letter to his assistant, wanting me to know that he cared for me.
"I had never been so happy, to date. I spent the last part of the summer writing Paul a song, a poem of my love for him, how he had changed my life and how I understood him. Once more, the fear and trepidation and harassment of the long-suffering mailman.
"After several weeks, again, when I was giving up all hope, I got it. Except this time it was a 7-by-11 manila envelope, in it a black-and-white glossy headshot of Paul, with another letter from Ian, again telling me how much Paul had 'appreciated my kind sentiments' and how sorry he was that his schedule didn't allow him to write back himself. And again, it was typewritten, with Ian's personal signature. It was the exact same letter Ian had written to me earlier, but he had the kindness to include that picture. I cried over that picture, and I never wrote Paul again.
"I don't remember now exactly what I wrote. But I still treasure the letters I received in return. I'm almost positive that Paul never saw my letters—I guess I'll never know for sure. I do know this for sure: Paul Simon had a very kind, sensitive assistant. Thank you, Ian E. Hoblyn, wherever you are, you who took the time to write the letters that made a young girl's life so much happier."
© 2008









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