I Dream of Paul Stanley

I ride up to Paul Stanley's Tuscan-style villa, greeted by him, his wife (Erin), and his two boys. "We enjoy entertaining," he says to me, "but we don't go out." I smile appreciatively, looking over his 9000-square-foot home, perched high in the hills. "There's no Viper Room. For us, it's the diaper room," he adds, and we all laugh the tired laugh of new parents. We walk past the outdoor fountains and column-lined loggia that blend into the landscape, and I look out onto the view of the Pacific. "It's so much like Europe," Paul notes, "that you'd be fighting what's natural in the terrain to build something else." Inside, I'm taken aback by the hand-painted frescoes that abound, especially the one in the dining room depicting celestial gods and goddesses among the clouds. "Tiepolo," he says, not needing to say more. Colin, their four-month-old, smiles up at his father, who meets the child's gaze but speaks to me: "There's something comfortable about being in a place that has a soul." The star that frames his eye is perfect.


Wait, that was no dream, it was a USA Today article featured in Blabbermouth.net.