Me & The Monkees

I was just reading one of my favorite blogs, Little Fears, written & cleverly illustrated by Peter Edwards (buy his teeshirts! buy his books!). Anyhow, here is his post, which took me back in time, and inspired me to write what follows.


Spider looked miserable.

“What’s up?” asked Fuen.

“My new girlfriend is leaving me,” sighed Spider. “She says it’s because I’m too obsessed with The Monkees.”

“Oh dear,” replied Fuen.

“At first I thought she was kidding,” cried Spider. “Then I saw her face….”



Back in elementary school, my girl friends and I had a little contest going: who could be the first to purchase the latest album from (siggghhhh!) The Monkees. We would then spend entire Saturdays listening to their albums, over and over again. You could practically see the red hearts  ♥♥♥ beaming from our eyes, as when Davy would fall in love with yet another-girl-who-wasn’t-us on their kitschy TV show.  Oh, Davy: how could you?

The thrill of my lifetime, at least up to that point, was when my dad took me to SEE THE MONKEES IN CONCERT!!! Now, you must realize that loud music and strobe lights were the stuff of his nightmares. This was a huge sacrifice and show of love from him to accompany me. When we arrived at the Kiel Auditorium in St. Louis, Missouri, on the Day of Infamy, August 5, 1967, we were seated in a box overlooking the main floor. Our neighbors were other dads and their overly-excited, dressed-up daughters (I mean, what if I met Davy, and he fell in love and wanted to marry me? I had to look good, for a flat chested 11 year old.)

As soon as Davy, Mickey, Mike and Peter took the stage, the crowd commenced to a fit of screaming that was shrill and high pitched enough to attract every dog within miles. These stupid girls were so loud, that our little box of relatively well-behaved young ladies began to complain. You couldn’t hear the singing!! I was so angry and yelling at the crowd to “SHUT UP!!” No one could hear me, of course. I discovered that if you put a finger deep into each ear, fingers almost touching each other mid-brain, you could block out the screamers and still (barely) hear the music. We all sat with our fingers in our ears for the remainder of the concert. As we left the auditorium, I thanked my dad with true sincerity, but he was looking almost green from the noise and psychedlic light show. I had my Monkees Tour Program clutched to my rapidly-beating heart, thinking back to the Michael Nesmith song that had me worrying for their safety. I would hate to be responsible for the outcome that these lines promised …

This one thing I will vow ya
I’d rather die than to live without ya…

Wait for me! I was growing up as fast as possible.



16 thoughts on “Me & The Monkees

  1. Ah that made my day. I love the era these posts are set in. I’m npot far behind you. I grew up in the 70s and lived for the Monkees show. As boy bands go, they were a perfect storm. I’m fairly sure it’s the only boy band I’ve ever been into, being a hardcore alpha male stud and all They were all my favourites. Though I think secretly Michael Nesmith was my real favourite, which probably should’ve been a warning sign looking back. His mother did invent tippex though I seem to remember so … nothing. It was just an excuse to mention that I know that. And now someone will say I’m wrong about that too.
    That high pitched shrieking must be really bloody annoying when you want to hear the music. Also, how cool of your dad to go with you. My dad would’ve never done anything like that for me. We only got to places or films he wanted to go and see.
    Once again I thoroughly enjoyed the hilarity interleaved between the words.
    Ah crap – a wasp just flew in to harass me for the third time today. Did you send it cos the reply was getting too long? I bet that’s it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jedda says:

    Wow! I am so impressed with this super fun story! But you also tell so much detail about that moment! Wow! I wish I was there!
    Amazing how writing moments create worlds hey? And the reader will make their own decision in the end! Wow! Let’s have a coffee


  3. Jedda says:

    I scream all the time. Especially when I am overrun with ridiculous emotions. Thankfully I am pragmatic and when I see the possible truth if something I shut down and will never ever ever ever go there again.

    My trust is a small little wren. To let it be watched and stamped in and do nothing makes me never wish I ever have loved.

    Liked by 1 person

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