A Global Army of Veteran Rockers
So Mike Nesmith. Yeah. WTF, right? Private, reclusive, mysterious for many years. A couple of years back, he got on Facebook and he posts long, winding tales about himself, his dogs, his home, his past, and a really lovely Mother's Day post last weekend. Photos go up. The whole thing. It's like he disappeared and then came back on his own terms. I didn't know how to take it. I'm a huge Monkees fan, no doubt. And, being a woman/girl of a certain age, I have a favorite and that favorite is Mike. It's this weird mix of hormonal stew, sense memories from being a kid, familiarity with his music, and nostalgia for a time before I was even born. I also liked his droll take on the wacky humor the Monkees had to portray on the show/in the movie.
Long intro over.
Davy Jones passed away suddenly last year. I was kicking myself that I didn't go to the show with Mickey, Peter, Davy mere months before. I consoled myself with the records.
And then: the announcement that Mike Nesmith was going to tour with the Monkees.
Not just one show in L.A. but a TOUR. Even though I saw him with my own eyes (second row, center, thankyouverymuch) I still can't believe it happened. There he was with a white guitar singing "Listen to the Band". They Monkees have been going deep in the catalog on the last couple of tours, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Incredible show.
And then: Mike Nesmith is going on tour fronting his own band, performing songs from his entire career.
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!? Seriously. (Although, if Neutral Milk Hotel can announce a tour, anything is possible.)
With Mike's shows, a limited number of "conversation passes" were available. For extra money, stay after and meet Mike. One-on-one MEET MIKE NESMITH. I don't think I can convey what this felt like to me, to get one of the passes (I woke up at 2:30AM to do it!) and to bring my Head vinyl and my Tapeheads DVD and a LaserDisc of Elephant Parts (for a friend,) and MEET MIKE NESMITH. Although this wasn't quite the same reaction as the one I had when I finally met Rick Springfield (I turned white as a sheet and almost fainted,) it came pretty close.
I'm older now, 43, and I've been through some things that make me not get so nervous when I meet people. That said, when I looked him in the eye and shook his hand, I slowly said, "I can't believe it's you." Mike replied, "Oh, it's me alright." I kept staring at him like he was a fairy. Like he would disappear if I blinked. I didn't really have anything pressing to ask him or to tell him, I just wanted to bask in the glow for a bit, get my photo, and state my appreciation. I did that. It was incredible.
As for the performance, it was stirring and fascinating. Each song was preceded by the description of the "movie" he saw when he wrote it. It was a very unique presentation of his songs and the audience hung on every word. Vocally, he's all there. His eyes twinkled and he was a delight, just as you would imagine him to be. I know people toss around the phrase, "Now I can die happy," and maybe I couldn't quite say that . . . but the biggest name on my list is now crossed off and that's a feeling of contentment I haven't had in a long time.
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