Magazine: Monkee Spectacular #8
Author: Guess Who
Editor: Ralph Benner
Published: December 1967
Publisher: Laufer Publishing Co.
Find Out What Happens When a Fan Surprises the Famous Four!
Ever since I first saw the MONKEES, I have always wanted to meet them. But I waited until now, and I’m glad I did, because I got to meet them on my eleventh birthday. Better than a party!
I knew the MONKEES were back in town after their tour, and starting a new record. For months, I had been carefully studying the layout of RCA’s recording studios, trying to figure a way to get inside, past the security guards sure to be there for a MONKEE session. Of course, once I made it in, I knew I’d have to find a place to hide, but that would have to wait until I got in, and saw what it was like.
About three in the afternoon, when Davy, Micky, Peter and Mike were still over at Screen Gems shooting their TV show, I arrived at the recording studio. I stayed close to the wall so the guards wouldn’t see me.
Once I was in the studio lobby I wondered which way to go. There were three studios to choose from. I decided to hide in the lobby at first, but then I figured if I did, chances were good that I wouldn’t be able to get into the studio after everybody got there.
Well, I finally walked calmly into the first studio I saw, and I knew right away how lucky I was. It was the right one after all. You wouldn’t believe the confusion. I knew it was the MONKEE studio all right, because somebody asked where Davy’s tambourine was. They found it on the drums. It went on like that for an hour, and because of the big confusion, nobody noticed me when I slipped underneath the couch they had for the MONKEES to sit on if they get tired. They never did sit in it, though, but used it for a trampoline, and Micky bounced up and down on it so hard I was worried that I might get crushed horribly by an over-exuberant MONKEE if he fell through the seat. Fortunately, the couch was pretty strong.
My camera was ready for action, I was getting cramped, the crowd got more and more worked up, and then… the MONKEES walked in. That was a real thrill… worth it all! And on my birthday, too! Davy had a large flower—I mean really huge. It was given to him by someone a few minutes before, and he sat with it all evening, looking at it, smelling it (it was paper, but it had perfume on it) and occasionally scratching himself thoughtfully on the head with the stem. I wished then that I had been outside so I could have given him a present.
Micky was wearing his Indian suit, but instead of moccasins, he was wearing sneakers. By the time they were through, though, he had taken off the heavy jacket. It’s hard work, making an album. I never knew how much work. It really makes me appreciate the records more.
Mike was watching Peter twiddle some dials on the recording machine. Mike looked worried, but the engineer and the producer both smiled, and nodded, and stood around with folded arms. Peter pushed a button, and suddenly there was a horrible noise, and the machine started.
“What’s this do?” Peter asked, a little concerned.
“That,” said the engineer grimly, “is what you do when you want to erase the whole album. Never do that.
“Oh, well, good thing nothing was on the machine, then, right?”
“Then,” said the engineer, “you didn’t want to keep the only copies of ‘Salesman’ and ‘Cuddly Toy’?”
Peter sat down in a heap, his face gone ashen, all the happy-go lucky gone out of him. Davy, Mike and Micky, having heard all this, were in shock.
“WHAAAAAT???” They all cried.
“Ha ha ah ha ha ha,” cackled the engineer, who’d been waiting for a chance to get Peter back for all the tricks he’d played. Peter cracked up, and Micky did too, after he’d gotten that it was only a joke, but Davy and Mike only calmed down after they heard both songs all the way through, and only after a thorough explanation about how everybody knew that Peter would play with the machine, and all that, because he always does, and so on. But for a long time afterwards they kept a watch out of the corner of their eyes to make sure he didn’t try anything else.
“Yeh, I figured you’d get Peter with that sometime,” Micky said quietly, as he pulled out a handful of SILLY PUTTY and spread it carefully over the controls of the machine.
I was taking snapshots during all of this, but of course being under the couch and all, the only thing I got was the underside of the couch and a bunch of feet. If you’re ever under a couch in a recording studio, by the way, and you’ve sneaked in, and you’re taking pictures, take my advice. Don’t use flashcubes. It’ll give you away every time.
I mean, it’s kind of hard, in a fairly darkened studio, to ignore brilliant flashes of light coming from underneath the couch. So there I was, looking right up into the face of an amused Davy Jones.
“Well, look what we have under here!“ he chuckled.
If it wasn’t for Davy, they wouldn’t have let me stay, but he insisted that since I had gone through such a lot to meet them that I ought to be allowed to watch, and sit and talk. And anyway, they were cracked up that the guard system, which is supposed to be the best there is, wasn’t perfect.
It was really outasite to hear them, just like they sound on TV and their records, without the crowds to make noise. Of course I go to all their concerts, and they’re great fun, but this was really special.
It was pretty late by the time they were finished recording, but everybody was so worked up they all decided to go someplace to relax. They asked me if I’d like to go with them. Can you imagine refusing? So off we went, first over to Mike’s to get Phyllis, and then we all went over to Wil Wright’s for ice cream. Davy got a huge sundae, with everything. I don’t see how he managed to eat the thing, but he finished it and then washed it down with a large soda. Mike and Phyllis shared a sundae, and Peter had an ice cream soda. Micky went through so many changes, the waitress decided to bring him several things and let him figure out what he wanted. Naturally, I had a banana split.
We left Wil Wright’s, and drove farther up the strip. I couldn’t figure out where we were going. We passed the Whiskee A Go Go, and Gazarri’s, and all, and then went around south, to… the DAISY CLUB! Boy, I’ll tell you, I didn’t ever expect to go there. And as a guest of the MONKEES! Well, I almost cried. By the time the DAISY closed it was really late. That was when we went to HULLABALOO.
The MONKEES like to go to HULLABALOO, because sometimes new acts are shown, and they like to keep up with what’s happening. Also, they like to try to help, when they see a group that has promise. So we went upstairs to the light projection booth. We’d have sat downstairs, but they were so exhausted, they couldn’t cope with a crowd. Of course, they’d been signing autographs and talking and stuff at Screen Gems, which is where they film their TV show, and also over at RCA VICTOR.
It was almost dawn when they decided to leave. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Or how early, that is. I guess. Everybody agreed that the thing to do now was to go get the MONKEE MOBILE and drive around until we ran out of gas. So we zipped over to Cahuenga West, to the MONKEEMOBILE GARAGE, leaving the GTO there. The cool air sure woke me up in a hurry, but if it hadn’t, Micky’s driving would have. After we got the ticket for driving the wrong way on a one-way sidewalk, everyone kept looking out in back of us for cops, but Micky said not to bother, because he was keeping an eye out. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out one of those plastic eyes you get in novelty shops on Hollywood Boulevard.
They let me off at my house, and was my mom worried! The police had been called, and she had to go call them back and tell them I was OK. I knew I was really going to get it. But then she saw who I was with, and quick told them not to leave, she’d be right back (after she dug out her autograph book). Davy said how much of an honor it was, and it really was, too. My mom doesn’t usually ask for an autograph. The last entry is Fats Domino, dated 1956! Anyhow, the guys all said I was the most unusual gal they’d ever met, and my home was unusual, too. Oh, yes. You probably wanted to know how I got in. I used the tree route. (They check it, now.) Oh, here’s a picture of me that Peter snapped at my house. I wonder if they have trees at Screen Gems…
Editor’s Note: This story is all in fun and our guest columnist only dreamed of meeting her idols. But it doesn’t sound too impossible. Anything can happen when the Monkees are around.