By Marion Rainford
Continued from last month.
Mike Nesmith is a real sweetie. He had his wife with him, first time. I was a bit worried because he said he didn’t want any personal publicity. It was really a holiday for him. But then he did meet the reporters, all together. My fears were washed away. He had all the Press sitting round him, on the floor, and he did all he could to help. I thought I ought to break it up after a while and came in and said: ‘Mike’s pretty tired—we ought to stop now.’ But he said ‘Oh no, if they want to listen to me, I’ll go on.’ SOME stars will give up at the first opportunity. Mike just had a sandwich and a Coke and kept right on going.
“As for Davy, well—he’d been in on a quick visit earlier than the others. I’d met him briefly, with lots of others. But the second time I met him, months later, he came right up and said: ‘Oh Marion hi!’ And gave me a smacking great kiss. That impressed me a lot. Lots of people just can’t remember names even… or faces.
“In the hotel, Davy filled up loads of hotel scribbling pads with his autograph. And whenever he went out to visit someone he insisted on NOT going out through a back door. He was very aware that so many fans had waited ages for a glimpse of him…
“My toughest moment was when Davy came back the second time. Being English, so many people wanted to see him. In fact, he did about 25 interviews in five hours. But he’s game to do anything anyone asks. Always clowning around. He didn’t lose his temper with anyone. He had a Coke brought in, asked the waiter his name and then said: ‘Well, Joseph, I’ll call you by your proper name. And call me Davy—cut out the sir bit.’ Micky always over tipped—he didn’t understand our money anyway. But he’d pass over a pound note, see the expression on my face and then say: ‘Was that an awful lot too much?’
“It is tough coping with the demands people make on the Monkees but this toughness is nothing to do with the boys themselves. It’s just that if everybody who wanted to meet them was allowed in at the same time, you’d never get a hall big enough to house them. I’ve seen Davy go on until he is sinking at the knees.
“Everybody asks me about the boys and their marriage plans. This is the favourite question. Well, I’d say, from talking to them in general terms, that Micky is much too interested in girls in general to worry about marriage. And when he does that looking deep into your eyes… well, you’re hooked. Davy was telling me that he had lost a couple of serious girl-friends simply because they got fed up with sitting through rehearsals or waiting outside studios. Maybe you can’t imagine EVER getting fed up with Davy, but that’s what he told me.
“One thing is certain: Peter is very intelligent and he’s the one who most certainly has to act a PART, the dummy part, in the series. All the others told me that. Having, up to now, met only the other three—I can say that THEY are all pretty much themselves on television. Specially [sic] Micky with his James Cagney routine, which he does all the time.
“I’ve met a lot of different groups, some big and some small. But the Monkees are the friendliest crowd imaginable.
“My job is keeping the Press happy—and keeping the Monkees happy. Some groups have no idea how journalists work, or what photographers want. But the Monkees are easy, matey, co-operative and just plain darned sweet. THE END