My Life with The Monkees

Magazine: Flip
Published:
Publisher: Kahn Communications Corporation
Pages: 47–49

Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, Peter Tork

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED DURING TRACY THOMAS’ LAST DAY ON THE MAD MONKEES SET! MEET OUR NEW GIRL WITH THE MONKEES—GROOVY CAROL DECK!

By the time you read this, the Monkees will be in the midst of a whirlwind, national, international, sell-out concert tour, exhausted, but happy because they are entertaining their fans.

But the last time I saw the Monkees, they were sad. First of all because they had finished shooting much of their second season of TV shows. And, second, if I’m not flattering myself too much, because it was my last day on the Monkee set.

Mike Nesmith

Carol Deck, tall, thin, lithe, brunette will be taking over my duties as FLIP’s girl with the Monkees, while I concentrate on catching the boys off the set and telling you all about it in my (handy-dandy) column each month.

It was the end of many, many months of long-term sitting on those hard chairs on the Monkee set, but I had soon learned to love those chairs and all the people connected with the show, not the least of whom are the Monkees themselves.

Besides all the information they’ve given me to pass on to you and all the moments of pleasure I’ve had with the four zany, madcap boys, there have been several occasions on which each one has taught me a lesson, and, though each of these episodes is a bit personal and really of no interest to anyone but me, I think I should tell you what I’ve found out, as it will tell you something about the boys themselves.

What I learned from The Monkees

Davy Jones, Peter Tork

First of all, Davy, the youngest, cutest, Englishest Monk. And always an impeccable gentleman. You never notice how important good manners and consideration for others can be until you meet someone like Davy, who seems always to be thinking of you and making you comfortable. No matter who you are, what your station or purpose in life is, you will receive kind, courteous treatment from Davy.

Then there’s the tall, thin Southern Gentleman, as I like to call him, Michael Nesmith. Now, I’m not what you would call vivacious. In fact, I’m rather shy, but once I know someone, I can talk his ear off without half trying. But Mike, in his own quiet, soft-spoken, never-raising-his-voice way, is a perfect example of how much you can say and convey without talking a lot. And without “yelling.” In fact, when he does get angry, he speaks even softer than usual. And though his voice is never loud, it carries and it commands your attention and respect because he speaks slowly and chooses his words carefully and considers what he’s going to say ahead of time.

Peter Tork

And, of course, Micky. I know I’ve often mentioned his love for animals and small children, but you must see him with pets and kids to really appreciate what I mean. It is a lesson in kindness and intelligence to see the way he handles youngsters. He never talks down to them, but while speaking to them on their own level and in language they can understand, he treats them with respect. He says that this is because he has a great admiration for youthful innocence. If everyone would follow his example, the “generation gap” would be closing soon.

Lastly, my favorite, (if I must choose one, and it’s mostly because I’ve seen more of him) Peter. There are so many things I’ve learned from him that it’s hard to pick out just one. But I think I’ve found one that sorta encompasses everything: his open mind. He’s always ready to learn something new or to consider something different. And he will always give whatever it is a fair chance. He takes everything sort of in stride and always makes the best of any situation. It’s like he says that if he’s going to dig ditches, then he’ll be the best ditchdigger that he possibly can. He’s also very honest and sincere and is very hurt when other people are not honest and sincere in return. And once you’ve seen Pete hurt, you can’t possibly let it happen again.

James Frawley, Micky Dolenz

That’s enough serious talk. The next day (after duly promising to keep in touch) was a gas. I took Carol on a tour of the Monkee set, showing her all my hiding places, as they sometimes get very fussy about people on the set, told her how to handle all the crew members, which ended up like a four-hour psychology lecture, and tried to get my costumes, all short and all, on her tall, slender form, which didn’t work, although she does make a better broom than I ever did.

Well, now she’s all oriented and introduced and the last I heard, she was sharpening her nose-for-news. Believe me, if I know Carol at all, she’ll be getting scoops you never imagined, and all for FLIP, so stick with FLIP!!! And Carol. (P.S.—‘Bye, Monkee set…)

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