The true story of one Monkee fan, from the time she first heard them sing until the day she talked to Micky on the phone.
I’m just 14 years old; and I think it was December 25, 1966 when I got my first taste of the Monkees. I was opening my presents on Christmas day and there it was—the Monkees’ first album.
I really hadn’t heard too much about them before, so I played the album and the first time I didn’t like it. But after three or four times, I loved it! Then I found out they had a television show, so when Monday came I watched it. I really hated it! It was the dumbest thing I’d every seen.
When next Monday rolled around I didn’t even bother to turn on the TV! Then I decided I should find out more about the Monkees. My cousin bought a magazine called “Tiger Beat,” so I decided to get one, too. When I finished it I really felt I understood them better. Then I began to understand their show and I loved it!
Since then I haven’t missed one yet! I bought all the Tiger Beats, Monkee Spectaculars and Faves I could get my hands on. I have all the Monkees’ records and that group is all I ever think about.
For my birthday, I got a real shock. My father knew how much I loved the Monkees, so he bought me a portable color TV. You should see how much they look in living color!
When I heard the Monkees were going to do three concerts in Forest Hills Stadium, I knew I just had to see them in person. I got my ticket early and I just couldn’t wait to go. Then the big day came. Before the concert I noticed a boy walking around the stage who looked important. My cousin asked him who he was and he said Neko Chohlis. I remembered from Tiger Beat that Neko was a good friend of the Monkees. He gave us his autograph and even squirted us with his water pistol. He was so nice!
That’s when it happened. The Monkees came out played “Last Train To Clarksville” and everyone let out a blast that could be heard for ten miles. The concert was really the biggest thrill of my life until that moment. it made me start thinking what it would be like to talk to them in person.
That’s when our plan began. My mother thought I was crazy. Why should we get through to them on the phone? Thousands of fans call the Monkees every day and don’t get through, so why should we? Well, I didn’t listen and the day came—October 5, 1967, a Thursday.
There were three of us, my girlfriends Barbara and Joan and I. We’d been planning on the call for weeks and weeks. We got the number of Screen Gems from information; and began calling from a phone booth. We each had about three dollars in change. We made sure to call person to person so if we didn’t get to talk to one of them we wouldn’t be charged.
We called up as lots of different people asking for Micky. First we said Sammy Juste was calling, then Coco, then a hairdresser from New York and finally a friend of Davy’s from New York. Nothing worked. We went to Joan’s house for lunch and Joan’s mother said that if we paid her for the call we could use their phone. But when we kept being turned down we began to get discouraged.
Barbara kept saying, “We’re not going to get through.” Joan sort of gave up too. Then she got a bubble gum comic and it told her to keep trying. I kept telling them to think positive; and asked Joan to try one more time.
Just before four in the afternoon New York time we gave our last try. We thought we might catch Micky on his lunch break because we read in Monkee Spectacular that Micky ate his lunch at the studio sometimes.
We thought up a great idea. Joan put on an accent and made believe she was Neil Diamond’s secretary calling about a new song. I really began to believe it might work. The operator asked her all sorts of questions like, “What office are you calling from? Are you married? What business are you calling about?” Joan really gave some smart answers until the operator believed her. She should have received an Academy Award for her performance!
Barbara had a pillow stuffed in her face all this time, because she’s a real comic and can’t stop laughing. I was laughing too. I was also pacing the floor and we were really scared! One time Barbara almost ruined the whole thing. Joan’s mother came to the door, but it was stuck, so Barbara yelled, “Joan, your mother’s at the door.” And this was supposed to be Neil Diamond’s secretary?
Joan said, “Is this Mr. Dolenz?” And that’s all I had to hear! Barbara and I both ran up the stairs, pulling each other back. Finally we both found an extension. The first thing I asked was, “Micky, is this really you?” He sounded so sweet and surprised! There he was all ready to talk business and a bunch of girls get on the phone.
He sounded just like he does on television, only better! He seemed to be shy, but I guess that was because he was so surprised! This is the way our conversation went—we asked him not to be angry with us and he said, “No. I’m really happy you could get through.”
I asked him, “What are you wearing right now?” and Micky said, “Right now I’m wearing blue jeans and a T shirt.”
“How are your four cats?” Answer: “Oh, now I have eight.”
“How is You?” Answer: “He’s fine, but he’s not here today.”
“Micky, are you and Sammy really married? We keep hearing that.” Answer: (he laughed) “That’s not true. We’re just very good friends!”
I said, “Micky, I met Neko at your concert and he was really a doll!” And Micky said, “Neko’s a real nice guy to have as a friend.”
We said, “Micky, your concert was really terrific!” and he said, “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Are any of the other Monkees there?” Answer: “No, they just all ran out for lunch.”
“Micky, we must have called 13 times trying to get you, we almost gave up.” Answer: “Gee, I’m sorry you couldn’t get through sooner.”
Right then someone called him and he said, “Wow, I have to split.” Barbara, being naturally nutty said, “Micky, you split your pants?” This really made Micky laugh and then he said, “No, I have to go.” So we said our final farewells and Micky said “Thanks for calling,’ and we said “Thanks for talking to us.”
He was very polite and a real doll about the whole thing. I’ll never forget the state we were in after the phone call—hysterics. Laughing, crying, screaming and sighing. I just wish everyone had a chance to talk to one of the Monkees like we did.