I was one of those savagely underprivileged children who did not have cable growing up. Thankfully, I had grandparents who did, and it was at their house where I would gorge myself on Nickelodeon shows like “Mr. Wizard” and “You Can’t Do That On Television” to hold me over until my next visit. And, like any good red-blooded preteen of the time, I wanted my MTV.
In the mid-80’s, MTV was a fantastic bizarre of sequins, neon, hairspray, androgyny, and synthesizers. I didn’t care that Boy George Continue reading “How MTV Led Me to Tulsa, Oklahoma”
A pair of sparkly shoes. Images of a rainbow room. Three companions leading me on a journey full of magic and awe. It wasn’t Oz. It was even better.
I am currently coming off of a high from this weekend, for I witnessed the greatest concert of my life TWICE. Once in Chicago. Once in Cleveland. By now, you should know me well enough to know I am talking about The Monkees. It happened. Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork, and…wait for it…Mike “Papa Nez” Nesmith. On stage. Together. Pinch me. Continue reading “The Memory of Sparkly Shoes: The Monkees 2012 Tour”
Today my dad turns sixty years old. Over the years, I have drawn comparisons of him to many different people. A slave driver. A jail warden. The big, giant, scary, fire and brimstone floating wizard head in The Wizard of Oz. Okay, okay…I kid. But he does do a spot-on impersonation of my Great Aunt Ginny eating. And he was calling the majority of the world’s Continue reading “A Re-Gift to My Dad”
I have never claimed to be cool. Let’s be completely clear on that point. So what I am about to tell you really should not change your opinion of me whatsoever.
After my post about my ten-year anniversary last week, I would think I had properly conveyed the level of awesomeness my husband possesses. However, during our anniversary dinner, he went and outdid himself by giving me the best gift I could have imagined. Diamonds? No. Pearls? No. A ticket to the three-day Monkees Convention in March of 2013? Damn straight! Continue reading “Warning: This Post Contains Major Geeking-Out”
My life has just been made complete. I had the most mind-blowing revelation: my real father is a Monkee. Here is how it all played out:
I came across this recent charming article about Mike Nesmith, the famously “missing” Monkee. For those of you who don’t know, he was the one who wore the wool hat. And he is the one who no longer tours with the group. Right now, the other three Monkees are in the midst of their 45th Anniversary Tour, and the frenzy that this has stirred up among Continue reading “Is That You, Dad?”