Where Have You Been All My Life, Michael Nesmith? or What You Have Seen You Must Believe

When I obsess, I go whole hog. I've done it before with other things. I get this desire to know everything there is to know about my obsession. It becomes a wild and starving animal that I have to tame and feed constantly. I'm sure there are varying degrees to my obsessions but I think that depends on how much I give in to them and let the obsession take over. This is not always a good thing. There have been several occasions where my thought progression was negative and turned inwards on myself. That is, of course, a story for another day though.

Right now, this obsession is Michael Nesmith. You know, this guy. From The Monkees.

Up until about two months ago, I could have cared less about him. I knew who he was, of course, but had never experienced his music nor seen him outside of anything save The Monkees and even that I will confess to not paying that much attention. My family didn't have cable when I was a kid and I didn't see the show on MTV like so many others in my age range. I think I saw my first episode around Christmas of last year when I gave my husband the TV show dvd's as a gift. He has been a fan for a long time. When they announced their tour there was no question that we would be going. I bought three tickets to the show: one for my husband as a birthday present, one for my friend Em, who has had a rough year and needed a pick me up, and one for me because it sounded like fun.

We made it to the venue an hour before the doors opened. The tour buses were there and people milled about by the fence blocking it. None of us were particularly interested in hanging out waiting for a glimpse of celebrity. Honestly, what would be the point, we asked each other? None of us wanted an autograph and the chances of seeing anyone come out of those buses was slim. Besides, it was hot and sticky and we all wanted something to drink. We went to a restaurant that also had a bar; had a drink and chatted about the work day (Em's had been particularly grueling) before heading back to get in line. Once inside, we stood in line to get our merchandise. Unfortunately, the line was nonexistent and we had to just edge our way to the front. My husband said afterwards that he was under so much pressure to just make it to the front he forgot everything we had decided on buying ahead of time. This meant that the one thing I wanted, those blasted pins with their faces on it, was forgotten. Oh well, c'est la vie right?

We go to our seats; we're on the aisle in the balcony on Mike Nesmith's side of the stage. My husband is thrilled. Em has to sit next to some guy who is taping the whole thing. I didn't realize until after the concert how much this impeded her enjoyment. You can see his videos on YouTube for what its worth. Anyway, we had a decent view of the stage. The only problem turned out to be that because of the angle if someone stood in the next section, we wouldn't be able to see a thing. We completely missed the first song altogether because of this. A lady behind us went over and said something. All was well until the encore but we were on our feet then too.

I don't really want to go song by song because I can't. There's too much distance between the concert and the writing of this. But after the jump I'll tell you some random thoughts I had before I get to the whole point of this blog entry/concert review. And also, pardon any bad language but sometimes a cuss word is the best descriptor even if it is crass.

1. Micky Dolenz can fucking sing. I suppose I always knew this but I just assumed that at his age there would be some bad notes in there. (I've seen other aging rockers perform and they had issues.) I can't recall one moment or one note that was wrong. 
2. Peter Tork? My goodness, I had no idea that he could play so many instruments that well!
3. I knew all the "hits" but was completely taken aback by how good the rest of the songs were. I mean really surprised. I've always associated The Monkees sound with happy go lucky pop music not jangly country rock tunes.
4. Thank god for the video. There were a couple of songs that I didn't care for (r.e. bored by) but the video playing in the background was entertaining. The belly dancers were particularly entrancing for some reason.
5. My one nitpick of the night had to be the saxophone/horns somewhere in the middle of the concert. I started to not feel so great about midway through, probably from lack of food and heat, and those horns just jangled my nerves the wrong way.
6. At some point during the first few songs, Em leaned over and asked me which one I would "do." I'm pretty sure it was during Auntie Grizelda or just after it. This may be a blog for another day but I just had no idea what to say. I had never thought of them like that before. So I turned to the stage, looked at the three of them, and said without really thinking too much about it, "Mike." Her response was Peter. (I mentioned this to my husband later that night without telling him my answer. His response was, "You said Mike." Scary.)

Now we come to the point of this really long blog entry. That concert shifted my world. In one night, I went from not really caring to needing to feed my obsession. There came a moment in the show that took me completely by surprise. While I had enjoyed most of the concert to varying degrees, this moment was revelatory. I'll just let you see it.

I had never heard this before that night. And honestly, I don't know that if I had I would have realized it. This song is meant to be played live and loud. I literally thought, "How have I never heard this song?" This song is why you should see live shows as often as you can, people. Live music can open doors you didn't know existed.  

So, I heard this and I was gone for the night. The rest of their set is kind of lost to me now except for What am I Doing Hangin' 'Round which I knew because of my husband. It was probably the only Monkee song he played prior to the concert that I didn't know that stuck with me. We left the concert and I marveled to my husband that I didn't know how good the Monkee catalog was, particularly the songs by Mike Nesmith. My husband, being the music nerd that he is, proceeded to tell me that Mike had a pretty good solo career and that I should try some of that out if I was really interested. Strangely, for being said music nerd, he didn't actually own any solo Nez! So I went looking for it and found some glorious music indeed.

The really interesting thing to me, more than discovering his music, is how it has opened a door for me that I thought closed for me years ago. You see, I used to harbor dreams of being a writer. For a while, back in my twenties, I wrote whenever and where ever I could. But then as John Lennon said, "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." I got married, had kids, changed jobs... Life took over and the zeal I had for writing left me. In discovering Michael Nesmith, I actually found inspiration. I don't know what or why it is, but his music has re-opened that door to me.

Last week, I finished the first short story I've written in fifteen years. It may not be very good, but its done and that is important. I find myself in the strange position of having finished one story and leaping into another! For the first time in a long time, I make time for writing and feel as if what I have created is worthwhile. I sit at my computer with my headphones in place and a Nez tune playing in my ear. In feeding my obsession for Michael Nesmith's music, I have awakened a sleeping dream. 

Today, my copy of Elephant Parts came in the mail and next month, husband and I will be traveling to Dallas for a solo Nez concert. I have no idea if he is doing those "Conversation" meet & greets. I doubt I would want to go anyway even if he were. I don't need his autograph. What would I possibly say to him that didn't make me sound stilted or rehearsed or something he hasn't heard a million times before? Also, I wouldn't want to sound like an idiot which I probably would. I'll just go to the show and revel in the music.

I fully expect to be on this obsession carnival ride for a while longer. Which is fine with me. I could use the creative push. I hope no one else minds the ride.