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Micky Dolenz and me. |
That year I began writing articles for Newsday, our local Long Island newspaper. I was a kid editor for Newsday's kid-friendly column, appropriately titled, Kidsday. Pat, the editor in chief who ran the column, knew how crazy I was for the '60s bubblegum group, The Monkees. Every time we spoke, I'd beg him to hook me up with concert tickets.
I wasn't just a fan of The Monkees. I was insanely obsessed with them. I attended conventions. I ran a quarterly fanzine (my dad helped with the printing and mailing) with over 160 members. I had every album, magazine, photo, collectible, you name it, I had it! I had every episode of The Monkees show taped at least twice on VHS. I knew the lines to every song, every episode and their movie Head.
One fateful day, Pat called and said my wish was finally about to come true. Sure, he could offer me second row tickets to their Jones Beach show, but I'd have to earn them. Ugh. How? "We need you to interview them!" Pat said nonchalantly. I nearly passed out. My first big assignment. They were my most favorite band at the time next to Howard Jones and Tears for Fears of course. Wow!!!
The only Monkee who agreed to the interview for whatever reason, was Micky Dolenz. This was fine by me, Micky was my favorite member of The Monkees. I asked Micky questions about himself he was surprised I even knew about. I gave him a handful of things to autograph for me and asked him for a hug. I was sure it would forever be the best day of my life. In some ways it was the best day of my childhood life. As an adult, my wedding was the best day of my life.