Mourning Davy Jones

So sad over Davy Jones. 

Upon hearing the news of Davy Jones' death, I just have not been able to blog. Yes, I was brokenhearted when we lost Corey Haim, but Corey was different. He lived a high risk lifestyle. Davy was healthy. He wasn't known as a wild party guy. You never saw Davy Jones on TMZ for boozing it up. You never saw Davy Jones beating up his wife. What I saw was Davy Jones as a sweet memory of my youth.

Growing up on Long Island in the 1980s, I was a huge Monkees fan. My parents would drive me all over New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Connecticut to attend Monkees conventions and concerts. I had 100s of Monkees-loving pen pals all over the world. I would meet up with them at concerts and conventions. I even attempted to plan a huge Monkees get together picnic. That's a long story I won't get into right now...

From the ages of 13 to about 15, I had a quarterly zine called Hit Factory. This was before kids had computer graphics programs and scanners. Each issue featured awkwardly snipped and frayed black and white photos alongside Dot Matrix text. I dealt with the challenge of printing costs, ad rates (yes I had paid ads!), shipping costs and in the end I think I lost money on the deal. But I wasn't in it for the money. I loved writing about my favorite band!

Hit Factory grew to become a family effort. Dad would drive me to the local Minute Man copy center in Franklin Square, New York to print out dozens of Xerox copies. My little brother would help me collate the pages and staple. Mom would take me to the Valley Stream Post Office to load up on rolls of stamps and mail the issues. 

Having known firsthand what it's like to adore a teen idol, I credit The Monkees with inspiring me to pursue entertainment writing. I've since interviewed many teen bands and have published several books on teen idols. Not only did I write different articles for my zine, but my very first article ever published was about The Monkees. My very first celebrity interview was with Micky Dolenz. Although Davy wasn't my favorite Monkee, Davy Jones had such a beautiful voice. I loved his wit and his accent. He was the sweet Monkee. He was high energy and I could see why the girls loved him best.

Davy, we will miss you.

The 1986 New Monkees Sucked

I loathed the New Monkees in 1986

I am not going to sugarcoat how I felt about The New Monkees in 1986. I was pissed. At the time, I was a teen reporter for Long Island Newsday and expressed my disgust in an article about the new show. Back then, the paper printed teen writers' last names and ages.

1986 was before call ID, call block and *69. In other words, there was nothing you could do when you got a random prank or evil call. I remember a man called our family home and went off on me for talking smack about this AWESOME new show. Dude, you're a man and I'm 13 1/2, what the hell?

Let's face it, nobody likes anything that's redone. Remember New Coke? How insulting is it to any band, even a prefab group like The Monkees, to release a NEW version? Imagine the New U2 or the New REM? Eww! For more info on what The New Monkees were all about, check out The New Monkees Wiki page.

Here's a clip to refresh your memory... For the younger readers, check it out anyway and hope nobody ever redoes your favorite band. 

Monkees Live At Ruth Eckerd Hall, Clearwater Florida

Interviewing Micky Dolenz  of The Monkees
 in the '80s. Check out my Swatch and bad hair.

Last week, I did something blog-related I've never done before.

Many bloggers work closely with PR groups hooking up with freebies and all sorts of fun stuff. This doesn't really fit the Fourth Grade Nothing format. Readers stop by to remember and share experiences about our favorite '70s, '80s and '90s movies, music, books, toys, celebrities, foods and more. I put my own personal spin on it from my childhood. I sometimes even spice things up with random retro diary entries.

Okay, back to the PR issue. I was a massive Monkees fan between 1986-1987. I attended conventions, had a fanzine with more than 160 subscribers worldwide and even had my very first article published in New York's popular Newsday newspaper. I was 12. 

This year, the group is touring for their 40th Anniversary. Last night they did a show here in Florida. I contacted their PR group suggesting I attend and document the experience here for my readers at FourthGradeNothing. I was turned down. I expected that would happen as I'm not the St.Pete Times. Ya know? 

Rewind to my teen reporter days. After publishing about twelve articles with Newsday, I was asked to actually interview the Monkees. As a kid, this was a dream come true. To read more about this amazing event, check out my blog post over at Masshole Mommy's crib. 

I Interviewed Micky Dolenz of The Monkees

Micky Dolenz and me.

The summer of 1986 was probably one of my most favorite summers ever. I was 13 years old and all was right with the world. That summer I wasn't going away to camp that year, which was cool, instead I was attending an outdoor Monkees concert at Jones Beach on July 17 (now known as my husband's birthday).

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.

What's In My Trapper Keeper? Davy Jones! Video Blog

Back again for another summer Saturday edition of "What's In My Trapper Keeper?" ...


As you know, back in the 1980s, I wrote to dozens of celebrities. Today, I reveal a cool card from The Monkees Davy Jones. Check me out!

Where was the Internet when I was 12?

Do you remember your very first computer? Better yet, remember when computer class was called "Keyboarding"? I feel like such an old crank when I think about how great kids have it today. No need to spend all day sitting in the library, just Google whatever the assignment topic is. No more reviewing old black and white microfilm and carrying a ton of books home to write a report.

No more "White Out" encrusted assignments. Forget paper all together, for all I know kids might be simply emailing their assignments to teachers these days. I can just hear today's Central High School English teacher saying, "OK class, you have until Friday morning to complete your assignment. Please send me a PDF by 8AM." How lucky! I mean, why even bother going to class? Just work remotely like college kids do today with online classes.

I remember our very first home computer. It was the summer before entering 7th grade. My dad borrowed one from his school and let us use it for a few months before actually purchasing our own. It was an Apple IIc and came with a box of black floppy disks. A big hulking off-white computer with a dark screen and green letters. Dad provided me with several computer games which I quickly became addicted to.

I'm guessing they were through his school because one of them was educational and had to do with US capitals, president's names and other historical trivia. That of course wasn't my favorite game. No, my favorite game featured a variety of Olympic competitions. I loved the diving, the pole vault and skeet shooting. There was also a lemonade stand game which I could tell was probably developed for math class since it had to do with adding, subtracting and multiplying. I hated math, but loved playing that lemonade game. I marveled at the simple graphics and sound effects which consisted of basic thumps and beeps. I could play for hours trying to beat the computer.

Oh how I adored that computer. As time went by, I tired of the few games we had and began typing up articles about my favorite band at the time, The Monkees. I even decided to start my own magazine (fanzine) all about the group that was also my favorite TV show thanks to Nickelodeon. I'd write articles, short stories and review their albums.



I'd print my articles out on the old dot matrix printer (I think that's what it was called back then). The paper wasn't like it is today, remember? It was a large stack with perforated lines at the end of each page. It was painful feeding it into the printer. I can recall the hideous sound of each page printing.



I'd spend an entire evening cutting and pasting pictures stolen from my teen mags and apply them to blank pieces of paper. Who knew about copyright laws at age 12? It was such a task getting the printouts and cutout photos to fit perfectly. Once complete, Dad would take me to the local printer and they'd Xerox them for me. I'd staple them together and mail the quarterly 'zine out to my readers. Yes, I even had subscribers. They paid $5 per year to read that little rag. I didn't earn a profit. In fact, I barely had enough to cover the printing and postage costs. I was a fan, I wasn't in it for the money!

I sold ads for 15 cents per word to offset the unforeseen postage costs and included a pen pal directory. I called the 'zine "Hit Factory" after a "best of" album. It was so much fun at the time. I sold subscriptions by placing ads in other fan mags and would sneak subscription forms into Monkees albums at Record World. Thanks to handing out hundreds of fliers at their Jones Beach concert, I somehow tapped out with 160 members all over the US. It was so exciting.

Dad suggested I send an article to Newsday to see if they'd publish it. They called me a few days later and ran my Monkees article in Kidsday. I was on staff with them for almost three years before we outgrew each other. It was thrilling seeing my name in the paper every few months. Yup, while other normal kids were busy at ceramics or dance class, I was calling in my articles. They had me read them slowly word-for-word to the editor over the phone. If we had the internet back then, I'd simply be able to email it to him.

If I were a kid today, I'd probably get nothing done. In addition to the fanzine, I loved collecting pen pals back then. I'd find them in Tiger Beat, Bop and through other fan magazines. I'd spend weekends writing letters back and forth to kids all over the world. I even wrote to celebrities. I still kept my old Trapper Keeper filled with letters and signed postcards from '80s stars like Corey Feldman, Kirk Cameron, Mackenzie Astin (brother Sean never wrote back!) and other sitcom stars you wouldn't remember from forgotten shows like Whiz Kids, Day By Day and Kids Incorporated.

If I were 12 today, I'd probably meet other kids through online pen pal groups or chat on message boards. No more waiting around for the mail. No need to blow my entire allowance on stamps and stationery. In a way, it's unfair, but then again it was a nice time. A simple time. No cyber bullying or worrying about online predators. I guess as with everything, there are positives and negatives. I wouldn't trade those memories for anything. :)

Thanks for reading.