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Michael Nesmith!

Don't you just love that picture???

Mike is my second favorite Monkee. Mike was the leader/father figure of the Monkees, but was also known for his strong opinions and beliefs.

"Play, magic fingers!"

Full Name:Robert Michael Nesmith
Also Known As: Nez. Princess Gwen . Miiiiike!
Parents:Mom Betty invented Liquid Paper (a.k.a. White Out)
Marital Status:Married (Married, I believe twice before)
Children:I know he has one son and a daughter with his first wife, and another son with Nurit Wilde.
Before the Monkees: A brief time in the Air Force (until the knocked over the General's plane while cleaning it), and a singer/songwriter (wrote hit song "Different Drum" for Linda Rondstat), musician.
After the Monkees: Singer/songwriter/musician/music producer, Writer/Director/actor(Directed, wrote, and stared in the first grammy award winning long form music video, "Elephant Parts".), Producer (Opened own production company, Pacific Arts. Won multi-million dollar lawsuit against PBS.),and author.
Mike's Favorite Monkee:Micky

Mike, According to Micky
From Micky's book, I'm a Beliver by Micky Dolenz and Mark Bego. Copywright 1993.
Dry, witty sense of humor, intelligent, cool, generous, somewhat insecure, and definitely a control freak. One of the funniest men I have ever known.
Mike's Dressing Room
Country/Western/Psychedelic. Dark and foreboding. Dimly lit by a string of Christmas tree lights. Black light posters and aluminum foil covered the walls, stacks of Car and Driver magazines covered the coffee table. For some strange reason that I never understood, he had stuck about a couple hundred safety pins in one wall. I often wondered what went on in that dressing room.
Mike definitely was the control freak of the Monkees as shown in the famous hotel wall scene in Micky's book.
Int. Kirshner's Bungalow-Night
The four Monkees, Donnie Kirshner, and Herb Moelis (a Screen Gems lawyer) are in attendance. The boys have just arrived and pleasantries have been exchanged. The atmosphere is tense. Everyone knows what's coming, and no one is looking forward to it.
Micky is lounging in a chair, dreading the inevitable. Peter is standing against a wall with his arms folded. Davy is doing his nails. This time it's Mike who's pacing like a caged tiger.
Donnie has four Gold recored stacked up on a table. he picks them up and hands them to the guys. He grins a big toothy grin.
Donnie:So, here they are guys. Your sparkling new Gold records. Congratulations!
Micky:(feigned enthusiam)Great!
Davy: (feigned enthusiam)Great!
Peter:(no enthusiam) Hummph!
Mike:(ominously) When is the next release scheduled?
Donnie:(cautiously) Well...we think it should be in late February..or so.
Peter:(sarcastically) Well, guys. I guess we'd better get into the studio and start recording some new tunes. Our tunes.
Donnie's big toothy grin starts to fade. All you can see now are the tips of fangs.
Donnie: No, no. Don't bother. We've already recorded some great new tracks in New York. There's this one unbelievable tune by Neil Diamond...You remember him, he wrote "I'm a Bel..."
Mike:(exploding) What! You recorded new tracks in New York? Why didn't you talk to us first? It's our names going on those records!
Whatever was left of the big toothy smile is gone and lost forever. It has been replaced by a thin, grim smirk.
Donnie:Take it easy, kid. Why don't you just be happy with this Gold record and...
Mike: Look! Either we get total and complete control of all the recording and the releases or I'm quitting!
Donnie is taken aback; the grim grin is frozen on his face. Even the other three guys are stunned. No one thought it would come to this. And no one thinks for a moment that Mike is bluffing. Mike doesn't bluff. Suddenly, Herb Moelis, the lawyer speaks up.
Moelis:(arrogantly) You'd better take a look at your contract, son. You can't quit unless we tell you you can quit.
Big mistake! This is not something you tell Mike Nesmith, even as a joke, on a good day. Mike spins around to confront the squirmy legal beagle. There is fire in his eyes and fury in his heart. His fists are clenched. The veins are popping out of his neck. He looks like he is about to explode all over this little litigator. Somehow heh manages to maintain his self-control.
He turns to the nearby wall, cocks back his fist, and plunges it deep into the thrity-year-old lath and plaster.
With that he storms out of the seething room and into the cool L.A. night.

Although Mike did have a bit of a temper, he stood up for the Monkees integrity. I admire that.

My Favorite Mike Sung Songs

Nezhead Links!

Mike's Homepage
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