Wednesday afternoon at work I felt something coming on. Couldn’t tell if it was a cold or what, then yesterday I woke up with a temperature of 100.2. This morning it’s 102.3. So it must be some strain of flu. I figure It’s my fault for going to New York to see the Monkees. I’m always punished for having a good time.
And now my right hip suddenly feels like it’s been hit with a baseball bat. Somebody please put me out of my misery. Suggestions include hanging, like the Bing Crosby song in my last post, or you can set the cats on me.
Joltin’ Joe Sinnott’s granddaughter Erin has been posting a very enjoyable weekly series of video Q&A’s with Joe on his Facebook page. Joe’s fans and friends know that he’s a big fan of Bing Crosby, and this week’s question comes from a fellow Der Bingle fan, who’s none other than my co-conspirator in fanboy endeavors, Dennis F. Rogers.
Joe’s praise for Bing singing the plaintive Hang Me, Oh Hang Me makes it deserving of a listen, so here it is.
[audio:https://s3.amazonaws.com/dogratcom/Audio/2012/12/BingCrosby.mp3|titles=Bing Crosby – Hang Me Oh Hang Me]
I’m pleased no end that Joe Sinnott also has a connection to the Beatles, because when they came to America in 1964, Joe had the distinction of being picked to illustrate the authorized comic book of their story…
… and here’s Joe talking about drawing the Beatles. A couple of years later he would be in the thick of his legendary run with Jack Kirby on The Fantastic Four.
Validation. Not the kind that gets free parking, but should gain entry into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Sunday night, at the Beacon Theatre in New York City, the Monkees rocked a packed house. It was a happy, yet bittersweet night with the loss of Davy, but thanks to Mike Nesmith appearing as a Monkee for the first time in more years than I know, they have proven once and for all that what began in 1965 as a casting call for a new TV show became something real and great and enduring. If the Monkees had been just a TV show, all they could do would be autograph signings, but by the time Dennis and I got to the theater there was a line that stretched for more than a city block — for an act that, keep in mind, hit over 45 years ago! Here’s their entrance as seen from my seat. (Sorry for the poor video quality. The camera has only a 3x optical zoom and it didn’t auto-focus correctly.)
A highlight of the show for me were the songs from the Monkees’ movie, Head. Here’s Mike doing Circle Sky, taken by somebody else in the audience.
The tributes to Davy were sincere and touching. This one in particular.
For guys like myself and Dennis who have, from the age of eleven, when the Monkees debuted, never wavered in our appreciation of the Monkees, last night was an amazing, unforgettable experience. What made it possible was the presence of Michael Nesmith who, after the album More of the Monkees appeared without their knowledge, said to the men who had control over their lives, “this shall not stand.” With the promise that the Monkees would continue making their TV show as contractually obligated, Don Kirshner was fired and the Monkees were given creative control over their music. That unique, angry, and powerful act of defiance resulted in their third album, Headquarters, and turned the Monkees from teen idols into a legitimate band. It’s past time for Mickey, Mike, Peter, and Davy to take their rightful place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They have validity, and now they should have vindication to go with it.
