Whew.
I’ve tried to think about what I should say and I honestly still don’t think I have the words.
Mike Nesmith died yesterday.
He was immeasurably important to me.
I don’t remember much about my childhood but I very vividly remember sitting on my mom’s bed in the fall of 1996 watching the Hey Hey, It’s the Monkees 30th anniversary special. It was the first time I’d ever seen them. Even though they were in their 50s and I was 7, I thought it was the funniest and best thing ever.
As luck would have it, during their 20th anniversary run on MTV in 1986, my mom had the foresight to record it and presented me with the 3 VHS tapes she used. Over the next year (and more), I wore those VHS tapes out.
In September of 1997, I attended my first concert: The Monkees at the Frank Erwin Center. In September of 2021, I saw Mike and Micky for the last time. There are several times in between that they came to Austin but I wasn’t able to go for one reason or another – usually finances. But when they announced their farewell tour, I knew I had to go no matter the cost.
When I was a kid, I loved Mike because he was goofy and from Texas and wore a cool hat. It wasn’t until I got older that I appreciated him for his musicianship and his tenacity. I understood why he led the charge in having the band write and play their own music.
I wore my shirt from the Mike and Micky tour to the show I worked last night and so many people came up to me to talk about Mike. I can’t count the number of times I almost cried.
While I go cry and wait for tonight’s show, I’ll leave you with him singing and talking about While I Cry from September. He said that he couldn’t get through it without crying and I can’t either.
Officially Stefny 
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