The Saga of the Sparkly Shoes
The Epic Adventure of Meeting Nez
After the show in Cincinnati I found myself standing with my mom and good friend to the side of the stage wearing an ‘aftershow’ pass sticker on my shirt that seemed to glow with significance and hidden wonder. I asked my friend if I melted into a puddle on the floor would she please mind scooping me up and taking me home to which she graciously agreed. By a wild turn of events a day that started out exciting enough- going up to Cincinnati to meet a friend and see The Monkees- had spiraled into a million daydreams that had entertained my tiny little mind for years. We were going to meet the one and only- Nez.
So there I stood. Waiting. Where were we going? What were we doing? Would I be required to string together coherent sentences when we got there? The nice guard…maybe he wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘the nice guard’…the super intimidating and muscley guard motioned us on and off we went, around the side of the stage and through the legendary, often dreamt of, backstage door.
Once inside, we waited just inside the door while they got everyone shuffled around and ready for company. Then we were off again, down the hall past Micky in his dressing room and on to Nez’s room where we were nicely greeted with a smile and friendly hello by Peter, exiting the room. We were shown in and given a place to sit and there sat Nez on a couch opposite- relaxing after the show. I’m sure my eyes were as big as dinner plates as I sat down and tried, unsuccessfully I’m sure, to ‘play it cool.’
We were introduced and he looked at us very intently. I got the feeling that he could read souls. For the rest of our time together he called us by name. I mostly listened to him chat with a few others in the room filling in my pieces when asked- always meeting those intense eyes. You can tell just from listening to him chat that he is incredibly intelligent and also very genuine and kind. You would expect most people in this situation to just glance at you and you’d be pretty sure they were thinking of what to eat for dinner but he really focuses on you when he’s talking to you- makes you feel relevant and a bit less small.
After what could have been 30 minutes or 3 hours, it was time to pack up the buses and head out so he followed us back down the hall to the door where he shook hands with my mom and I and told us he was glad to meet us and happy that we could come out and enjoy the show.
Then followed the most surreal bit of the experience- we opened the door and walked out alongside Nez to the cheers of the line of fans waiting behind the fence to wave the guys off. My mom and I are usually out there, cheering and waving. And I realized suddenly that I was on the other side of the fence- walking with Nez. How did this happen?? We waved goodbye as he greeted the fans with a big wave and I floated, dazedly, wearing a goofy grin, through the fence to head back to the car.
It was an extraordinary night for this ordinary little Monkees fan, one I will remember with a smile and recount countless times to anyone who will stand still long enough for me to get started. So here’s what I have to say to you my friends, keep daydreaming and wishing and hoping because you just- never- know!
So there I stood. Waiting. Where were we going? What were we doing? Would I be required to string together coherent sentences when we got there? The nice guard…maybe he wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘the nice guard’…the super intimidating and muscley guard motioned us on and off we went, around the side of the stage and through the legendary, often dreamt of, backstage door.
Once inside, we waited just inside the door while they got everyone shuffled around and ready for company. Then we were off again, down the hall past Micky in his dressing room and on to Nez’s room where we were nicely greeted with a smile and friendly hello by Peter, exiting the room. We were shown in and given a place to sit and there sat Nez on a couch opposite- relaxing after the show. I’m sure my eyes were as big as dinner plates as I sat down and tried, unsuccessfully I’m sure, to ‘play it cool.’
We were introduced and he looked at us very intently. I got the feeling that he could read souls. For the rest of our time together he called us by name. I mostly listened to him chat with a few others in the room filling in my pieces when asked- always meeting those intense eyes. You can tell just from listening to him chat that he is incredibly intelligent and also very genuine and kind. You would expect most people in this situation to just glance at you and you’d be pretty sure they were thinking of what to eat for dinner but he really focuses on you when he’s talking to you- makes you feel relevant and a bit less small.
After what could have been 30 minutes or 3 hours, it was time to pack up the buses and head out so he followed us back down the hall to the door where he shook hands with my mom and I and told us he was glad to meet us and happy that we could come out and enjoy the show.
Then followed the most surreal bit of the experience- we opened the door and walked out alongside Nez to the cheers of the line of fans waiting behind the fence to wave the guys off. My mom and I are usually out there, cheering and waving. And I realized suddenly that I was on the other side of the fence- walking with Nez. How did this happen?? We waved goodbye as he greeted the fans with a big wave and I floated, dazedly, wearing a goofy grin, through the fence to head back to the car.
It was an extraordinary night for this ordinary little Monkees fan, one I will remember with a smile and recount countless times to anyone who will stand still long enough for me to get started. So here’s what I have to say to you my friends, keep daydreaming and wishing and hoping because you just- never- know!