Happy 70th birthday, Micky Dolenz. That’s Micky without an E. He’s a Monkee, not a mouse.
I met him in Los Angeles once before a concert with him and Davy Jones. And if you’re wondering how to meet a celebrity, it’s not as hard as you’d think. I called the venue directly to buy tickets. The girl on the phone was so sweet that I chanced to ask, “So, what hotel do the bands normally stay at?” Suddenly this girl’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone. It was like we were old friends when she whispered, “I can’t confirm anything but we usually book the bands at [name of hotel].“
And that was literally all it took. Just asking the question.
So when I called to book the hotel I got to talk to another very personable lady. I said, “I know Davy and Micky are staying here. Can you tell me what room number they’re in? Or what floor they’re on?” I seriously doubted she’d tell me the room number. That could cost her her job. And she didn’t tell me the room or floor number. But she did do something totally awesome: “What I can tell you is you’re close. You’re very close to where their rooms.” I took that to mean she’d put my room on the same floor. I was right.
I arrived in L.A. from Phoenix on the day of the show several hours early. After checking in I went to my room and got ready because obviously I wasn’t going to meet Micky Dolenz or Davy Jones looking like I’d just spent the last seven hours in a car whose air conditioning had broken about halfway through the trip.
My friends decided to roam around looking for them but I didn’t want to risk it. Sooner or later they’d have to come to their rooms. So I sat in the hall just outside my hotel room, which coincidentally had a view of the elevator too. I had a pen, an old Tiger Beat magazine with the Monkees on the cover that I’d bought on eBay, and nothing but time on my hands. By the time I heard the ding! of someone exiting the elevator I was about to nod off. When I turned to look, it was Micky Dolenz dressed in all black, including his socks and shoes. He looked so adorkably handsome.
Micky was talking on his cell phone but, fortunately for me, wrapping up the call. It was obvious I was waiting for him and he slowed down as he walked past. I found it so endearingly charming that Micky waited for me to ask for his autograph rather than just assuming.
He smiled shyly and smoothed his hair before taking my pen and autographing the Tiger Beat. As soon as he walked away, I went in my room and jumped up and down on the bed.
I’m sure it wouldn’t turn out to be so easy to meet Justin Beiber or whatever teeny-bopper celebrity is currently a mega-star. But it can totally work for other celebrities. And here’s another helpful tip that I learned the hard way: if you’re staying at the same hotel as the band you’re in town to see, always eat at the hotel restaurant.
Micky, if you’re reading this please forgive me for stalking you and then blogging about I stalked you. Also, I love you.