Day 8 - 344 -- Visionary Loss

It has taken some time to write this blog. On Friday, an actor, singer-songwriter, musician, producer, author, communications visionary and so much more, left this plane of existence. Michael Nesmith, affectionately known to fans and friends as Nez, has been a part of my life since September 1966, when the first episode of The Monkees aired on television. Following him since that early part of my life has brought me to a greater understanding of the breadth and depth of this man's talents and passions. He was not easy to label or pigeon-hole. 

The Monkees served as his major introduction to the show business world. As a musician, the television process and fantasy might have been difficult to grasp. His wit and sense of humour came through in the acting. Of the many fun episodes, Fairy Tale epitomized the silliness and fun with Mike as his character and as Princess Gwen. It still makes me giggle to think about him calling for help as the princess <smile>. He advocated (though that may not be a strong enough word <grin>) for the group to play the songs they were singing and writing. This did work by their third album, Headquarters. When the show ceased filming, Nez moved on to an amazing musical career with the the First National Band and then as a solo act. Two dear friends introduced me to his solo work with the album Tropical Campfires -- still one of my faves. I love the country and calypso rhythms that weave throughout this album. He also embraced working as a music producer for the Pacific Arts label. I never expected to see him perform live, since his small shows were not close to where I lived and due to his other enterprises, he didn't tour with the other Monkees. Yet, in 2012  he joined Dolenz and Tork on a tour. I attended two of those shows. The first night when he walked out on the stage, I was unsure if this was real. Then he played the Gretsch and began to sing and I knew it was not a dream. His humour showed throughout the shows, but was especially hysterical when he imitated the moog synthesizer for one of the songs. I still giggle over how deeply into that role he dove.  

As an author, Nez wrote the autobiographical Infinite Tuesdays and the amazingly mythical, mystical The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora. His use of words had become clear in his song writing, so finding the wonderfully lyrical prose of his books and poetry was not seen as a surprise but as another gift of his attention to communication details. I found his writing and word choice inspiring. 

This man was a visionary. The First National Band played and recorded country rock before The Byrds, The Eagles and The Flying Burrito Brothers. Nez introduced a video short to go with a song, then promoted the idea of broadcasting videos for songs -- and then MTV was born. With the inheritance from his mother, the inventor of Liquid Paper, Nez hosted annual think tanks to address global issues. During the early days of the internet, Nez wrote Neftoon online with daily sections being made available to readers for feedback. By early days, I mean before interactive web platforms existed. This crowd sourcing feedback for writing  was done by other authors later, but he was the first. Watching his writing process for large sections of that book was fascinating -- to see the crafting of a phrase and a story line felt so intimate. It showed huge vulnerability. So very cool.  

Overall, Nez was a fascinating human being. I will remember him for his great sense of humour, critical thinking with a cerebral bent, and as someone who understood how to use words to explain, entertain and provoke thought. Many of his lyrics are deeply poetic. I share two of these here tonight. The first is from a live performance that shows his delivery of the lyrics well. The second, from the psychedelic era, uses words to paint the most dazzling pictures. This link includes the lyrics, which were sung by Micky Dolenz. I've also included a poem written several years back. I love his poem Cool -- and he was definitely that -- so infinitely cool. 

Cool (For clarity -- Dale was a canine companion) -- poem by Michael Nesmith

Note to self this morning before heading off into the studio:

 

Pray for cool.

So cool. Way cool. Totally cool.

Not the word for temperature.

The word for “how cool is that?”

I cannot replace it with chill.

Chill is not cool. It is too cool for cool. It’s one step over the line.

It is not “the cooler the better.”

Once it’s cool is when it’s cool.

Any cooler than that is not cool. By definition.

Cool explains something in the universal order.

It does not mean “relaxed.”

It means “just enough.”

No more and no less. Supply meeting demand in perfect balance.

It can mean acceptable.

It can mean safe.

I pray for cool as Miles played it. Those notes he chose to play over those key signatures and those scales were unheard before he played them.

They were always there, but he heard them and played them. That was part of why they were cool.

They provided an expanded and more enlightened sense of harmony.

Cool can also mean placid, unperturbed, unthreatened, peaceful.

I pray for this cool as well.

It is a word that speaks to part of the world that has very few words to describe it.

We are all cool, but many do not accept this part of our self.

Fortunately the overarching power of cool is that it  expresses itself.

Dale slowly walked up the driveway yesterday side by side with a young deer, both just hanging out and enjoying each other. They were both cool.

Amazing displays of generosity, virtuosity, humility, peacemaking, unselfishness and love have many times made me turn to a companion who was watching with me and I could only say, “Cool.”

It’s a universal approbation.

It points to something with us at all times. Dependable, embracing, everything we need all the time, just at hand.

It is there, always reachable in our continuous ever-presence, just off to the side, hanging out, showing us how to say, play or sing exactly the right note whenever we need it or want it.

I pray for cool.

Propinquity -- Micheal Nesmith (live performance Glasgow, 2012

Daily Nightly -- The Monkees (written by Michael Nesmith)