The Monkees finally hit the big time. They score a recording contract and a national tour, and become a sensation. Even as they sell millions of records and play to packed concert halls, however, they struggle for artistic and creative freedom, co...
The end of the Monkees was just like how Simon & Garfunkel sang about at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967 — the sound of silence. Suddenly there were no phone calls, and no early morning alarm clocks ringing. And just as Micky's career was winding down to a standstill, Gabby's was shooting off like a rocket. She had been keeping her eye on a small but important national organization that had been attempting to open field offices in major cities all over the country and was looking to recruit a director for the Los Angeles branch. The National Organization For Women was formed in 1966, its statement of purpose reading "the time has come to confront, with concrete action, the conditions that now prevent women from enjoying the quality of opportunity and freedom of choice which is their right, as individual Americans, and as human beings." Its main issues were women's reproductive rights, equality under the law, pay equity, preventing gender discrimination, and trying to get the Equal Rights Amendment to the U.S. Constitution passed.
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Gabby had been to the group's headquarters in Washington, D.C. twice for interviews with various founding members. It was the beginning of October, and she was just walking in the door from her third and final interview when she found Micky asleep on the couch, one dog lying across his legs and the other across his chest. She smiled and walked over to him and stroked his curls from his forehead.
"Hey, Sleepymop. It's the middle of the day. Don't you have some mad science experiment or piece of furniture to be working on?"
Micky stirred and Oodles, taking great offense to his sleep being disturbed, jumped off the couch in a huff. Schmooshy was made of sterner stuff and continued to snort like a truffle pig. Cracking open one eye, Micky winced from the brightness of the sunlight and said "Ouch, it's day? I was dreaming so hard I thought it must be night."
"That's because you've got your days and nights mixed up. When did you go to sleep last night?"
"Oh, I think it musta been about three. There was a Godzilla triple feature that I just had to watch."
Gabby crossed her arms and looked at him dubiously. "Micky, you can't go on like this. You're not taking good care of yourself. I know you've been through three years of exhausting activity, but your body is all out of whack. And I'm not sure your mind is in any better shape. Maybe you ought to think about visiting that therapist you used to see."
Micky sat up abruptly and the dog slid down into his lap, now seriously annoyed but too lazy to follow the other dog's example and have a snit by jumping off the couch. "Now wait a minute, Gabby, I'm just trying to get my feet under me after a pretty heavy duty chapter of my life ending. It's not like I'm whacked out like I was back when I got mauled by that girl."
Gabby scooted Micky's legs out of the way so that she could join him on the couch. "I know that, my Micky. I'm not saying you're out of your tree or on the ledge. I'm just saying that I think you've been through a life-altering experience that few if any people go through or can understand, and you might be taking it out on your body and mind in a way that's not healthy. You might find it helpful to have someone professional to talk to about it. I could be wrong, though. Maybe you just need to talk to one of the guys. Why don't you give Davy a call and see how he's doing, maybe get together with him?"
