Seattle Hilton

The crowd of thirty or so print, T.V., and radio journalists were gathered in one of the smaller ballrooms, clutching their press kits as Barry, Bonnie, and the guys trooped in to sit at a draped and microphone-covered table at the front of the room. The band came first in their accustomed lineup of Davy, Peter, Micky, and Mike and Barry and Bonnie followed, taking the two end seats. Though they'd never actually played live in Seattle, more than a few of the reporters were familiar to Bonnie from other cities and publicity calls. Like musicians, reporters tended to travel a lot, and went where the gigs were. It was second nature to Bonnie and the guys, but Bonnie started by presenting Barry to the group as their "latest road victim" then sat back as he did his usual intro.

"But you're not here to see me, are you, you want to know more about the Monkees tour and the new album they're promoting."

Everyone on the tour had noticed how he never included himself in statements about the tour. Never "we", always "they" or "the Monkees", always jokingly offering Bonnie up as the "go to" for things he supposedly couldn't handle. In reality he carried more than his weight, more than Bob ever had, but always stepped back from the credit (also more than Bob ever had).

When Barry had asked Bonnie how they'd want to handle "out of bounds" stuff, the personal questions that some sap always thought he'd get a scoop on, she told him "They know what to do... Peter will be deeply philosophical, Micky will be zany, David will be charmingly evasive. Nesmith'll just tell 'em to fuck off." When Barry's face went a little weird at that, she laughed. "Just kidding! He'll just drop those bulletproof shades of his and give 'em a stony smirk. Don't worry, it's a familiar scene."

This scene was just as familiar, with a few extras like "Why'd you wait so long to come play here?"

Peter answered honestly, they weren't sure they had much of a following in Seattle. To which Davy added, "We were wrong on that one... had to add another show."

There followed questions about new songs, for the album and for the gigs, and everyone - even Nesmith, who hated press calls almost as much as he hated Don Kirshner - answered with a relaxed mix of irreverence and professionalism.

Then a slick looking guy in wrap-around shades and a Nehru jacket stood and called out, "Jeremy Watts, Weekend Beat. I have a question for Bonnie."

Not a big surprise for this trip; she was in a new role and sometimes was the favored target for throwaway questions.

"Sure, I'm paid to have almost all of the answers, shoot."

"Now that you and Mike have put things back together, how are you handling the girl thing?" When she didn't respond immediately he clarified, "You know, are you able to concentrate on the job without wondering what might be happening out of sight?"

She could tell Barry wanted to let her field this one her way. From the corner of her eye she could see Micky and Peter shaking their heads and muttering, Davy rolling his eyes, Mike giving that sharp little nod that dropped the Ray Bans into "fuck off" position.

Then she looked briefly over the rest of the (mostly annoyed) reporters and invited smoothly, "Next question."

Mr. Weekend Beat wasn't smart enough to give up. "How about you, Mike, is this tour gonna be a test on the domestic front?"

Mike glanced over at Bonnie then glared at the guy and drawled, "You got your answer, slick."

When the guy still didn't sit down, Barry half stood and leaned over the table to peer at the overly-hip Jeremy Watts. "Oh, you do have it."

The reporter was confused. "Have what?"

"Your press kit," Barry explained. "I was concerned for a minute Bonnie had missed you at the handout. Sorry you haven't had time to look at it. Page one of the question guidelines... top line. It says 'personal questions will not be accepted at public press conferences.' So... now we're clear, right?" No response. "Then if there are no more questions? Okay then, we're done. Thanks for coming ladies and gentlemen. Copies of the tour itinerary are on the table near the door as you leave as well as contact information in case you have more questions or need more press materials. Hope to see you at the concert. Both nights."

As they reassembled in the back room, Micky let out a low whistle.

"Well that was a cooler number than I'd have bet on."

Bonnie turned to Barry, who had just joined them wearing a smug grin. "He's right, you were outtasight, thanks for bailing me out."

Micky laughed and pointed at Mike, who was looking equally smug. "No, Bon-bon, him! I figured he'd pull out the flamethrower, but he was so cool I'll bet even Davy felt the chill down the other end." He faked a body-shiver.

"Oh, right."She turned to Barry, who looked a little taken aback that they all seemed so surprised, and admitted, "Remember how I said 'just kidding'? I was just kidding."

It was Mike's turn to look confused. "Kiddin' about what Morris?"

"That you'd never use your favorite version of 'no comment'..."

"You mean 'fuck off'? Hell that was comin' up next," he assured Barry.

Whereupon Micky slapped the latter on the back. "Relax man, you have natural timing. First time I've seen anyone get the jump on Mike. You're gonna do real well with us."