Monkeeing around

This week I got to experience full-time unclehood. My sister-in-law brought my nephews here, but then she went to Taiwan, at the same time that my parents went on a trip that had been planned before there were plans for my nephews to come here.

It made me appreciate parents, as it can be hard to balance cleaning and entertaining and cooking and other things. But I had fun with them. My bucket list is to go to every park in North Salt Lake, and I think there were only two I hadn't been to, so I took them to a new one I hadn't been to before. (The other one is under construction.) It had a spinning device they loved so much that they asked to go back the next night. They didn't like all the mosquitoes, though.

My grandparents really pitched in and watched the boys while I was at work, and on Thursday they had them the whole day, because I had tickets to see the Monkees on their fiftieth-anniversary Good Times! tour.

I don't go to a lot of concerts (I mainly see local artists), but when I happened to see the Monkees were coming through, the site I was on said they hadn't been in Salt Lake City since 1968. I realized that if they hadn't been here in forty-eight years, and one of them is already dead, it was probably the only opportunity I would have in my entire life to see them. And since I exclusively watch terrible 1960s sitcoms, I had to see them.

(Surprisingly, I had barely seen the Monkees TV show; I was more familiar with their music. After I got the tickets, I figured I should know more about them, so I ordered the DVDs of the series's first season, and I've watched the first six episodes. It's not a great show, but it's growing on me.)

My first experience with the Monkees was in high school, when I got a compilation CD in my Christmas stocking. I wasn't thrilled with the gift, as it looked really cheesy, but I listened to it and quite liked it, so much so that I got more Monkees music in the coming year. At that time, I subscribed to the old-fashioned notion that older music is somehow better than modern music. I no longer believe that, but I still do feel like music was at a high point in the 1960s. (Music from the 50s and 80s is mostly an embarrassment.) While I recognize that the Monkees didn't have great music, mainly because they were a made-for-TV band, I still like them--and, in fact, it takes me a lot longer to get bored by their music than by the Beatles, even though I know the Beatles were higher quality.

As for the concert--well, it was enjoyable to see them, but it was a little sad to think about how they're still the Monkees, yet they're not. Davy Jones died four years ago, and Mike Nesmith isn't touring with them. (Which is a shame, because he's my favorite.) They are in their seventies, and it's a sad fact that artists generally aren't as good when they get older. (I recorded forty seconds of them singing "(I'm Not Your) Stepping Stone," but it's an awkward video with lots of strangers getting in the way.)

They squeezed in a lot of songs, including my favorites "What Am I Doing Hangin' Around?" and "Papa Gene's Blues," so there wasn't a lot of talking. But they had some witty comments. Micky Dolenz said they were in their archives and they found a dog with a pet boy named Sherman--although he didn't look like a boy, because he looked more like 70--and they used their Wayback Machine to get the voice of Davy Jones. They had Davy "sing" while they played "Shades of Grey" and "Daydream Believer" live. Peter Tork said that there had been reports that they didn't play their own instruments--which was true, as all their instruments were rented. Then he said, "Everything we touch is rented. Even our fame. I just came up with that, that's quite witty!"

Micky Dolenz is on the left in the black hat, and Peter Tork is on the right in the orange. I like that I snapped my phone at the time the screen was showing the mannequin Mr. Schneider from the series.

And here are Micky and Peter together.

This concert was in honor of the fiftieth anniversary of their show this year, and also in honor of their latest album, Good Times! Their album is surprisingly good--but I think it's mostly good when you consider the fact that it's a record made by senior citizens. But they did manage to get all four Monkees on the album, using archive recordings of Davy Jones.

 

Then my family returned, and I was no longer a full-time uncle. The only souvenir my family got me was a tin full of red, white, and blue M&Ms. (I categorize seasonal candies, and these are a category 3, because the colors are seasonal but the taste is identical to their nonseasonal counterparts. Unique flavors are better.)

Yesterday I ran to Rudy's Flat (in Bountiful's North Canyon) again, which I did three weeks ago. It wasn't as special this time, since I've done it recently. But in its own way, that makes it more special. Three weeks ago it was an accomplishment, but I'm glad that I'm at the point that it's not as big an accomplishment. I went on this trail because it's mostly shady, making it better for a summer day. I went slightly farther and slightly faster this time.

Where I turned around

First we had fields of yellow arrowleaf balsamroot flowers, and then they were replaced by fields of yellow mulesears flowers. Now that the mulesears are dying out, they are being replaced with yellow onehead sunflowers--although I don't think they cover fields as well as the others do.

I also saw some thimbleberry blossoms.

As I was coming down the trail, there was a man off to the side with his dirt bike or motorbike, smoking a cigarette. I don't know about you, but if I'm up on a mountain trail, I'd rather be doing something healthy (like running) than something unhealthy (like smoking).

Last night, I had a dream that we had killed a snake, and we put it in a tart. I was nervous to try it, and when my mom and brother said they didn't like it, I decided I would not try it. Last year I had a dream I was making carrot cake with chicken and mouse meat. And another time last year I dreamed I baked a cake full of bees. Apparently my subconscious is telling me I should kill pests and make them into dessert.