Hey! Hey! Micky Dolenz is Triestine!

A generation removed from far northeastern Italy, Micky Dolenz skyrocketed to fame as a driving force behind one of America’s most beloved ’60s pop groups and he’s still performing today.

“Hey! Hey! We’re the Monkees!” was a familiar ditty that drew so many of us to our black-and-white television sets with the “bunny-ear” antennas on Monday evenings in the mid-’60s. For me, it was the Saturday morning reruns of the ’70s that bound me to America’s Marx Brothers-esque answer to the Mop-Top British Invasion.

Davy Jones, the British heartthrob and tambourine playing vocalist; Peter Tork, the simple, soft-spoken bassist; and Michael Nesmith, the shy, wool-cap-wearing guitarist fronted for a multi-talented drummer and vocalist sporting wild hair and a sense of humor to match named Micky Dolenz.

Although Micky was born in Los Angeles in 1945, the Dolenz side of his family had quite the journey to America. His father, Giorgio, was born in Trieste, Italy, but left the country to avoid Mussolini’s draft, working for a while as a waiter on a steamship that operated between Cuba and Florida.

In 1934, he “jumped ship,” hearing of the wealth of opportunities on the West Coast of America. Looking to capitalize on his good looks and charm, Giorgio made his way to the booming entertainment mecca of Hollywood.

As most aspiring actors did, Giorgio took a job as a waiter, finding a maître d’ position at the legendary Café Trocadero on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles. “The story goes that my dad met Howard Hughes in the restroom and he signed him on the spot!” Micky says with a laugh.

The newly minted “George” Dolenz was able to land bit parts and a few supporting and lead roles after Hughes put him under contract at RKO Pictures. That’s where he met his wife-to-be, Janelle Johnson, an actress who gave up her career to be a full-time mom to Micky and his three younger sisters.

“We never lived in Hollywood. I was born on a chicken ranch and grew up mucking out the horses,” Micky recalls. “I would visit my father on set, but if my friends asked what my father did, I said, ‘mow the lawn,’ because 90% of the time he wasn’t acting.”

Micky was never pressured into show business, he explains, but it seemed only natural to follow in his father’s footsteps.

“When I was 10, my mother convinced me to audition for a show called ‘Circus Boy,’” he says. “I remember saying no at first. I had a baseball game. But I must have changed my mind because I got the part and that changed my life in one fell swoop. Even at 10, I knew it was a game-changer. I spent two years on the show and definitely got bit by the bug.”

Micky’s father got him into music around that time. “I learned classical guitar and loved it. But when I took my little guitar to parties, I discovered that the girls preferred The Kingston Trio to Segovia and soon I was playing rock ’n’ roll,” he recalls.

When he talks about his “Ital-icity,” he says, “My dad had many of his same Italian friends throughout his life. There were always card games with loud Italian words attached. A lot of eating and a lot of arguing.”

Micky refers to the area where he grew up as a “salad bowl” of ethnic groups. “My mom was a Texan, so we didn’t have very many Sunday pasta dinners. But still to this day, certain smells from an Italian restaurant will bring me back to those times with my dad,” he says.

Micky was 17 when his father died. “It was traumatic,” he shares. “He was only 55. He had bought a restaurant and was always working and I was out with my friends doing the Sunset Strip thing. I never really had the chance to talk to him about our family roots.

“But I definitely feel a connection to my Italian blood,” he says. “And by the way, my wife, Donna, is a southern Italian from Philly. Yep, I feel it!”

While Micky was a college student in 1965, he auditioned for a show based on an off-the-wall concept put forth by Don Kirshner. The iconic producer wanted to populate a sitcom about a fictional band with quasi-musicians hired more for their looks and personalities than their musical talents.

Since Micky was a guitarist and bassist but not originally a drummer, Peter taught him to “mime” playing the drums. But by the time the show took off and they were to start touring, Micky learned how to play the drums for real.

Even though he was only 21 when The Monkees went out on tour, Micky was instrumental in creating “Monkeemania.” “I saw this great guitarist, very theatrical. I thought he would be great to open for us on our first tour,” he says. That guitarist was Jimi Hendrix.

“I even auditioned to be ‘The Fonz’ on ‘Happy Days,’” he says. “It came down to me and Henry Winkler. But I was taller than Ron Howard, so they went with Henry. Thank God!”

Sixty years after its inception, The Monkees remain one of America’s best-loved bands. Mickey is still touring, and I’ve been fortunate to present him at my theaters for the last two decades. As the sole surviving member of the band, he is appreciative and generous with his fans, and his onstage humor still shines through.

“It’s still fun to do the shows but getting there is the tough part,” he says. “It’s still better than it was back then. We would film 10 to 12 hours a day, then rehearse the tours and record the albums on the weekends. I was 21 years old then. I’m 78 now and still on the road!”

When we do shows with Micky, the fans stream in sporting faded Monkees T-shirts and carrying vintage albums and Tiger Beat magazines with a young Micky on the cover. His sister Gemma Marie, or “Coco,” joins him onstage, doing a few songs herself. It’s a fun, family affair of Monkees memories.

The show is a no-holds-barred sing-along to “Last Train to Clarksville,” “Pleasant Valley Sunday” and “I’m a Believer,” plus so many other tunes that bring the crowd back to simpler days. But my favorite times are the backstage conversations we have before one of his always-fabulous performances.

“How we lookin’ out there?” Micky will ask me, referring to the tickets sold for the evening. “Another full house, Micky!,” I’ll reply. Then he’ll relax into his chair with a comforted smile. “It’s gonna be a good night,” he’ll say.

Yes, I’m blessed to work with these pop-culture icons. I love the downtime before the show when they’re mere mortals. But make no mistake, when 78-year-old Micky Dolenz is onstage, he’s still that budding 21-year-old superstar!

The article above appears in the January 2025 issue of the print version of Fra Noi. Our gorgeous, monthly magazine contains a veritable feast of news and views, profiles and features, entertainment and culture. To subscribe, click here.