“I was unpopular because I was ugly and the kids didn’t like me. . .I didn’t do well in school so I would cut classes. . .I ran away from home two times, because I got the urge to leave. . .Why they chose me as a Monkee I don’t know, but I’m glad they did!”
It’s very hard for me to write about my life, since I can’t remember farther back than two years! I don’t think there’s much of a percentage in remembering back farther than that, because I had a tough childhood.
I was born in Houston, Texas and when I was six years old my mother and I moved to a piece of land she inherited in Dallas. We were very poor. Lack of food was one noticeable sign of our condition. I remember being hungry a lot.
I couldn’t keep up with other kids because I went to a pretty rich school due to the weird zoning of school districts. I was unpopular, because I was ugly. The kids would yell at me, “Hey, Nesmith, you’re ugly!” And “Hey, kid, you’re skinny!” That’s why I’ve forgotten a lot about my youth.
An Ugly Skinny Kid
I tried to make friends up until I was about sixteen or seventeen. I was an ugly, skinny kid that had a horrible personality. I’m not quite sure what I did not to have friends, but I guess I was just not with it.
I didn’t do well in school. I was interested in things like where chalk came from, but nobody cared whether or not you knew where chalk came from. Things like how much money the janitors made or how the boiler worked–I was really interested in that sort of thing. I would cut classes to go to and try to find out these things.
There were some people who sort of accommodated me, but no one really said “This guy really has such a desire to learn such and such.” There was one third grade teacher that used to let me sit and read. I’d read all these little weird books and never listen to the lesson. She passed me, she was nice.
Failed in High School
I didn’t start failing really badly until high school. I remember my high school pretty well. High school was the most noticeable drag! High school kids are such a drag! Not all high school kids, but my high school kids. They were coming to me, because they were very wrapped up in themselves and their huge social system. They used to laugh at me. I imagine I did weird things, but I don’t know what because if I knew I would’ve quit doing them. I really didn’t like them laughing at me.
I suppose one of the reasons I didn’t get along too well is that I love pulling pranks. I had my own conception of fun, which was nobody else’s conception of fun. I do a lot of very weird things.
Out Of It Librarian
We had a librarian named Mosel. Oh yeah, she was a drag! I don’t know what most librarians are like, but this librarian was really out of it! She used to give me a hard time. I’d be sitting around, minding my own business, not really making any trouble at all. She’d do these incredible numbers about how I’d better shut up or I would really be in trouble. So, one time I got totally fed up with the whole scene.
I got together about twenty-five buddies of mine. I mean, they weren’t exactly buddies. What would happen is these guys would respond to my little ideas I had. They would say “Ha, ha, Nesmith came up with a cool one.” Actually, they all hated me. But we’d pull off a great trick, then they would all take credit for it and I would sit home on Friday nights while they went out.
Anyway, about twenty-five of us went and checked out about fifty books each (there was no limit). Oh, Mosel, was so happy about it because it was National Book Week and we were all reading and she was really glad. We check them out at different times, so she had no idea what was going on.
Practical Joker
Then one Tuesday we all got together and took them back! Like at 2 o’clock in the morning she was in there stamping and filing books-“zero, nine is before zero, zero sixteen…”-Trying to get them all back on the shelves. It was a riot!
I used to walk out of class a lot. The teacher would yell at me “you come back here!” And I go whistling down the hall. I don’t really understand why they never expelled me from school. They put me on detention for seven days, though. I just had to stay after school for fifty-five minutes every day. I would really make them mad because I never got upset. I’d sit and read the Saturday Evening Post or study. I‘d utilize my time in some way. Although I’d never studied lessons and I carefully avoided history, which I hated.
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