Davy Jones

I held my first Monkee Spectacular magazine in my hand. My dad stood beside me as I sat on the floor. I recall we waited for the dentist to arrive. I also recall being mesmerized by man on the cover: Davy Jones.

I looked at my dad and asked: "Isn't he cute?" My dad asked me who the man was. I could not believe Dad didn't know! I'm sure my dad thought I was nuts. Yea, nuts in LOVE at eight years old.

This photo was taken in Des Moines, Iowa around 1987. Davy sang "I Wanna Be Free." This was the closest I was going to get Davy and the rest of the Monkees, to my own backyard.

Davy's pictures from the teenybopper magazines were the first I put up on my wall. And the first my Mom said I had TOO many pictures up and made me take them down. I hated Marcia Brady when Davy showed up at her house after she lied to everybody that she could get Davy to come their prom. She even got to kiss Davy on the cheek. Bitter. I STILL am.

The "cute" Monkee is now part of Heaven's choir. I am sure is Davy play the tambourine better than the rest. The deaths of Michael Jackson, and recently Whitey Houston, touched me. Yet, there's something about Davy.

Davy was/is such a part of my youth. Now he's gone. Davy's passing shines the light of mortality.

No matter what, Davy will always be that "Daydream Believer."

Rest Davy. Rest.

Friday Flight

Friday. Finally. Made it to work by 7am, instead of my usual 8am. It was still dark when I left.
Not feelin' any of that!
Anyway made it there. Quite busy and I am tired.
Yea, I gotta write some 1500 word paper on the History of Minority of Child Welfare US system...I left out a word in all that, but does it really matter?
It ain't code for "your screenplay is being fought over by Spike Lee and Stephen Spielberg~
Naw, not quite.
Even so it's Friday. I got cats. TV. Ice cream.
And a smile from a long ago day courtesy of The Monkees---with Davy Jones, who was the first older' man I ever fell in love with.....
It don't get any better than this!

TeenyBopper Tears

The other day, I'd mentioned David Cassidy and Davy Jones were to appear in concert about 15 miles from my house. I really beat myself up I didn't spend the 82 bucks and change to go see them. After all, Davy Jones is still cute, even if he's over 60.

I pictured women, like myself, who wondered what color to cover their gray hair, but then were transported back to those great bubblegum pop days, where tomorrow's history test was the biggest trauma, plus you had to actually talk to your BFF--since texting and cell phones hadn't been invented heck. Heck, I remembered carrying a dime around for the pay phone. Anyway, I was pretty mad at myself for not going.

Then I read the concert's review. And I'm not so mad at myself anymore.

Oh well. I still have a sweet Bubble Yum kinda memory.

THE MONKEES - DAYDREAM BELIEVER
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