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“I read the news today oh, boy. . .”

March 1, 2012

Dear Davy Jones,

I’m writing you a letter to send off into the digital airwaves in hopes that you might read it as you drift up to Rock Star Heaven.

Let me assure you, I’m not jumping on the posthumous bandwagon.  I already wrote about my love for you (here and here) long before you were eulogized by Deborah Norville.  That posthumous bandwagon?  They haven’t thought about you for decades.  Pay them no attention.  And they’ll probably tack on a footnote that you once played in the musical “Oliver!”

Here there will be no footnote that you once played in the musical “Oliver!”

We weren’t meant to be, you and I.  You were not of my generation.  I had no business loving you.  I should’ve been off hanging out with kids my own age.  Maybe Kirk Cameron, like the rest of teenage-1989.

But thanks to cable reruns, I hung out with The Monkees.  And I think I speak for a lot of women when I say, I watched the show just for you.

In my mind, the other Monkees were just your human props.  Mike was too mature for me.  Peter was too immature for me.  Micky was too Micky for me.  And then there was you.  And maybe a few great songs.  And maybe some Benny Hill-esque shenanigans set to a few great songs.

You were as cute as a teeny-tiny turnip seed.  A normal-sized woman might’ve fit you inside of her back pocket.  You probably would have enjoyed that.  Me, at just 5’1”?  Well, I might’ve fit you inside of my backpack.  You probably would not have enjoyed that.  Unless it had some sort of transparent, net-like window thingy that provided proper ventilation.  And maybe a salt lick and a few cedar sticks to chew on.

1966-Davy.  (Sigh.)  Oh, what a pity that I wasn’t even a zygote back then.   Because we would’ve made beautiful, freakishly short children.

And those children would have had no trouble at all finding parts as gnomes or Oompa Loompas or garden shrubs in their high school plays.  Then a talent scout would spot them and they’d be snatched up by Hollywood because of their unique ability to play 9-year-olds for 35 years.

Oh, what might’ve been.

I’m sure the rest of the Bradys would agree — despite you donning a pre-‘80s mullet, you were the best celebrity cameo ever to try to shag a teenage Marcia Brady.  You put even Desi Arnaz, Jr. to shame.  And Joe Namath, too.  Well, he was Bobby’s crush so that’s neither here nor there.

I’d like to close by honoring you, the Davy Jones I wish to remember.

I don’t really know what you’re doing in this iconic video for Daydream Believer.  You’re snapping.  You’re clapping (a little off-beat).  You’re lip-synching (a little off-sync).  You’re trying to play a duet with Peter.  He doesn’t seem to like that.  You’re desperately hoping Micky will hand you back your tambourine so you’ll have something to do with your stumpy little fingers.

You poor thing, you’re just knocking yourself out to appear relevant here, what with the way that everyone scoffed at you for calling yourself a musician.

And then finally, mid-song, you realize something.  All you really need to do to be loved is that odd little dance that makes you look like a bell-bottomed leprechaun.

A bell-bottomed leprechaun that I want to make sweet, sweet love to.

Said a 1989-Angie who believed “make sweet, sweet love to” means passionate necking.

And said a 2012-Angie who knows exactly what it means and wants her husband to know here that she loves him very much.

Rest in peace, Davy.  I hope to see you on the other side.  (I hope that won’t be for a few more decades.)  I hope you’ll look just like 1966-Davy.  With no mullet.  But that little gold tassel necklace?  Yes, please wear that.



P.S.  Sorry, Davy, that I opened this letter with a line from a Beatles song.  I always get The Monkees and The Beatles mixed up.  Oh, except for the fact that The Beatles were actual musicians and not like, say, former Broadway actors who played in the musical “Oliver!”

73 Comments leave one →
  1. March 1, 2012 2:31 pm

    I cannot begin to express how dear this is to me. My sister and I were devastated the day we discovered that those same cable re-runs were, in fact, re-runs. We ardently believed The Monkees were of the same Kirk Cameron generation that we were appropriately adoring. Until, that is, The Monkees’ reunion tour hit the advertising circuit, and our little girl hearts shattered in a million pieces.

    Thank you. Best eulogy ever.

    • March 1, 2012 2:48 pm

      Said sister reporting in…yes, this is wonderful. So wonderful.

      Thank you.

      • March 1, 2012 3:02 pm

        Thanks for stopping in! I’m just sorry that there isn’t more Davy to go around. I don’t really want to share him.

    • March 1, 2012 3:01 pm

      Yes! It was devastating, wasn’t it? Suddenly you realize that your teenage crush looks no longer swoon-worthy but like an old man with a mullet (oh, how I remember that mullet from The Monkees reunion tour).

      Fortunately, loving Peter Brady didn’t provide the same shock to the system. I saw him in present day 1989 and still thought, Rrrrrrow.

      Thanks for sending your sister on over to wallow with us in Davy love.

  2. March 1, 2012 2:31 pm

    You don’t disappoint, Angie. I knew you’d pay homage Davy Jones.

    • March 1, 2012 3:03 pm

      Thanks, Paprika. I aim to please. The news really did shake me up a bit.

  3. Carol permalink
    March 1, 2012 2:47 pm

    I too loved Davy… I was going to marry him! I was (very) young, but I watched his show…yes, it was HIS show (to me) every Saturday, while growing up in the late ’60s.

    Here is a link to a very touching story, and thought you might appreciate it as well.

    • March 1, 2012 3:26 pm

      Thank you oh so much for sharing this, Carol. It brought tears to my eyes. I’m such a sap! I loved hearing that a little Richard Marx said “Where’s Davy?” to Micky. Yep, the story of his life, I’m sure.

      Wow, 5’4″! I would’ve given him another inch at least. Geesh!

    • March 1, 2012 6:00 pm

      That was beautiful. I am so glad to have clicked that link! Thanks Carol.

      • March 2, 2012 8:27 pm

        Yep. It’s like I fell in love with him all over again.

  4. March 1, 2012 2:51 pm

    They were, TOO real musicians. I’m so verklempt right now, I can’t tell you. Thanks for putting sweet, sweet words to what is in so many hearts today. (although I can’t help feeling a gratuitous reference to that Great Train Station In The Sky -to catch the train to, you know where- would not have come amiss.)

    • March 1, 2012 3:05 pm

      Mike and Peter, yes. Micky and Davy, no. But they learned to be, right? That’s all that matters.

      That would’ve been a great post title, Peg. Where were you when I needed you? Oh, yes, “working”. ;)

      (For the record, I don’t get The Beatles mixed up with The Monkees. Note that my son is named Jude and not Sleepy Jean.)

  5. March 1, 2012 5:40 pm

    Hours before I heard about Davy Jones’ passing, “Daydream Believer” was floating about in my head. That’s freaky. I hadn’t even known about him being sick or having health problems. RIP

    I too watched “The Monkees” on Nick at Nite as a kid. They were really entertaining to watch.

    • March 2, 2012 8:31 pm

      That’s very strange in a Time-Life Books psychic happenings series sort of way. I’m glad it was Daydream Believer. For some reason, that’s the song I forever associate with him.

  6. March 1, 2012 5:52 pm

    There is WAY too much in that video, Angie.

    1. What’s with Mickey’s hair. I loved Mickey (when I outgrew Davy) and his hair did not look like that.

    2. Those stripes, I think are more “White Rabbit” than “Daydream Believer”

    3. What was that flushing sound at the end. I rushed down here to start my hilarious comments and couldn’t see it; If I look now I will loose said hilarious comment and you wouldn’t want that, now would you?

    Davy, RIP. I loved you once– REAL TIME. I’ll love your music forever.

    • March 2, 2012 8:34 pm

      1. I can’t remember his hair looking any way but crazy. I think there was a time that I thought Micky was where it was at. But then he’d scrunch up his face in his signature way and make his eyes cross and I’d think, Davy is looking good.

      2. Yes, they’re quite trippy, aren’t they.

      3. Stupid MTV2 sound. It was the only youtube video I could find without an intro commercial — but then there was that buzz-killer at the end. I would never want you to sacrifice a hilarious comment to listen to a toilet flush.

  7. March 1, 2012 6:21 pm

    Such a loss. Blessings to you.

  8. March 1, 2012 6:35 pm

    I was thinking of you when I heard the news. Brilliant eulogy. Didn’t and won’t read anyone else’s. Although I did watch Matt Lauer interview Micky Dolenz for five seconds before I found playing with my son’s Fisher Price airport far more fascinating.

    • March 2, 2012 8:39 pm

      Because I’m a Dionne Warwick-approved psychic, I guessed that Deborah Norville broke the news about Davy. And I’ve since read in a news article that she was in fact the first one to cover it, tears and all. Ah, where would we be without Inside Edition and The Today Show except a whole lot smarter.

      I see your Fisher Price airport and I raise you a Fisher Price parking garage. I practically never leave the house now.

  9. March 1, 2012 6:59 pm

    It was a great time when the show originally aired – I remember it so well. My four sisters were certainly fans of his!

    • March 1, 2012 7:00 pm

      Your FIVE sisters. :)

      • March 2, 2012 8:30 am

        wait a sec–you two are related? Explains a lot.

      • March 2, 2012 8:36 am

        I adopted him or he adopted me. I can’t recall which one.

      • March 2, 2012 8:42 am

        ahhhh…I see, I see. Well, thank goodness you have each other.

      • March 2, 2012 8:41 pm

        Aww, I feel like a big group hug is in order here. Like you two were separated at birth and just met for the first time on Reunion.

    • March 2, 2012 8:40 pm

      It’s okay, MJ. You can admit that you were, too. I just read (above comment, link) manly Richard Marx confess that he was a die-hard Davy fan.

      P.S. Did you ever say things like, “I’m just buying this album for my sisters”?

  10. March 1, 2012 7:11 pm

    Cute as a button. Both of you. I’m going to go out and buy some striped pants right now.
    We’re playing this weekend in Berkeley–we’re gonna do some Monkees songs.

    • March 2, 2012 8:44 pm

      I thought you owned striped pants already? Didn’t you write about the time you were — oh I’m going to screw this up — cleaning windows at a bank in the 80s and wearing striped pants that made you look like a parade Uncle Sam on stilts? Then you got hit on by a man and knew the look really worked for you. Remember?

      Did you see Davy’s black bellbottoms paired with white patent leather shoes? Now that’s the look you should sport this weekend, if you really want to honor him that is.

  11. russelllindsey permalink
    March 1, 2012 7:18 pm

    Reblogged this on Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde and commented:
    Seriously. How could I NOT reblog this? Best letter to a dead celebrity I’ve ever read. It is also the best explanation of the Beatles versus Monkees I’ve ever come across. Again, do yourself a favor and read the whole thing.


    • March 2, 2012 8:48 pm

      Best letter to a dead celebrity you’ve ever read? Oh, Lindsey, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Now I feel a challenge to top myself. Next week: Dear Mr. Rogers.

      • russelllindsey permalink
        March 3, 2012 7:08 am

        bawahaha…. Looking forward to that one!


  12. russelllindsey permalink
    March 1, 2012 7:19 pm

    Your posts just keep getting better and better. You and I must have similar sense of humor or something. I had to reblog you – again.


  13. March 1, 2012 7:59 pm

    You crack me up. I loved the Monkees but caught them much later on, too late for crushes and all, but not too late to do the funky Monkee walk down the street, gettin’ the funniest looks from, everyone I meet…

    • March 2, 2012 8:52 pm

      MM, this is the second time you’ve referenced on my blog that you are known to dance around like a wild lady at any given moment (neighbors watching, who cares). I’m guessing you were loads of fun in college. Between the two of us, I don’t know who would’ve been holding whose hair.

  14. March 1, 2012 9:37 pm

    What a lovely letter and tribute to Davy, Angie. I am certain he’d come over and sit on your couch, if he were still alive. After all, it wasn’t really all about Marcia! Marcia! Marcia!

    Watching the video reminded me of what a friend said yesterday, “Davy Jones. I loved you and the dance that Axl Rose stole from you.” Hahahahahaha!

    • March 2, 2012 8:54 pm

      You just BLEW MY MIND, Lenore! I am not kidding that I kept thinking, where have I seen that dance before? A leprechaun? My dog digging a hole in our backyard? My kid trying to hold his pee? Nope, Axl Rose. That punk. Yet another reason that I’ve lost the love for Axl.

  15. March 2, 2012 12:02 am

    :, (

  16. March 2, 2012 7:36 am

    I could not watch the video without tearing up. The only decent thing that ever came out of MTV was the syndication of the Monkees. I have often felt that I was born into the wrong decade.

    • March 2, 2012 8:59 pm

      Me too on the tearing up thing. I think it’s not only seeing him in his boyish splendor but also that song that does me in. Something about the song and the pure, unbridled joy I used to feel when the four Monkees would dance and yuk it up together.

      I was supposed to grow up in 1920s in Paris. Woody Allen stole from me.

  17. March 2, 2012 8:34 am

    Angie, you’ve outdone yourself. This was brilliant and perfect. I am dying laughing and also crying big time. (the line, “And maybe a salt lick and a few cedar sticks to chew on.” made me laugh and cry)

    I saw the Monkees on their reunion tour in the early 80s when I was in high school. I spent the entire concert standing up and dancing with my friends (and blocking the view of the unlucky row behind me)–but I had to try and get Davy’s attention somehow! And it worked. Halfway through Daydream Believer we locked eyes and fell in love. But then Micky got jealous so it didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. Sigh.

    • March 2, 2012 9:04 pm

      Oh, Darla! Why is it you always have a story to add that makes me feel suddenly willing to have grown up in snow-covered Maine with a bazillion brothers in order to have lived your life?

      Although, I can tell you for damn sure that I wouldn’t have been in the break room of the Yankee Candle Company eating Chef Boyardee while David Schwimmer was shopping for scented wax tarts.

      • March 3, 2012 1:13 pm

        Are you saying I blew it with Davy AND David Schwimmer?! Cuz you’d be right on both counts. I could have been so rich. Just think of all the ravioli I could be out buying right now .

      • March 3, 2012 1:28 pm

        That’s a lot of “meat-like substance” to ingest.

  18. John-Paul permalink
    March 2, 2012 11:09 am

    A wildly influential band. Entertainment executives suddenly realised they could create bands and/or run TV shows about kids in bands and they’ve been doing it ever since. Still, how can you not feel sad that the man who sang Daydream Believer is dead? I have this sinking feeling that I am gradually moving into a time of life when I will be reading more and more articles about my childhood stars passing away.

    • March 2, 2012 9:09 pm

      Wow, excellent point on the inception of manufactured bands. You’re spot-on there.

      The celebrity deaths that have thus far hit me the hardest were John Candy, John Ritter, Jim Henson, Gilda Radner and Mr. Rogers. None being of my generation. So I can imagine once the Gen X stars start dropping like flies, I’ll be crying for the loss and the fact that I’m getting old.

  19. March 2, 2012 1:13 pm

    What are your thoughts on Bobby Sherman (he’s still alive)?
    Great post. I was sort of a Micky girl although I liked Davy, too.

    • March 2, 2012 1:29 pm

      Yay! Another Mickey girl!

      • March 2, 2012 9:14 pm

        Funny guys are sexy. He sort of reminds me a bit of Robin Williams. (I hope that won’t make you hurl, since you once compared your son to Robin Williams.)

    • March 2, 2012 9:12 pm

      He was pretty sexy. I’m guessing this was your teen idol of choice? I love that he later became a police officer. You know who else did? Eddie Haskell. Truly.

      I went through a Peter and a Micky phase but Davy was my true love. You never hear “I was a Michael fan,” do you?

      • March 3, 2012 1:16 pm

        I was a Michael fan.

      • March 3, 2012 1:27 pm

        NOOOOOOOO! You just blew my theory. Oh, Darla. Always going against the grain, even as a youth.

      • March 3, 2012 1:47 pm

        I was teasin’. Your theory is intact. What’s this about I always go against the grain? what are you trying to tell me? That I’m a freak? An outcast? A—okay, even I know I’m overdoing the fake indignation now.

      • March 3, 2012 4:05 pm

        I was thinking more rebel, cool like the Fonz sort of thing but perhaps freak embodies all of this.

      • March 3, 2012 4:06 pm

        And you even wrote “A” like the Fonz said. Or, wait, was that Rocky?

  20. March 2, 2012 6:04 pm

    i didn’t know they were the singers behind Daydream Believer! i love it. sorry a childhood crush passed. assuming i stick around enough to see it, i don’t look forward to the day when rob thomas dies. with that, goes my teenage years (spent in a car).

    • March 2, 2012 9:17 pm

      Yes, it’s all very sad. Too bad The Monkees aren’t streaming on Netflix or I’d make you check it out. ;) Rob Thomas — really? I maybe would’ve went for him if he had a different hairstyle. He was sporting a Bieber ‘do while Bieber was still pooping his pants.

  21. March 2, 2012 8:03 pm

    My sisters and I were HUGE Monkees fans. My mom was, too. Davy Jones actually lived close to our hometown in the later parts of life and he signed my sister’s yearbook when she ran into him at a sub shop. Later, he called her on the phone. Awkward.

    • March 2, 2012 9:22 pm

      Oh no! Don’t ruin it for me! Sure, I guessed he probably later became a creepy old man that hit on high school girls (his widow looked to be 22) but I don’t want to have actual proof! What? I can’t hear you, Nicki. Lalalalalalalalaalalalalalala.

      • March 5, 2012 1:51 pm

        Oh, I’m sorry! It was more funny, really. He wanted to talk about the book he was writing and get her address so he could send her an autographed copy when it came out. It must not have ever come out, though, cause she never got a copy.

    • March 5, 2012 8:55 pm

      That makes me feel much, much better! Still obviously hitting on her but in a discreet way that makes him seem less delusional.

  22. March 3, 2012 6:55 am

    Love this post, Angie. When I heard the news, I knew you’d write about it!!

    • March 5, 2012 9:34 am

      Thanks for reading, Joanne! From here on out, you can probably depend on me writing about any teen idol that may happen to croak.

  23. March 4, 2012 1:59 pm

    Hey Angie,
    I just awarded you the Queen of Tag. Oh, that’s not right…I get all these WordPress chain mail things mixed up…okay so here’s the thing, you answer some questions, you spread light around the world and the asteroid won’t hit Earth sometime in February 2013.

    For further info:

  24. March 7, 2012 11:31 am

    His job was to be adorable. *sigh*

  25. Timoree permalink
    March 9, 2012 10:31 am

    Is it odd that until around 1989 that I didn’t know that the Monkees was not in fact a current show? It was the same way with the Brady Bunch. My parents almost had to commit me when I figured out that Greg Brady wasn’t in fact still 16 years old and attainable to date…

    • March 10, 2012 8:53 pm

      Not at all. If you read the other post comments, someone else mentioned that it shattered her world to learn that it was not taking place in real time. I think in my case I believed that I actually was born in that era so I was in a delusional state all my own.

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