I just heard the sad news - - Davy Jones of the Monkees died of a heart attack. I loved the Monkees. I grew up watching them on TV. I remember once telling my dad, in my innocent, youthful way, "Dad, you've got to watch this show, it is sooooooo funny!!" And to my dad's credit, he sat down and watched it with me. I kept looking over at him to see his expression, knowing that he would just be cracking up at everything that Davy, Mike, Peter and Mickey said. I couldn't understand why he wasn't laughing. It was sooooo funny. I realize today in my adulthood that the Monkees wasn't funny to my dad in the same way that The Simpsons isn't funny to me the way it was to my children. I'm old. Not to mention that the humor of the Simpsons is kind of . . . oh, what's the word? Stupid.
Here's to Davy Jones, taking the last train to Clarksville, on his way to the big stage in the sky. And I'll be daydream believing about him all day long.
