Sunday, March 4, 2012

In Memoriam: David Jones

We had to know it was coming sometime. It's simply the length of time that came as a shock. Davy was my favorite for at least the first few years of my Monkees fanship. Somewhere around twelve or so, I began to call my favorite Monkee position a tie between Mr. Jones and Michael Nesmith. But Davy was my first favorite.

That it was so unexpected has to be the thing that makes it the hardest. When Peter Tork was diagnosed with cancer, I was frightened of losing him, but began to prepare myself at least. But maybe it's like the Band-Aid theory: a quick removal hurts the worst, but also for the shortest amount of time, because you aren't lingering over it for ages before it actually happens.

Whatever the case, I will always think of Davy with the same love I had at eight years old, dancing around on a stap-ladder in my room, whilst playing the records for the six-millionth time and singing along with lyrics that were sometimes right, sometimes misguided.

I'm selfishly disappointed that I'll never get to see all four of them together onstage (which was very unlikely anyway, but still). At least I got to see and meet Davy, Peter, and Micky Dolenz on tour last Summer. I got my metal lunchbox signed. Davy asked if I was going to school, a joke I did not immediately catch on to. Then he told me that I should be careful or somebody would "nick" my lunchbox, what with it being so cool. And I got a photo with him. I was obviously over-joyed.

You can't bring back the dead, nor would you really want to. It's a very natural cycle and everything, it's just a surprise when it happens.

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