I’m really dating myself here. I spent some formative time watching and listening to The Monkeys. I had most of their albums. I wouldn’t miss a show. And while the Beatles had far more to do with my philosophical disposition, I learned something about joy from the Monkeys and particularly from Davy Jones.
Davy was one of those constants in life, and, by all accounts, extremely genuine. That boy doing the shuffle dance and grinning from ear to ear was the real deal. His smile was trully infectuous. Even though all us boys were jealous of him (the girls my age dearly adored him) I couldn’t help but admire the strength of his pleasantness. In a time when dour and depressed and despondent were an emerging trend, still in vogue to this day, Davy was there with irrepressible optimism.
And the Monkey’s music was really kicking. Listen to many of their songs and there is great quality there. Sure, the early stuff was written by some of the best song writers in Hollywood like Neil Diamond. Most artists still don’t write their own tunes. But the boys found their voice and their musical talents for the brief period they were on the air, and carried enough clout to see their songs produced and promoted. If you get the chance, listen.
A few years ago I had the wonderful opportunity of attending a Davy Jones concert. We were visiting my sister who knows my musical tastes well. She bought us tickets to the event which was hosted at a relatively small venue. After the show, Davy came down and spent several hours with his fans. He was generous with himself and gracious in his disposition. His concert was enchanting. His presence was, as he appears to be, most pleasant.
Davy, from the bottom of my heart, for all those hours I spent hanging out on the sofa watching your antics and the many more hours I spent with my headphones on plugged into your tunes, I will miss the brilliant energy you brought to our planet.