THE PASSING OF AN IDOL

 

I was at work today when I heard the news that Davy Jones, a member of The Monkees rock group which began in 1966, had died from a heart attack at the age of 66.  

I immediately flew back in time to me as a freshman watching The Monkees on television and so madly in love with Davy Jones.  So many girls swooned over these teenage idols, counterparts to the Beatles. 

I had a collection of pictures of Davy, while my sister swooned over Mickey Dolenz.  

In 1975 Davy Jones, Mickey Dolenz, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart (the latter 2 wrote many songs)

toured as the Monkees.

I was working at a Shakey's Pizza Parlor located in Southern California near Disneyland on the corner of Harbor and Ball (no longer there) serving beer, wine, and soda.  I stood behind the bar while people would belly up to it and sit on bar stools. One of the young men who worked there was always talking about the famous people he knew.  He would go to movie studio auctions and buy some unusual things.  In his apartment he had a chariot which had been used in the movie Ben Hur long ago.

Well, he knew I had swooned over Davy Jones and still had quite a soft spot in my heart for him.  This friend asked me if I would like to meet Davy. He said he could bring him in to meet me on the weekend a few nights later.  Not really believing him, I said, "Sure, bring him on down."  

A few nights later around 11 pm I stood in the large low lit room behind the bar washing glasses and mugs.  Then the double doors opened and I saw my friend enter and hold one side open.  He had a huge smile on his face.  In walked Mickey Dolenz.  I recognized him right away and could hardly believe my eyes.  Mickey waved at we few employees who stood there.  Then in walked Davy Jones and my heart began pounding.  It was really him!  He was smiling!  The next 2 people I did not know by sight, but they turned out to be the song writers Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart.  My eyes were focused on Davy Jones.

They all went to sit at one large table down in the front near the famous Nickelodeon musical band machine which encompassed one huge wall.   As the four talked and laughed, my friend and fellow coworker came up to order pizza, chicken and drinks.  

"There he is. I told you I would bring Davy Jones in.  Wanna meet him?"

I was still in shock.  Here I was, a skinny stick of a girl 22 years old, wearing a silly striped apron and not at all dolled up.  My hair was a mess and I probably smelled like winey beer!  

I was reluctant to walk over to them.  My friend took drinks and mugs to the group and I saw him lean over and speak to Davy.  Be still my heart!!  Davy was about 28 years old at the time. As my friend spoke, he looked up at me and pointed.  Davy glanced over and waved and smiled that adorable smile of his.

I felt I must have been glowing red.  Then Davy rose, picked up his mug, and walked across the room towards me, all the time with a smile on his face.  It seemed as if he moved in slow motion.

Now you have to imagine his accent--

"Hello there.  I was told you would like to meet me. My name is Davy." He held out his hand and I reached for it.  I cannot remember letting go, but I must have, as he sat at a bar stool and began to chat with me.  

Somehow I managed to relax, and we chatted, he asking me about myself-what I like to do, how old I was, did I enjoy their music, had I ever been to London.  We had a very nice conversation and he listened intently to all I said.  In fact, he took me over to introduce me to the others,had them all sign a napkin for me (only thing handy) and then returned to sit at the bar and continue visiting with me for a couple of hours as he sipped and ate.   He was so nice.

When the others said they had to go, he asked me for a kiss.  I walked around from behind the bar and up to him as he sat perched on the bar stool. He put his arms at my waist and drew me close to him and kissed me.

It was a sweet kiss, not sloppy or with tongue. 

I felt like I was in a dream.

Then he held my hands and asked if he could have my phone number.

And this is where I got stupid.  I told him I had a boyfriend and could not do that.

I know, I know.  All my friends said I was so stupid, too.

But I was a good girl.  I was a true blue girl. 

He said goodbye, said maybe he would come back in and chat another time.

He never did.

And he probably would not have called me, but I will never know.

He did give a young girl a memory of a life time.

If you are interested in the history of the Monkees, you can watch a show here at the Smithsonian Channel:

http://www.smithsonianchannel.com/site/sn/show.do?show=133957