The 1960’s were confusing, sometimes frightening, and often magical, especially to a teenage girl.
The Viet Nam war was escalating, a generation most often referred to as selfish was disillusioned, the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King were assassinated, their fallen images displayed on the television screen. The world seemed to be in an upheaval. Not much different from today, actually, but in the sixties, we were just beginning to see the stark images of social unrest, war, and death on the small silver screen in our homes. News was mostly morning, dinner, and late evening, not the 24/7 cycle we now live in, and there was a host of entertaining shows on the three major stations at night.
Many of us were glued to our television sets the Sunday night the Beetles came to the Ed Sullivan Show. It was a “reeeeely big shew”. Those mop-headed boys from England made our hearts go pitty-pat – and our parents shake their heads. I do not recall Davy Jones in a performance of “Oliver” on the stage the night the Beetles performed, but he was there performing in “Oliver”. He saw the frenzy of girls screaming and gushing over those young lads from England. The story goes that Davy thought that being in such a band was something he would like to do.
A few years later, he did.
Did you know that the Monkees were assembled expressly for the television show, The Monkees? The only one to audition was Michael Nesmith. They didn’t start out as the Monkees, but as four young men, brought together by the powers-that-be just for the show, which aired between 1967 and 1969. The show was fun, successful, and is credited with being the first format for music videos.
I was so shocked last night when I heard on the news that Davy Jones had died. How could that be, that daydream believer who made me feel like a homecoming queen? Davy and the rest of the Monkees brightened those last years of the sixties with their catchy tunes, their goofy antics, and the way they made the times seem a little less troubling, in only for a half hour or so.
Like a million or so other teenage girls, it was Davy Jones that I had a crush on. He was cute, could sing, and oh, that British accent.
You might like a moment or two with The Monkees and a little daydream believing by clicking here.
Rest in peace, Davy Jones.