esrosedotblog

DAVY JONES LOCKER

I am at the age where everyone is dying. Except me, so far.

Often there is little surprise in this. The people who passed were either older than me or the same age.

The ones who surprise are the ones that I presume were younger or were, in fact, younger. In this case much younger

Davy Jones, Monkees Singer, Dies at 66

I was a fan of this show and Davy was my favorite. By a long shot.

He was funny, he was very handsome and above all, he was short.

I am a connoisseur of smaller men. I married one.

They pack a lot into a tight space. They are reachable. You can fold them, well never mind.

Davy was small.

I had a crush on him. It continues today. A post mortem crush.

He had the goods. And he had talent.

Here is the surprise. I thought he was a lot younger because that is the Davy in my mind. I never saw him as he grew up and out of cuteness and into God knows what. I did see a YouTube of him in which he is playing the guitar in one of those old star autograph shows. The clip below just turned up.

But this is not Davy Jones. This is an old, pleasant guy strumming and singing. I have had a crush on a personality stuck in amber for all these years. God, at least 40 years.

Unrequited love is a sad spectacle. So unrealistic in the first place, pathetic in the final awakening to reality.

Here he is in his last performance. A reunion tour.

You can see the young man under what is now mugging for the camera. This is why I never went back to training and quit before I became a mockery of myself.

Labels: aging, fun. music, life