I once thought of you as a white night on a steed

A piece of my childhood died this week. How sad I was to learn through Facebook that Davy Jones of Monkees fame had passed away at the age of 66 from a massive heart attack. If all of us ladies of my age were really honest with ourselves we will admit that we had a crush of some proportion on Davy, the groovy guy with the British accent who was one of The Monkees. He was the "cute" one. I can remember sitting in my grandmother and grandfather's family room every Saturday afternoon to hear the familiar strains of ♫♪ Here we come, walkin' down the street....Hey, hey we're the Monkees! ♫♪ It was a silly, madcap show that ended each week with a song. It was simple and frivolous, and you didn't have to think to watch it. It was about the fun. Of course I knew all the words to I'm a Believer, Last Train to Clarksville, and Daydream Believer, the one Davy made famous. In this day and age of instant information, so 12 seconds ago, it is hard to imagine not knowing everything about a celebrity. As things began to surface this week after Davy died, I was surprised to learn that he had played the role of the Artful Dodger in the original production of Oliver on Broadway, and he was nominated for a Tony for it. I will always remember him as the littlest Monkee, Marcia Brady's crush, and the daydream believer. Rest in peace, Davy Jones.