Fact: Nine year old me went through a Davy Jones stalker-ish phase in the early 90′s.
It all began one summer night…. my mom took me to see Mr. Jones at Starlight Theater in a production of Oliver. I was rather enamored by his luscious 80′s locks and handsome smile, and promptly convinced my mom to hang out near the stage with me after the production to try and say ‘hi.’ If memory serves, our stalking paid off and we got to (briefly) meet him….my crush only intensified.
Several days later, we drove out to Rainy Day Books in some distant suburb of Kansas City to stand in a long, long line and get his autograph on my brand, spanking new copy of his (first) autobiography, ‘They Made a Monkee Out of Me”.… and it will shock you to remember that he didn’t even remember me from the encounter at Starlight. Blaspheme! This highly offended 9-year old me….crush stomped!
That said, I forgave him this transgression as I grew older and put the whole incident in a more mature perspective… but felt an extra special pang in my heart today when I learned that he had died.
Godspeed, old flame. God. Speed.




















