Strange, nobody ever chose Michael Nesmith.
There were always many Mickey Dolenz fans ’cause he was the “funny” one and sang lead on several of the songs, but it was Davy Jones who had the most followers. And this was before Twitter. Not only did Davy have the best voice in the group he actually appeared to be a star. He had “it.” Think about the other three; you could sit next to them on a subway and not know who they were, but everybody recognized Davy and the powerful charisma that filled his tiny frame. They used to call it star power.
When I learned that Davy was dead, I came close to tears. I spent the evening wondering why I was so sad. Then it hit me: the death of Davy Jones was the death of that magical time in my life just before high school when everything made sense and friends were friends, rules were simple and I was still allowed to just be a kid. Now, I know that this perception is nothing new. Three words, “The Wonder Years.” But it was new to me, like those old TV episodes.
I spent most of last night sipping on a decent bottle of wine and contemplating life, the universe and everything while the new Van Halen blared through my stereo and I found the resurrection of David Lee Roth to be uplifting. He’s the singer for Van Halen if you’re not a fan. Diamond Dave, they used to call him, and he was as much a part of my high school years as Davy Jones was of the preceding times. 1984 was the year that I faced the prospect of adulthood and the entry into the so-called “real” world and “1984″ was the Van Halen album that became the soundtrack for my senior year. It was also the last album that featured Diamond Dave on vocals.
Now he’s back with the group and it seems fitting to mourn the passing of Davy Jones by enjoying the rebirth of Davy Roth. Both Davys are a powerful symbol of my youth and if I have to let go of the innocence produced by Mr. Jones, at least I can find solace in the new, mature nature of Mr. Roth.
How did the death of Davy Jones affect you?