Yesterday afternoon, as I refreshed the permanent Evil Beet tab on my internets, I had a heavy heart. I was preparing to read Jenn’s goodbye post and cry (and I did), and then another post caught my eye as well, and that was the post where we learned that Davy Jones, beautiful singer and keyboard player for The Monkees, had passed away. I was doubly devastated.
I wish I had had a chance before now to talk about my incredible love for the Monkees, but, for whatever reason, it never really came up. But you guys, I love the Monkees, and, of course, Davy Jones was my favorite. Back when I was around 10 or so, I was obsessed. I watched all the reruns I could, and when my mom got me the Greatest Hits album for my birthday, I cried so hard and made all my friends (both of them!) listen to it with me. Then, one magical summer, my aunt bought me a ticket to see them LIVE IN CONCERT. The Monkees, all together (except Mike), performing all their old hits, could you imagine? I cried again because it was just such a beautiful night. The Monkees will forever be in my heart, and with this sad, sad news about Davy Jones, I feel like Marcia Brady did when she got hit in the face with a football. Or, you know, like she would feel when she heard that Davy Jones is dead.
To aid in my latest cry fest (I seriously cry all the time, have you picked that up yet?), the three remaining Monkeys, Mike, Mickey, and Peter, have all weighed in about Davy Jones’ sudden passing. Check it out:
“All the lovely people. Where do they all come from?” began a statement from the Monkees’ guitarist, who was as shocked as anybody to learn that the 66-year-old Jones had died today after suffering a heart attack.
“So many lovely and heartfelt messages of condolence and sympathy, I don’t know what to say, except my sincere thank you to all. I share and appreciate your feelings,” Nesmith continued. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
“While it is jarring, and sometimes seems unjust, or strange, this transition we call dying and death is a constant in the mortal experience that we know almost nothing about,” the musician said.
“I am of the mind that it is a transition and I carry with me a certainty of the continuity of existence. While I don’t exactly know what happens in these times, there is an ongoing sense of life that reaches in my mind out far beyond the near horizons of mortality and into the reaches of infinity.
“That David has stepped beyond my view causes me the sadness that it does many of you,” he continued, “I will miss him, but I won’t abandon him to mortality. I will think of him as existing within the animating life that insures existence. I will think of him and his family with that gentle regard in spite of all the contrary appearances on the mortal plane. David’s spirit and soul live well in my heart, among all the lovely people, who remember with me the good times, and the healing times, that were created for so many, including us.
“I have fond memories. I wish him safe travels.”
“I am in a state of shock,” fellow Monkee Mickey Dolenz said in a statement as well. “Davy and I grew up together and shared in the unique success of what became The Monkees phenomena. The time we worked together and had together is something I’ll never forget. He was the brother I never had and this leaves a gigantic hole in my heart. The memories have and will last a lifetime. My condolences go out to his family.”
The fourth member of the Monkee brotherhood, Peter Tork, also spoke out via Facebook: “It is with great sadness that I reflect on the sudden passing of my long-time friend and fellow-adventurer, David Jones. His talent will be much missed; his gifts will be with us always. My deepest sympathy to [his wife] Jessica and the rest of his family.
“Adios, to the Manchester Cowboy. Peace and love, Peter T.”
It’s good to know that they’re all still such lovely people, isn’t it? Except Mike. Mike was always a douchebag.