[Image credit: http://www.last.fm/music/%5D
Davy Jones and The Monkees were a big part of my ‘tween years. Yesterday, the heartthrob of many young girls (including me) passed away at the age of 66. Much loved TV shows from the ’70s and ’80s are either distant recollections or in syndication on a remote channel, while contemporary sitcoms easily slide into the new “favorites” category. The year my daughter was born, Minnesota’s Mall of America, boasting its indoor theme park named Camp Snoopy, celebrated its grand opening. After several years, the park transformed into Nickelodeon, with some rides the same and a few new, but with a different premise. My old neighborhood theater still shows films for a dollar, but in place of the kitty-corner drug store, a wine bar and café — definitely an improvement in my opinion — welcomes an eclectic group of patrons. Our pasts and our presents are intertwined so much so, that for me it’s hard to say goodbye to meaningful icons or landmarks … it’s as if I’m closing the door to a piece of my heritage. But thankfully, the memories remain. And new ones are continually filling in the gaps.
What people or places help define your journey?
Always The Write Time Blog 
Mar 01, 2012 @ 13:20:30
to davy, my english hanuman
RIP DAVY JONES
when you were a simple monkey
asked to deliver a single bud,
you brought a field of asian amber flush.
your unbridled devotion
thrust you to monkey god.
now, you divinely intervene
and bring me messages of him.
i find him in a soup kitchen
baking apple bread in a
t-shirt depicting two quarreling
monkeys captioned,
“double talk.”
he loves me and focuses on
monkees rerun marathons
late into the night preserving
our chaste, intimate love.
tonight’s virgin viewing is
in your honor
and cinematic eulogy,
davy.
humming your swanee river,
i shiver with relief that
my heart no longer attacks.
thank you,
for the anthem bouquets
of my youth.
Mar 01, 2012 @ 15:25:45
I’ve moved so much in my life that changes in the community haven’t really had an effect on me. But what does define my journey is music. Hearing a song from 1997 takes me back to when I was pregnant with my first son; hearing a 70s rock tune takes me back to my bedroom as a middle schooler putting puzzles together. And so on and so on.
Nice post!