I'm not normally one for mentioning the deaths of well-known people here on my blog, but I hope that today you will allow me the indulgence of a post about Davy Jones.
It all began with a record player a bit like this...
(In truth, all I can really remember about it is the colour red, its portability, the little circle for putting in the middle of records that didn't have one and the fact that it was the one us children could use. Actually, now I think about it, it may have been blue! But in my dreams it was red, my favourite colour.)
The first record we had to play on it was this...
'I'm a Believer' by The Monkees,
with 'I'm not your Steppin' Stone' on the B-side.
I think it must have been given to us by Joan or Linda, the teenagers who lived down the road and used to come and babysit.
This was taken at my sister's birthday party in 1967. Linda is there on the left (with my brother peeping out from behind her, in his high-chair), with me in the dress just nearby. My Mum looks to be cutting the cake or attending to other hospitality type matters (nothing changes!) and Joan is to the right of her with the stylish hair. My sister is rubbing her eyes and has the other teenager that we adored, Christine, next to her. I think my dad must have been standing on the swing to get this shot!
I don't think we watched 'The Monkees' at this point in our lives (I was only three going on four), but once we did, it was a certain Mancunian of diminutive proportions, with a great smile and lovely eyes that caught my eye...
I think Davy Jones was my first 'crush', though the blond-haired Douglas in my first class at Infant school might have just preceded him! I remember 'The Monkees' being on on Saturday evenings, and therefore normally watched after a tea of boiled eggs, soldiers and yogurt (a Saturday treat!) I'm not sure that I really followed the stories, but I did like the songs, and, of course, Davy Jones and his shaky-shaky tambourine-playing style.
The Monkees and Davy Jones may have slipped off my radar (even if for some time he lived in a village not far from my parents and we used to drive past a particular house and tell people 'That's where Davy Jones lives'), but certain things from those days remained with me.
Namely, a strange liking for:
* the most diminutive member of boy bands...
(Well, in the days when I was young enough for it not to seem embarrassing!)
*The Manchester accent
*Nice smiles and eyes
No surprise then that I married a Mancunian who is not overwhelmingly tall, with lovely eyes and a happy disposition!
It goes without saying that I was sad to hear the news of Davy Jones's sudden death. Thanks for some great memories, and for helping me choose the right man!
PS. I think Davy Jones and Mr U-t-B went to the same school of dancing...