From one daydream believer to another

I had this exact Tiger Beat as a child!

Dreams are a large part of the world of adolescent girls. And many of these young girls' dreams involve boys--often boys who aren't attainable. Yeah, we'll "go with" ("go out with," "go steady with," "talk to") the little fella in our second period class, but we'll dream of the latest teen idol movie star or singer/musician.

This fact hasn't changed much since the advent of modern communication. (I mean, who did the 18th-century girls dream of? Young princes? Minuet composers? There was no TV to rocket Bonnie Prince Charlie to stardom, no radio to make young Beethoven famous, no teen magazines with pull-out posters of Lord Byron in the middle.)

But mass media changed young girls' dreams. In the '40s, they swooned over young crooners like Bing Crosby and movie heroes like Gary Cooper. The '50s brought James Dean, Pat Boone and many more. Girls of the '60s got a little more radical in their dreaming, with fantasies of the Beatles and other long-haired rock 'n roll stars, Ricky Nelson, and Elvis--left over from the '50s and still hot.

A new group that emerged in the '60s was a long-haired crew called The Monkees. They peaked from 1966-68 but never totally vanished from the music scene, with many young people today still familiar with their music.

Hey, hey, we're the Monkees!

I was too young to appreciate The Monkees in their heyday, but I remember their TV show in syndication. I even have this strangely vivid memory of my cousin Mickey Smith and I chasing each other around the coffee table in his living room to the sounds of "Last Train to Clarksville."

He'll forever look like this in our memories.

I was crazy about one of The Monkees' lead singers, Micky Dolenz. But I also couldn't resist their ever-youthful cutie pie of a lead singer, Davy Jones. He was small--making him seem closer to my age although he was WAY older than I was (could've been my daddy)--plus his dark good looks were boyishly charming. And let's face it--a British accent will make the most stoic of us gals swoon.

I watched the Brady Bunch and agonized with Marsha as she tried to get Davy Jones for her school prom. And oh, the thrill when Davy walked into her home to announce he would indeed sing at her prom! I'll even admit I was envious when Marsha kissed him on the cheek and he said, "Flip side" and she got to kiss him on the other cheek.

(Click on the link below to see Marsha Brady meet Davy Jones on the "Brady Bunch"!)

Davy's charm persisted through the years. He had a cameo appearance in The Brady Bunch Movie released in 1995. The man was nearly 50 years old by then and still looked like a teeny-bopper. It is a thrill to see him come out on stage at Marsha's high school dance and sing "Girl," the same song he sang in the 1971 episode of the show. (What's hilarious is all of the middle-aged female teachers and chaperones who are stunned to see Davy and run screaming to the front of the stage to sway to his music and act all twitterpated, like teenage girls.)

Well, Davy Jones died today. Although I don't exactly think of The Monkees very often these days, I was still stunned to hear the news. How can this be? The perpetually young teen idol dead? My brain still can't wrap itself around the fact that one of The Monkees is gone. Aren't they still those long-haired (okay, medium-haired) guys bouncing around on stage (well, everyone except for ole laid back Mike), singing "I'm a Believer" and other Monkees standards?

Older but still cute!

I cannot comprehend that Davy Jones was almost as old as my dad when he passed away this morning. Why, my dad is nearly elderly now; he's gray, wears glasses, gets stiff these days. The Davy Jones in my mind is still black-headed and dancing around on stage (the boy had some smooth moves).

So much for another Monkees reunion tour such as the one they tried to do this past year until they allegedly canceled the remainder of the dates due to internal strife and other mysterious conflicts.

But I don't choose to think on the negative. I will remember the made-perfect-for-television group that was cute, funny and ever-young.

Because if Davy Jones was (gulp) 66, then where does that leave my other teen idols David Cassidy, the Bay City Rollers, Rick Springfield and Bobby Sherman? And what does that make me?

I am truly a daydream believer!

Am I not still that teenage girl poring avidly over her Tiger Beat magazine, carefully tearing out the centerfold poster of Leif Erickson? Don't tell me Prince Andrew is aging and balding; in my mind I'm still a young teenager sitting in the coolness of my basement on a hot summer day, daydreaming of capturing his attention somehow and becoming Princess Leslie of Great Britain.

I may not have been a homecoming queen, but I was a daydream believer then, and I am a daydream believer now. "I could hide 'neath the wings, of the bluebird as she sings, The six o'clock alarm would never ring. . ."

But the cold reality of six o'clock in the morning comes daily, and none of us can hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird or any other bird. Tiger Beat centerfolds get wrinkled and gray. Time bows to no man (or young girl with her dreams), and our teen idols, along with us, will eventually get old and pass from this life.

But as long as we have CDs and the Internet, the music will, in a sense, immortalize the singers. Davy Jones may be gone, but his youthful voice lingers over the airwaves.

And we will remember the innocence and naivete of our youthful days when we sang along with those memorable words, "Here we come, walking down the street, We get the funniest looks from, everyone we meet. . .Hey, hey, we're the Monkees! And people say we monkey around, But we're too busy singing, To put anybody down!"

(Click on this link to hear Davy Jones and The Monkees sing "Daydream Believer." You'll see Davy's smooth dance moves!)