Day 60 of 365

So today I received a very sad phone call from a life long friend. She was checking on me to see how I was feeling and then ended her message by informing me that my favorite Monkee, Davy Jones, had passed away at 66 years young of a heart attack. Immediately I tore myself from my bed and ran to the computer to see if it was true. Alas, the headlines all spoke the truth. I immediately begin texting friends of the passing of the Manchester Cowboy, the cute short Monkee, our Daydream Believer.

When I text my friend in Cali she replied back with how weird it was that we were just talking about him last week, and as I look back that wasn't the only time I spoke of him last week. I was so looking forward to seeing him at the Flower Power Concert series in May, but that time will not come.

I spent the afternoon watching videos about the Monkees and reading about him online. The photo I have added above is from his Flower Power Concert Series performance at Epcot on 2008, my 1st Flower and Garden festival after moving to Florida. I still find the irony that in his concerts he would state that, "I used to be a heartthrob, now I am a coronary."

Davy, you will always be a heartthrob to me. Thank you for teaching me that being short just makes you that much cuter, it's ok to laugh at yourself, that when you fall in love you will get giant stars in your eyes and the tambourine is a complicated instrument and not everyone can play it and sway to the beat.

We will all miss our Daydream Believer...

Chip: 7A
Davy: What number is this Chip?
Chip and Other 3 Monkees: 7A!
Davy: Ok, you know what I mean, like don't get excited man, it's because I'm short I know.

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
But it rings and I rise wipe the sleep out of my eyes
The shavin' razor's cold, and it stings

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?

You once thought of me as a white knight on his steed
Now you know how happy I can be
Oh, and our good times start and end without dollar one to spend
But how much baby do we really need?

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?

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