To say that my mother was averse to change would be a bit of an understatement. Reportedly, when my parents first moved to Long Beach from the San Gabriel Valley in the late 1970's, my mom found the task of finding a Long Beach-based hairdresser so daunting that she drove the 30 minutes back to Alhambra every time she needed a haircut. It allegedly took her almost a year before she felt comfortable enough to try out a local stylist. Flash forward to 1990. While my 5th grade classmates were listening to Dee Lite, Biz Markie, and Vanilla Ice, my sister and I were dancing to The Beach Boys, Elvis Presley, and the occasional Simon and Garfunkel (my dad's influence). Modern pop music had no place in my house. Thus, it should come as no surprise that my first crush was not New Kid on the Block, Jordan Knight, but Monkee frontman, Davy Jones.
I was pretty convinced that "Daydream Believer" was about me. Even though it was recorded 13 years before I was born and even though I would end up at a high school that didn't have homecoming queens. I was sure that The Monkees really meant "international ambassador," but didn't know how to make that rhyme with "sleepy Jeanne." That's okay. Sadly, my first crush, Davy Jones, passed away earlier today in Martin County, Florida. He was 66 years old.
Rest in peace, Davy. You will be missed.
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