I am standing up.

Davy Jones died.  It still doesn't seem real.  I got a text message news alert about it at work and honestly I'd have been less shocked if he had strolled through the front door.  At first I couldn't see which of the Monkees had died until I got the message open all the way.  My first thought was Peter, partly because he's my favorite and partly because I just always figured he'd go first.  Then I saw it was Davy.  Cute little baby faced Davy.  He had a massive heart attack and just died.  I could not believe it.

My Facebook feed became a stream of my old pals from #monkeeschat posting pictures and video and articles.  I didn't have much time to think about it or dwell on it because work is so busy.  On the way home I had a lot on my mind, that included, but it still didn't hit me.  It wasn't until the next morning on the way to work that I broke down.  I listened to Headquarters and was belting it out, tears running down my face, my mouth forming something between a wail and big smile.  I figured I must have looked a sight to anyone passing me. 

 It was silly, crying so much over someone I didn't know and honestly had really thought of as a joke more than anything in the past 15 years.  The last two shows I went to were downright painful.  But the thought that I never could see them all (3) again really hit me.  They cancelled the last part of their last tour.  I'm not sure the exact reason but I think it had something to do with their promoter.  In any event, how sad for the folks that wanted to go but were cheated out of one last show.  Ever since I'd seen them last in '97 I'd decided that was it.  I wasn't going through that again.  But now I kind of wish I could.  They're really getting old, but they were a huge part of my childhood.  I loved them in my early teens and mid-twenties. 

I met him briefly, long enough for him to sign a book and get a picture snapped.  The picture didn't turn out at all because it was the first one on the roll.  I wasn't too broken up about that, though.  It was part of an awesome weekend in Chicago with my #monkeeschat friends in '97.  That truly was good times.   There are so many Monkees memories in my past I can't begin to recall them all.  All I can say is a part of my childhood died Wednesday.