Monday, September 28, 2009
Maybe It Wasn't Davy Jones
Sitting around my parents house on a lazy Sunday afternoon, we were talking about my brother John's graduation the day before. I was looking at his yearbook and mentioned how pictures can fool you. Everyone looks their best in these fuzzy glamour shots. We laughed about how stupid intelligent people could be.
John was telling stories about the people in his class. He told us about pulling a trick on a girl that sat in front of him. Whenever she left her seat he would take her chair and pass it down the row behind him. She would come back and it would be nowhere in sight. It was all friendly enough though-she invited him to her big after graduation BBQ.
He stayed for quite awhile and then when he was getting ready to leave, her father, holding a spatula told him, "when those other parties suck, this is the one you're gonna come back too".
The next day is when John told me about it. Reminiscing over the yearbook, John said, "I guess her dad was one of the Monkee's."
"What?" Which one?" asked my sister Natalie very interested.
"I don't know, I'm not a fan of the Monkee's."
"Was he short?"
"Was it Davy Jones?" I interjected.
"I don't know. I don't know who Davy Jones is."
"Was it Peter Tork?"
"Did he play guitar?"
"No, he had a spatula," responded John.
"Was he wearing a hat, was it Michael Nesmith?" I prodded.
"No, he was not wearing a hat, he had grey hair."
"Did he have blonde hair?"
Breathing in slowly in frustration at our game, John responded, "NO, he had grey hair."
I asked, "Have you ever seen the Monkee's TV show?"
"But this guy was one of the Monkee's?"
"Yeah, that's what I heard."
"Well then, do you think they will have another BBQ today?"
"I don't know why do you care?"
"Cause its one of the Monkee's," answered Natalie.
"One of my other friends dad's is having a BBQ," said John.
"Is he a Monkee?"
"Well do you think the Monkee will come to this other BBQ?" I rib.
John remains silent in irritation.
"Come on, think about it," Natalie prods, "Was it Mickey or Mike, Peter or Davy? What was his name? Was he shorter?"
"Was it Davy Jones?" I question with a tilt and a nodJohn retorts, "I don't know. maybe it wasn't Davy Jones, I just heard he was a Monkee."
Natalie shakes her head, "No way it was Davy Jones."
"If we threw a BBQ, do you think we could get the Monkee to come?" I asked.
"I don't know!"
"Well lets call your friend."
Natalie called but nobody was home. I guess the mystery of the Monkee and the BBQ will have to sit a little longer.