Sad Over Davy

I think I remember someone saying something about being "old" when your teen icons start to die off.  Okay, I'm not quite there yet, but my first crush, Davy Jones died yesterday.  Granted I was only a preschooler when I fell for the quirky guy with a British accent, but it doesn't erase the devastation.

That Davy died wasn't enough, but talking to coworkers a generational rift came to the surface.  "WHO?"

Well shit.

Once I said "The Monkees" realization dawned upon them and they shared my sadness.  Further discussion ensued and it was clear that to a younger crowd "Davy Jones" inspires immediate thoughts of SpongeBob.  That defined the line between us and them, the young and the not-so-young.

A Facebook battle came about as one coworker tried to use this to define ethnic or cultural differences since I wasn't nearly as distraught over Whitney passing.  Maybe there could be some truth to that, but let's compare apples to apples, okay?

Whitney has only been in my life since I was a young adult.  While I loved her voice, I never wanted to kiss her or tried to see how my name would look if we got married and I took her last name.   I didn't have a crush on her.  I just liked her music.  A lot.  Davy has been with me since I was a wee tot.  I'm sure I kissed the TV set when he was on and he IS the reason I love men with Brittish accents.  I have an emotional attachment to the man, and I am truly sad he's gone.

I'm in mourning.

So if you'll excuse me, I'll be busy listening to Daydream Believer, Last Train to Clarksville, and one of my all-time favorite songs, the theme to the Monkees.  And I will listen to them over and over bawling my eyes out because Davy is gone, never able to give me that one kiss and a toothy smile in person.  Anyone who mentions SpongeBob in my year of mourning will find a square sponge promptly shoved up their ass, damn youngsters.

Farewell Davy, I loved you.

Adam-12

It finally happened.  Yesterday, I made a reference to something that the under-35 crowd didn't understand.

The night before I heard the "N" word said on Adam-12.  Someone at the lunch table had a perplexed look, interrupted the conversation and asked, "what's Adam-12?"

And then three more people chimed in, "yeah, what is that?"

Oh holy shit.  These people are too young to have heard of it, let alone watched it. 

Of course, they could accidentally see Adam-12 on cable, unlike me who willingly watches it.  But who would want to watch an early 1970's cop show other than old people with a sense of nostalgia?

I bet those wippersnappers haven't watched Emergency either. 

And Then One Got Married

Yesterday was hard enough with my friend's daughter turning twenty-five.  Then wedding pictures of another young lady, one I've known since she was a pre-teen, popped up on facebook.

UGH!

Y'all need to quit growing up!!!!!!!!!

She was absolutely beautiful, radient.  The kiss at the end, sheer delight.  My eyes teared up looking at the picture of the father-daughter dance.  He had his eyes squeezed tight, clinging onto his baby girl.  It was just precious.

But the wedding party?  They looked like a bunch of teenagers taking off for prom.  Babies.  And then I wondered, did my wedding party look that young?  We had to, we were approximately the same age.


I'm happy for the bride and wish her and her husband a happy long marriage, but holy cow you people are making me feel old.