Davy Jones passed away last Wednesday of a heart attack.  He was 66.  He was also a huge, wonderful part of my life while growing up.  Yes, I watched The Monkees every week, and yes, I saw the first run episode of The Brady Bunch when he made Marcia a hysterical mess by going to the prom with her (although I didn’t realize they had proms in junior high school).  That was a different time than now, obviously, but it sure was a great time.  It was a time when we could believe in something and not have it torn down by the oversaturation we have these days.  We all knew Davy as a short dude from Manchester, England who could sing, dance and act and that was good enough for us.  The girls were seduced by his charm and pin-up good looks.  He was the first of his kind and quite possibly the last of his kind.

I found it interesting to compare the lives and deaths of Davy Jones and the recently departed Whitney Houston.  Both were big performers, both were celebrities, both were talented in many ways, but the similarities stop there.  Once fame was achieved, one chose a path of self-destruction while the other chose the road of enjoying life.  One rested on laurels and one continued doing the things he loved to do without controversy, without drug busts, without domestic violence, without stints in rehab and without winding up in the tabloids.

The other comparison I found interesting and somewhat disturbing was how Whitney Houston’s death was described by many as a major tragedy while the news of Davy Jones’ passing was met with little fanfare and almost a ho-hum attitude.  When it comes to the contributions both of these people made to our society, I found that to be a backward model and a sorrowful reflection of what’s important to us today.  I guess it comes down to how you put a value on one’s life after they’ve gone.  Everyone measures that differently.  I choose to measure it by the positive impact you have made on society or individuals while you’re here. (more…)