...I just fulfilled the pinnacle of my 12-year-old self's fantasies and saw Davy Jones live in concert. I knew every word to every song, even the obscure ones. Every. Word. *happy sigh* Yes, I'm a dork, but I was hanging over the railing screaming like an idiot when he sang "Mary, Mary," and I got a li'l misty when the intro to "Daydream Believer
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I have a Davy Jones story too. I was a big Monkees fangirl when I was little and my dad worked part-time in a bar owned by a good friend of his. It was most definitely not a classy little place, trust me! Anyway, Davy Jones and Mickey Dolenz came to play there and we were mad to go. So they set us up at one counter with our own bartender and a bouncer, all for my mom, my sister and I and a cousin. The bartender made us frothy drinks and maraschino cherries all night and when we saw him take drinks over to Mickey and Davy we were so excited because THEY WERE DRINKING ORANGE JUICE TOO! (Um, probably with big slugs of vodka in it but with the charming innocence of youth we felt we totally had something in common with our favorite singers.) My dad got us autographs and I had mine for a brazillon years. Looking back, I'm stunned that I went. My dad didn't even like to take us to restaurants where you had to walk through the bar to get to a table, probably because he'd worked in dives ( ... )
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Somehow I totally missed this comment, but THAT is a fantastic memory!!! I'm deeply jeee-louse, but I probably would have hyperventilated and passed out at the height of my obsession. It really was a fun evening, and I'd go again any time.
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