Back in the day when kids barely had any after-school activities, we danced our afternoons away….literally.
We’d come home from school, go straight to the kitchen for snack, then head to the living room and turn on the stereo. Our favorite dance music came from ABBA, the Fame soundtrack, the Grease soundtrack, and of course, the Monkees.
So when I opened my Yahoo homepage today to learn that Monkees’ singer Davy Jones has passed away, I naturally wanted to go home to my old living room (which no longer exists) and have a dance contest with my sisters and best friend. Remember “Last Train to Clarksville”? We acted that one out.
Back in the day, we were Daydream Believers. We pretended we were Solid Gold dancers, doing our late 70s and early 80s dance moves, hoping the boys in our neighborhood didn’t happen to look toward our window as they passed by on their way home. They would have seen us jumping around, spinning, singing at the top of our lungs… looking a little bit like, well, monkeys.
We each had our favorite. I remember my sister liked Mickey because he had a big head, and I liked the one with the hat because he was a goofball. Everyone else we knew loved Davy.
If my sisters and best friend were here, I know what we’d do this afternoon after school…