Davy We Hardly Knew Ye: Why The Monkees Matter By Janice Harper
One time when I was a little girl, I decided to run away. I stormed out of the house and began marching across the football field behind our home, hell-bent on never seeing my parents again, probably for no better reason than they’d told me to clean up my room. I had no idea where I’d go or how I’d survive, but I knew one thing for sure: I was never going back home, no matter what. And I marched on.
But as I reached the end of the field, I looked down at my watch to see how long it had taken me to make the long trek, only to discover to my horror that it was almost time for The Monkees. I had completely forgotten it was Monkees night, and I had about ten minutes to turn around and run all the way back if I wasn’t going to miss the opening theme song. I still remember standing there, torn between my desire for liberation and my desire for half an hour with Davy Jones. Runaway or not, I wasn’t about to run away from Davy, nor miss an episode of The Monkees.