So, Davy Jones is gone. Some of you grew up watching him on TV, as new shows, as reruns, as VCR tapes, it all depends in which decade you grew up (60's, 70's, 80's or 90's).
I only got to know who Davy Jones was in the past 4 years, since I have been married. But last year I did see him, Micky and Peter in a Reunion Concert, and I am glad I did. And now I am grieving with all of you who grew up watching him on TV.
And as usual I turn to writing as a way of coping with it.
In these past 24 hours, since I heard the news, I have been thinking about the idea of death. Davy died at age 66. Some people on facebook considered that age too young. Well, when you are 66 you're not necessarily considered young. As a matter of fact, you are considered a senior citizen, but I am sure when I (if I) get to 66 I will still feel as young as 21. Just as a feel right now. And anyway, Paul McCartney is 69 and, had we both been single and he asked me to marry him, I'd say yes without a doubt. I'd not wait a split second. Just in case he might change his mind. And Paul said he will never believe he is already knocking at the 70's door.
So, seriously, what does age have to do with it? Old age doesn't kill anyone. What kills people are heart attacks, cancers(How many children are dying of cancer!), swine flus... Things that can happen at any age, really. To die, all one needs is to be alive. If we are alive, chances are we are going to die. Sooner or later. And we beat the odds everyday. We've been beating the odds ever since we were born. The older we get, the longer we have been beating the odds. But, see, that means that the older we get the more chances we take at dying. Eventually death will find all of us. One way or another. But age has nothing to do with it.
That is why I am, I will always be, 21!