I WANT MY HAND SANITIZER!!!!!!!!!

   
     Shortly after the onset of the Trump Administration, I found myself on a Facebook thread reading a question posed by an apparent Trump supporter in response to some liberal overemoting on a topic lost to memory that asked, in essence, "How has Trump becoming president affected YOU negatively?," and then went on to say that, macro issues aside, is it really so bad having Trump as president if YOUR life hasn't changed for the worse?  Seeing the concept of evaluating an issue or action solely on its personal impacts, I thought, was the perfect description of the 21st century Republican.  You now, Dick Cheney caring about Gay Rights because one of his daughters came out or rich Republicans who care not a whit about the environment except in their own backyard, etc.

     My mind involuntarily harkened back to these thoughts when I first read the story of Matt Colvin, a Tennessee man who, the day after the news broke of the first American death from COVID-19, decided with his brother to capitalize on the forthcoming tragic pandemic and anticipated panic by buying approximately 18,000 bottles of hand sanitizer in the surrounding Kentucky and Tennessee areas with intentions of selling their wares on Amazon for highly inflated prices.  The price gougers were stopped by Jeff Bezos' evil monolith after 300 bottles were already sold at an obscene profit.  The subsequent national outcry over this and stories of others in Pennsylvania and Canada doing the same wicked (to be blunt) thing shamed Mr. Colvin into donating the remaining approximately 17,700 bottles for the public good.

     All's well that ends well, one might incorrectly say, but where was the similar national public outcry when news stories broke out publicizing the skyrocketing, price gouging costs of insulin brands such as Levemir, Novolog, Lantus, and Humalog?  I mean, after all, while one can debate the effectiveness of hand sanitizer alone as a weapon against COVID-19, there is a direct causal relationship between insulin and life for diabetics.  And then I recalled, aha!, the hand sanitizer story sparked outrage because the entire nation as a whole were fruitlessly searching for bottles of it.  They could relate to this shortage- it affected THEM.  Whereas, the need for insulin does not affect everyone, even indirectly.

     What was equally troubling was the number of social media posts that emphasized that COVID-19 was, in general, nothing to fear because most of us are relatively healthy enough to ultimately combat it.  More than one post emphasized the elderly and/or those with heart disease, diabetes, chronic lung disease, or issues with the immune system as the people who really needed to worry about COVID-19.  Very rarely did these posts not stop there to DEMAND (my emphasis) that all of us need to take precautions to not contract COVID-19, not just for self-preservation, but to ensure that we do not pass it on to those more vulnerable.  Most just left it at the observation that YOU are most likely not vulnerable, a sort of perverse combination of forces of Darwinism and Bentham utilitarianism at play.  The pre-crisis John Stuart Mill would be proud (I can't knock Mill for Wordsworth's poetry being the catalyst for Mill overcoming his crisis- the Beach Boys' Endless Summer had the same impact on me during a personal crisis many moons ago).

     Oh, back to the thesis statement-less, first paragraph:  were the toilet paper hoarding, hand sanitizing price gouging, and strictly self-preservation COVID-19 perspectives examples of a solely a Republican mindset?  No, snatches from all ends of the political spectrum are exhibiting this behavior.  With a broad brush is this, then, an American mindset?  This writer doesn't know and cannot quite make out what the ghost of John F. Kennedy is trying to say, but it sounds like, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for you."

Why Boston is the Most Successful Sports City

While whittling away my existence on Twitter back in December, I came across a tweet from Keith Olbermann stating


“Yankees 27

+ NFL Giants 8

+ Rangers 4

+ Mets 2

+ Knicks 2

+ Jets 1

= 44 


Shall we add in the ex-NY teams?  Dodgers (1), MLB Giants (8)?  Make it 53?” and then added, in blunt fashion, “You guys are morons.”


This, as my scanning eyes would soon confirm, was in response to a picture tweeted by Joe Giza of a Dunkin’ Donuts sign in Boston stating, “Boston Runs on Dunkin’, Hard Work, The Sweat From 37 Championships #Titletown!  And the Tears of New Yorkers.”

Now, setting aside the fact that the New York (MLB) Giants won five and not eight World Series titles before moving to San Francisco following the 1957 season (the other three were won in 2010, 2012, and 2014) and that Olbermann did not mention the Boston (Miracle) Braves’ World Series title in 1914, 44 championships certainly beats 37, no? (To say nothing of 50 (not 53) beating 38.)

I obviously assumed New York would be the more successful sports town but, as is my wont, decided to try to come up with an interesting counterpoint.  After rudimentary research, I tweeted back that Boston was ahead 27-19 in championships won after Olbermann was born (January 27, 1959).  Looking further, I noticed that it was only going back to 1940 (before Citizen Kane was released, before Teddy Ballgame batted .406, before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor) when New York pulls decisively ahead of Boston in the championship count, 31-30, (or 1947, if you include the Brooklyn Dodgers 1955 and NY Giants 1954 World Series titles) to get to the ultimate 44-37 totals (or 50-38 totals, if you include the relocated franchises.)


And, yet, despite the 44-37 (or 50-38) difference, Boston is still the more successful sports town when one considers how many championships have been won as a percentage of opportunities each city had.  As of December 31, 2018, the New York Yankees have played in all 115 seasons that a World Series has been played (excluding the 1994 strike year- I’ll get to the non-1904 World Series later), the Mets in 56 seasons (as of 1962), the NFL Giants in 94 seasons since 1925, the New York Jets in 53 seasons from Super Bowl I on, the New York Knicks in 72 seasons of NBA Championships from 1947 on, the Brooklyn Nets in six seasons from 2012, and the New York Rangers in 92 seasons from the 1926-27 season, which means that New York teams in the four major sports won only 44 championships out of 488 opportunities, or 9.016%.  Contrast this with Boston, who won 37 championships (Boston Red Sox: 9 World Series titles, New England Patriots: 5 Super Bowls, Boston Celtics: 17 NBA Championships, Boston Bruins: 6 Stanley Cups) in only 334 opportunities (the Boston Red Sox played in the same 115 seasons as the Yankees, the New England Patriots in the same 53 seasons as the Jets, the Boston Celtics in the same 72 seasons as the Knicks, and the Boston Bruins in 94 seasons from the 1924-25 season), or 11.078%.


Adding the five World Series titles won by the New York Giants and the one Series won by Brooklyn does not help because you’re adding six titles, yes, but you are also adding 55 seasons for each team (50/598= 8.361%).  The gap narrows if you include the Boston Braves (1 title in 50 years before that franchise moved to Milwaukee), which Olbermann overlooked, but Boston still comes out ahead, 38/384= 9.896%.  And none of this even counts 1904, when the BOSTON baseball team should have been declared World Champions after the NEW YORK Giants refused to play them for the title!  


Of the cities with teams in all four major sports leagues, Boston is #1. (Postscript:  since the Olbermann tweet, the New England Patriots won Super Bowl LIII to end the 53^rd season of Super Bowls, thus improving Boston’s superior winning percentage still further, franchise relocations or not.)

Donald Trump is My President

You may not like it.  As an environmentalist, I CERTAINLY do not like it, but it is an irrefutable fact that Donald J. Trump is our duly-elected U.S. President, and attempts by some on the Left (even two years later- I’m talking to you, Michael Moore) to delegitimize this by pointing out that Trump lost the popular vote are ultimately found wanting.

The Electoral College is delineated in Article 2, Section 1 and in the 12^th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution and Donald Trump, by the only legal barometer both major parties were aware of prior to Election Day, earned 304 electoral votes versus the 227 won by Democratic Party nominee Hillary Clinton to win the presidency.  There are arguments for and against the Electoral College which I do not wish to rehash here.  Instead, I’d like to stress that one cannot repudiate a victory reached under the lawful rules both sides were playing under initially by pointing out that a different result could have been achieved using a different barometer.  

To demonstrate this, a Reddit user cited (in the Reddit user’s words) “a great analogy” from Rush Limbaugh’s November 14, 2016 show (a segment I heard live, by the way) that, predictably, is simple enough for his core audience to grasp but not subtle enough to truly drive the point home.  Rush recalled the classic 1960 baseball World Series when the heavily-favored New York Yankees (Mantle, Berra, Ford, Maris, Richardson, Howard, et al) were beaten by the Pittsburgh Pirates in seven games, despite outscoring the National League representatives 55-27 in the seven games.  Rush’s simple point is to say, hey, the ground rule to determine the World Series winner is the first team to win four games in a best-of-seven series and, if we change the rule post-Series to say, na’ah, let’s declare the Bronx Bombers (Hillary) the Series winner because they scored more runs in the Series than the Pirates (Trump).  A simple analogy, yes, but not “great” because strategy (What do I need to do to get to 270 electoral votes?) is ignored.

A better, deeper (for me) analogy would be to compare the 2016 Election to one single baseball game.  Current official baseball rules dictate the winner of a game to be the team that scores the most runs.  Usually, but not always, the baseball team (or presidential candidate) who gets the most hits (votes) wins the game (the election).  However, as five U.S. Presidential elections and countless baseball games show, the candidate (team) who gets the most votes (hits) does not always win the election (game).  Just as there is strategy involved in earning the most electoral votes (what are the swing states, and which are in play for us?  How do I allocate my time and resources?  What message do I craft to appeal to those states?) beyond winning the popular vote, there’s strategy to winning a baseball game beyond getting the most hits.  In some situations, laying down a sacrifice bunt or grounding out to the right side of the infield to advance a baserunner into better scoring position makes strategic sense, although you are giving up an out (in other words, a chance to get a hit).  Trying to hit a sacrifice fly to score a baserunner from third, although again giving up an opportunity for a hit, makes strategic sense.  Ordering a stolen base attempt to move a runner into scoring position is another strategy that, depending on circumstances, might make sense even though the subsequent opening of a base may lead to an intentional walk to the next hitter, thus “taking the bat out of their hands,” or the runner may even get thrown out, which means your team has one less opportunity to get a hit.  In these examples, a team is implementing strategies (and I can think of multiple others that would also apply to this analogy) to attempt to win in ways other than focusing on getting hits alone because they realize that hits alone do not ensure victory, just like getting the most popular votes ensures nothing.  It would be absurd for a team that wins 4 runs to 3 to have the result overturned because they were outhit 8-6.

So, anti-Trumpers:  please stop alluding to the popular vote!  Antiquated or not, the Electoral College determines our U.S. President and will continue to do so in perpetuity.  So, learn the lessons of the bitter 2016 defeat (which, if my Twitter feed is any indication, pundits on the Left have not yet fully grasped), draw the necessary conclusions as to why the Rust Belt states who decided the election favored the message of a scion whose businesses filed bankruptcy on multiple occasions over the message (or lack thereof) of the more progressive party, cease with the stupid “Drumpf” stuff, and win an election.

Enigma: the Mystery of Phil Ochs

Like "superstars" in sports, the moniker "enigma" in music circles has been rendered virtually superfluous by its overuse.  Marc Eliot's Death of a Rebel:  A Biography of Phil Ochs delineates the all-too brief life of a GENUINE musical enigma, Phil Ochs, who hanged himself to death at age 36.  Eliot's work transcends mere biographical rehashes of career vicissitudes; it presents a compelling psychological profile of a revered lyricist/folk singer possessing personality contradictions comparable to Shakespeare's Hamlet.  Eliot's character dissection is twofold:  coverage of Phil's musical career is adroitly complimented by discussion of Phil's political activism.  Through warm, personal reminisces of Phil by friends and peers and an exemplary presentation of the ambience of the Sixties, Eliot challenges the reader to diagnose the cause(s) of Phil's psychological breakdown.  All explanations inherently possess a paucity of conviction, highlighting Eliot's characterization of Phil as an unsolvable enigma.

The book first and foremost presents Phil as a superlative lyricist, capable of protest and introspective songs of high quality.  Pete Seeger, author of 'Where Have All the Flowers Gone?' and (w/ Lee Hays) 'If I Had a Hammer," wrote to Phil:  "I wish I had one-tenth your talent as a songwriter."  London's Melody Maker, the most analytical of music periodicals, cited Phil for his synergism of "Beatles' musicality and Dylan's poetry."  His lyrics expressed an intrinsic part of his personality.  Eliot quotes Phil:  "I write about (issues) out of an inner need for expression, not to change the world.  The roots of my songs are psychological, not political."  This explains Phil's lyrical inconsistency; i.e., some songs variously laud or condemn the protest movement, liberals, JFK, etc.  The wit and creativity of Phil's songs is partially explained by Eliot's characterization of the preadolescent Phil as a dreamer too absorbed with movie screen images of Brando (whom he meets- pages 74-4), Wayne, and Dean to discern reality; the innate ability to simplify and satirize issues to their bare essentials stems partly from Phil's college days at Ohio St. (straight A's) and the political indoctrination espoused by the Marxist father of a college friend.

Phil's true musical roots lied not with folk/protest but with rock-n-roll as practiced by Elvis and Buddy Holly, and his ultimate goals were the decidedly unfolkish ideals of riches and superstardom.  Phil quickly realized he couldn't acquire Dylan's status as institution solely through folk.  Eliot quotes Paul Rothchild, producer of Phil's first three albums:  "(Phil's voice) was too cultured.  It wasn't 'of the people' enough.  It wasn't Pete Seeger or Woody Guthrie; it sounded too trained."  So, Phil rejected Dylan's abandoned throne, and followed the latter's conversion to folk-rock.  After signing a lucrative contract with A&M Records and the release of two successful records, Phil destroyed his pop commercial viability through his (to me) heroic role in the fiasco of Chicago, 1968, and alienated his legions of folk fans by dressing in a gold lame suit in Carnegie Hall in 1970 by singing Elvis and Buddy Holly tunes.  Phil had great talent and, yet, couldn't find a suitable musical genre to express himself- an unpalatable proposition for a genius.

Politics were truly a double-edged sword for Phil, providing fodder for some of his best songs and planting the seeds for the irreversible writer's block, paranoia, manic depression, and split personas that plagued Phil's final years.  Eliot gives the reader the flavor of the Sixties' student movement through the eyes of one of its leading practitioners.  Eliot shows how the ideals and dreams Phil possessed were shattered many times and the personal trauma this created- in Mississippi, in Chicago '68, and in Chile in 1973 with the overthrow and murder of that country's elected socialist president Salvador Allende.  Phil's frustration and resignation with the failure of the Left had a masochistic effect, leading to self-effacing and self-destructive behavior.  Eliot also highlights fascinating political idiosyncrasies of Phil's; he implicitly understood music and students couldn't change the attitude of the middle class and yet publicly espoused its value.  He later proclaimed the need for an Elvis Presley-type to become a Che Guevara of the Left, leading to the lame suit concert whose negative response confused and hurt Phil deeply.  Political and social issues made Phil musically and broke him spiritually.

The most attractive feature of the book is its objective feel.  The author's love of Phil's music, wit, activism, and sincerity is balanced by discussion of the repugnant last years of Phil's life.  Phil's excessive drinking, spurts of anger and violence at loved ones, and his creation of an evil alter ego, John Train ("I live outside of the law!") are discussed in an intimate manner that allows the reader to spiral and careen with Phil/John to the bitter end.  Eliot passes no opinions or judgments; instead, he allows the readers to draw their own conclusions.

Eliot spent 18 months tracking down colleagues of Phil and retracting Phil's steps.  The result is a thorough, in-depth profile unprecedented in pop literature.  Phil will always remain an enigma, but Eliot gives us warm, personal clues to solve an unsolvable genius.  Phil will forever be remembered for his music, his candidness, and his mystique.

 

 

 

 

 

The Perils of Going Viral

These days, much of social media frustrates and vexes me. Uncouth language, a lack of compassion, an annoying overuse of internet clichés ("epic fail," etc.), and an inability to read past the headline all tempt me to raise my voice- a voice crying in the wilderness, but a voice nonetheless. However, it took a letter written by a self-congratulatory parent to a school administrator that (wait for it) "went viral" which spurred me to write my first blog in over two years.

  

A Pennsylvania parent named Mike Rossi, apparently vexed at a brief, didactic letter mailed to him by an elementary school principal informing him that the three days missed by his children during the school year for a family trip to Boston to watch him run in the 2015 Boston Marathon would not be excused, decided to post onto Facebook the letter and his written response.

  

Mr. Rossi's response began with, in essence, a belittling of the value of going to school by claiming his children "learned as much in the five days (in Boston) as they would in an entire year of school." Hmmm.  Interesting. Is he saying that we can phase out the 180-day school year in favor of a five-day sojourn to Boston (a pleasant notion for most kids)?  Is this the secret of those countries currently ranked ahead of the United States in education?

  

More trip rationalization followed: "Our children had a once-in-a-lifetime experience (that) can't be duplicated in a classroom or read in a book." Echoing this notion, mirabile dictu, schools agree that some educational experiences cannot be duplicated in a classroom setting, which is why field (class) trips, where school officials agree to let a class or an entire grade enjoy a common learning experience outside of school grounds, were invented.

  

Mr. Rossi continued: "In the 3 days of school they missed (which consisted of standardized testing that they could take any time) they learned about dedication, commitment, love, perseverance, overcoming adversity, civic pride, patriotism, American history, culinary arts (culinary arts?), and physical education." Generally speaking, for obvious reasons, "standardized testing" should be administered to each student at the same time, which is why the same S.A.T. questions are not given on different test days.  However, as the exact nature of the standardized testing was not made clear, let's move along...

  

The next paragraph explained the true motivation for this entire enterprise: "(My kids) watched their father overcome injury, bad weather, the death of a loved one and many other obstacles to achieve an important personal goal." Actually, Mr. Rossi is not alone in the running community in attaching great importance to the value of their somewhat (I have to admit, being a runner myself- albeit one who will not qualify for the Boston Marathon anytime soon) self-indulgent running endeavors. More than one runner believes that each run they complete is a lasting inspiration to the lives of others.

  

One cannot quibble with the next three paragraphs: "They also experienced first-hand the love and support of thousands of others cheering on people with a common goal.

  

At the marathon, they watched blind runners, runners with prosthetic limbs and debilitating diseases and people running to raise money for great causes run in the most prestigious and historic marathon in the world.

  

They also paid tribute to the victims of a senseless act of terrorism and learned that no matter what evil may occur, terrorists can not deter the American spirit."

  

Redundancy followed ("These are things they won't ever truly learn in the classroom"), in case one did not understand beforehand that certain things cannot be learned in a classroom, or read in a book.

  

Details on the part of the vacation that most closely resembled a school class trip came next: "Our children walked the Freedom Trail, visited the site of the Boston Tea Party, the Boston Massacre and the graves of several signers of the Declaration of Independence... They also visited an aquarium (presumably the New England Aquarium), sampled great cuisine (presumably not the marine life at the New England Aquarium. Stop. Wait. Is this what he meant by "culinary arts"?) and spent many hours of physical activity walking and swimming." Now, I certainly see great educational merit in walking the Freedom Trail, which I did back in 1998, and I loved the New England Aquarium, by far the best aquarium I ever saw, and I encourage all families to travel to Historic Boston during spring or summer vacation.

  

However, making this trek during the school year is another matter. I wonder if the conservatives (the faction that responded most favorably to this letter, and who probably to a person consider themselves those who "play by the rules.") who relished both the subtle devaluation of education and the patriotic images of the letter would have responded as favorably if a parent had instead posted a letter explaining why they decided to pull their child out of school for three days to drive to Washington D.C. for a mass protest against, say, police brutality or a war and to drive around poorer neighborhoods, an experience that some would find just as patriotic and educational as the Boston trip of the Family Rossi.

After a brief blurb contradicting the first two paragraphs of the letter ("We appreciate the efforts of the wonderful teachers and staff and cherish the education they are receiving at Rydal Elementary School. We truly love our school"), Mr. Rossi reaffirmed the validity of the trip ("But I wouldn't hesitate to pull them out of school again for an experience like the one they had this past week."), a voyage that would have never been made if he hadn't "qualified" for the Boston Marathon (see epilogue), auxiliary benefits of the excursion aside.

  

He ended the letter with "Michael Rossi, Father," presumably because the elementary school principal dared to end her letter with "Rochelle Marbury, Principal," as if the principal should not have identified her position to distinguish herself from, say, the assistant principal or the janitor.

  

(Epilogue: there is now some doubt as to whether Mr. Rossi had even legitimately qualified for the Boston Marathon.  Please visit the website Letsrun dot com for some interesting circumstantial evidence. The lesson is this: if you take great pains to glorify yourself through Social Media, "haters" will take great pains of sometimes greater proportion to nullify these efforts.)

Alligators to the Rescue- the Dangers of Extinction

Although I love all my cats as if they're my own children, my favorite animals have always been crocodiles and alligators.  I can lie and point to their resiliency, slyness, toughness, and adaptability as an excuse to like these prehistoric creatures so, but the truth is that I just find crocodiles and alligators adorable.  What an animal encyclopedia described as a "menacing grin," I find irresistibly cute.

My nuclear family, who had to deal with my stuffed crocodiles Alvin and Albert and with my heart melting whenever I saw a crocodile or alligator on television or at a zoo, accepted my peculiar love for crocodiles and alligators. During happier times, my wife once won a five-foot stuffed crocodile at Hershey Park and then refused all offers made there for it, having my stepdaughter's then-boyfriend carry it all around the park (I hope that wasn't why he and she broke up...), just to be able to present it to me (I named him Alfonso).  Even during our most emotional disagreements, my wife still showed a soft spot and encouraged me to realize my oft-articulated dream of going into a swamp in the South or to a water hole in Africa and give a real-life alligator or crocodile a hug.  All husbands should be fortunate to have enjoyed such a wife's love.

Because of my love for these adorable reptiles, any news story involving them may pique my interest.  One day, while on the Internet, I came across a feature on a study involving a potential medical advancement involving alligators.  Scientists in Louisiana had observed that alligators, who typically suffer severe cuts while clashing with each other over mates and territory in bacteria-infested swamps, rarely died of infections.  The scientists believed that peptides, fragments of proteins found in alligator blood, helped defend the alligators from infections.

With this hypothesis, the scientists created an alligator serum from the peptides and exposed both it and a human serum to 23 strains of bacteria.  The human serum destroyed eight strains of bacteria.  The alligator serum destroyed all 23 strains, including MRSA, a strain highly-resistant to drugs.  The alligator serum even killed a good part of the HIV virus.

Based on the study, the researchers believed that pills and creams containing these peptides could eventually be marketed.  The products, the story asserted, "would be a boon to patients that need extra help preventing infections, such as diabetes patients with foot ulcers, burn victims, and people suffering from auto-immune diseases."  So, what's the hold up with this wonder drug?  Some typical bureaucratic FDA roadblocks, perhaps? Well, not exactly.  Actually, the alligator serum created is thus far too toxic for human cells.

So, why did I bore you, dear reader, with a self-indulgent tale of my love for crocodiles that spiraled into an optimistic study, leading only to naught?  Because THAT'S HOW SCIENCE ADVANCES! A scientist makes an observation that, in hindsight, seems obvious and develops a hypothesis from it and, through trial-and-error, hints at a panacea that can improve our lives. Eventually, we will learn how to harness the potency of these alligator peptides for practical use.

And, thank God, we have the crocodiles around to make these elementary observations on, but what about the animals and plants now extinct?  The Dodo, Thylacin, Emperor Rat, Chinese River Dolphin, the English Wolf, the Caspian and Javan Tigers, Stellar's Sea Cow, the Quagga- they're all gone.  Last year, the Japanese River Otter became extinct, a development that, in retrospect, will be far more significant than the trivial news items we fuss over.

In 1998, there were 854 animals and 909 plants on the Endangered Species List.  In 2012, those numbers jumped to 2129 and 1821, respectively.  Isn't it conceivable that the habits of animals on this list, such as the Angel Shark, the Javan Rhino, the Geometric Tortoise, and especially the Hainan Gibbon (part of the primate family), can be observed in such a manner as to lead to a medical breakthrough?  More to the point, isn't it conceivable that at least one of the plants on this list may contain a medicinal property that can lead to a cure for cancer, ALS, and other diseases?  Since extinct animals and plants benefit no one, isn't it in our self-interest to keep these creatures around "just-in-case"? *See answers below

So, get involved!  There are many wonderful charitable organizations to which I belong dedicated to promoting conservation efforts and animal welfare, such as the World Wildlife Fund, the National Wildlife Federation, the Nature Conservancy, the Waterkeeper Alliance, and so forth.  If you don't wish to become a member, that's fine, but take the time to at least visit one of their websites and learn about their work.  You will be better for it.

* Yes, Yes, Yes

My Favorite Monkee Davy Jones

It's been over a year, but I still cannot believe that Monkee Davy Jones is dead. I had first learned of his premature passing on that terrible February 29th last year via a Facebook post, and cried for a good while. As I watched episodes of the Monkees reruns and listened to my Monkees music collection as the days passed, I realized that, although I was not even alive during the height of his popularity, no celebrity will ever mean more to me than Davy Jones.

During summer vacation in Maine in 1979, I was playing billiards with my cousin Peter in his basement. Peter put on his turntable a record by a group I had never before heard, the Monkees' eponymous 1966 debut album. To my musically unsophisticated nine-year old ears, I liked what I was hearing, and also liked the other Monkees album he had, the Monkees' second LP More of the Monkees. Always on the prowl for the obscure to like, I taped both LPs on cassette, and wanted to learn more about the group.

Back then, both music and biographical information about the Monkees was hard to come by. I treasured my first Monkees 45 (a reissue featuring the Monkees Theme/Last Train to Clarksville). I distinctly recall my first-ever purchase of a Monkees LP, the Monkees Greatest Hits, and remember asking for and getting the Monkees Greatest Hits, Volume 2 one Christmas. I remembered being thrilled to see the Monkees featured in a segment on an ABC summer replacement series titled "Whatever Became Of?" and enjoyed Davy Jones' appearances on Scooby Doo and on the Brady Bunch. I pronouced myself a Monkees fan, which caused me no small amount of ridicule from my peers on the basis of their name alone.

The dearth of accessible Monkees-related output started to change when Rhino Records reissued Monkees' LPs. I saw a Rhino cassette of More of the Monkees in Sam Goody's, and asked my mother to buy it for me. 1985 saw the release of the Monkees Tale by Eric Lefcowitz, the first serious biography ever penned about the group.

1986 was the big comeback year for the Monkees, when a 20th anniversary reunion tour coincided with MTV running a weekend marathon of their innovative series, sparking an immediate Monkees revival. Suddenly, the Rhino album reissues were charting, and everyone knew the Monkees. And LOVED the Monkees. I felt vindicated.

As the Monkees' popularity increased, a strange internal dichotomy appeared. Although I prided myself on being different and, although it would have been more hip to declare the witty extrovert Micky Dolenz, the most musically-authentic Peter Tork, or the principled Mike Nesmith my favorite Monkee, Davy Jones, the most popular member and one of the biggest teen idols in pop-rock history, was still the one I liked the most.

I liked Davy because he was as authentic as a teen idol could be. Although Davy began to write songs only after the critical backlash the Monkees faced in 1967 for not playing on their first two albums, he understood that he was an actor and an entertainer more than an ambitious "aritist." Rather than yearning to direct, as the other Monkees did during the original series run, Davy unpretentiously admitted, "I'm best directed." Although as popular as any celebrity during the Monkees heyday, Davy had no public meltdowns, never succumbed to the trappings of rock stardom, never embraced the excesses of that era, and carried himself with a simple dignity that reflected his working-class English roots.

I saw Davy in concert on four separate occasions, and found him to be the most accessible celebrity I ever met. The first occasion was a solo appearance at a free concert at Smith Point Beach, NY (aborted by a driving rainstorm), the second a Monkees 1997 concert appearance at the Westbury Music Fair in Westbury, NY (a show where I simply marked out after Davy replicated a signature shuffle first seen during the Monkees 1967 video clip of Daydream Believer). I met Davy for the first time in 2001 after a Monkees concert in Portland, Maine. After the show, Davy came out to greet all the fans who waited, signing anything (including my then-girlfriend's chest!), and posing for pictures with anyone who wanted one, a gesture he repeated when I saw him for the fourth and last time during a solo appearance in Wilmington, DE in 2005, as gracious and friendly to everyone as ever.
More than any celebrity that I'm aware of, Davy appreciated his legions of loyal fans, understood their importance in his life (and he in their lives), and, without any fanfare, gave FAR MORE than someone of his status needed to, regardless of the locale. "You can't ever forget your reponsibility to your fans," wrote Davy. (For an exemplar of the wonderfulness of Davy's heart, please read the following link: http://www.azcentral.com/thingstodo/music/articles/20120313davy-jones-monkees-rhonda-cook-phoenix-cave-creek.html).

Davy was quite underrated as a performer. The 58 episodes from the two-year run of the Monkees television series, which feature Davy's versatility and comic talent, are as fresh, innovative, and effervescent today as they appeared when the comedy premiered back in 1966. The Monkees' only motion picture, Head (1968), is one of the greatest rock movies ever released and, unlike most features in that genre, can withstand repeated viewings. Surprisingly (given the critical reception during their heyday), the Monkees' music holds up just about as well as any music released during that era. While no LP in the Monkees catalog is entirely unassailable (Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, and Jones (1967) and the Head soundtrack (1968) come the closest, in this writer's opinion), each release has several stand-out moments and are warmly recommended. Among Davy's shining moments on vinyl include gritty pop (Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow), She Hangs Out, Valleri, and the unreleased Love to Love), comedy (This Just Doesn't Seem to be My Day, Laugh), Tin Pan Alley (the Nilsson tunes Cuddly Toy and Daddy's Song- for the latter, the movie version is superior to the track released on LP), self-penned tunes (the underrated the Poster, the rocker You and I (featuring one Neil Young on guitar), the unreleased Changes), Someday Man, and the song for which Davy will forever be linked, Daydream Believer. 

Thank you, David Thomas Jones, for being a great entertainer, a great father to your daughters, and, forever, My Favorite Monkee.