So sad today that Davy Jones died. He was 66, so it’s not that shocking, but now that I’m older I’m thinking, it’s really not that old. I didn’t know Davy Jones personally, (but how cool would that have been if I did?) so on the one hand I shouldn’t be that sad about it. However, like all things famous, most of us find a personal attachment to those things that we love. There is a small ache in my heart that the world has lost this great singer and entertainer. A small beloved piece of my childhood has died today. I loved the beautiful and usually happy music of the Monkees and who could resist that smile and accent. The Monkees and Davy Jones is something that truly made me happy as a child. I can still hear my mom saying, “You are just crazy about those Monkees.”
My girlfriend, Jodey, called today and told me that Davy Jones had died. Going over the conversation in my mind, I seem to have not been very moved by it. I don’t know if that is just me or if everyone does this, but bad news never seems to sink in until I’ve thought about it later. Is it the shock? I don’t know. Maybe it’s my way of protecting myself from bad news. It just takes a long time to process.
This is just another thing that reminds me that I am getting older. I also find time slipping away at an alarming rate. I don’t understand how time can pass so slowly when you are younger, but now I look back and it has all gone so fast. Don’t even ask me what high school reunion is coming up. I don’t even want to know. I find that I dwell on things like what I will not have done before I die. I will not have read all the books on my bookshelf or watched the videos/dvds/bluerays I have on the shelf. I’m worried that I won’t get any of my books published. I worry that I will miss out on something my child does. I wish I had one of those backward time things that Hermione got from Dumbledore.
I feel like I am wasting time on the internet/computer and should spend my time more productively. I did however hear something encouraging today. I was catching up on some talks by Bill Kenower of Author magazine. He was doing an interview and he told a story about a college professor who was very disappointed with the quality of work that students were writing. He thought that their writing was uninteresting. So he did an experiment and he found blogs for some of the students in his class. He was surprised to find that those students who wrote such boring papers, actually wrote very interesting blogs. They wrote well, when it was something that they were passionate about. Bill went on to say something to the effect that even though it has been said that people don’t read or write anymore, it is actually the contrary. People are reading and writing a tremendous amount, but it is just they are mostly doing this on-line and not in the traditional way of books, papers and magazines. This does make me feel slightly better about all the time I spend writing inane things on-line.
Another thing about getting older that makes me sad or at least is a slight downer is getting, taking, or (gasp) wanting advice from someone younger than me. (I’m just thankful that I’m not working and I don’t have to take orders from some young power hungry idiot. That would annoy me. I have heard stories about this.) I don’t know why this should bother me so much. It’s a weird thing. It’s as if I were in competition with someone (even if they are only a year or two younger). As if I have arrived at this age before them, then somehow I should know all that they know. Intellectually, I know this is crazy. Different people have different experiences and it has made them wise in different ways. I am wise in some ways (at least I hope so) and other things I’m still learning and other things will never become an issue. I still can’t help feeling like I should know as much as someone else that has lived just as long. It’s crazy. I am reminded of a bit by Gordon Pinsent. This is brilliant.
It puts it all back into perspective…