I’ll never forget the day I got sent to Davy Jones
He was always so healthy. Always looked after himself. I can’t believe Davy Jones, member of sixties pop sensation The Monkees, is dead of a heart attack at just 66.
I first met Davy Jones in the south of England in 1990. I was in England writing stories for a racing magazine owned by Kerry Packer and I was down near Brighton to interview the keeper of the queen’s horses, Lord Porchester.
Lord Porchester wasn’t available that day. But I had put in another call to Davy Jones, who lived nearby. He called me and said “come down to my house”.
Most people don’t realise Davy’s very first job was a stable boy. He dreamt his whole of life of being a jockey, and his love of horses never waned. He owned a stack of horses. Jumpers, mostly. He owned a stack of jumps horses. His girls all became showjumpers.
I spent two days at Davy’s house and there was not much sign of the rock star life, although he often sung to himself as he pottered around his stables “I’m a Manchester boy, my mums pride and joy an chip off the old block me dad”.
He’d blown most of his money from the Monkees. The main thing for him was the animals and the kids. One afternoon we had to go and visit his dog, who was in quarantine after coming back from America.
He was so attached to that dog that he started crying when we had to leave. He said to his daughter Jessica “don’t you cry love”, but he was the one who was in tears. He had such a kind heart.
He was incredibly nimble. To cheer himself up after visiting his dog he said “hey Jessica, flip me in the air”. Then he flipped over and landed on his back and made it seem like his daughter had super powers. He was incredibly nimble.
He had three daughters when I visited and his second wife Anita (a former Playboy model) was pregnant with his fourth (and her second). We talked about how much he adored his three girls and he said “one thing I’ve done really well in life is I make beautiful daughters”.
Anita was so heavily pregnant that she used to carry as bottle of apple juice around everywhere she went. So if her waters broke she could drop the juice and say “ooh, I appear to have spilt some juice”.
The only rock star moment in my two days with Davy was when he took us out for dinner at the local pub and introduced me to Yorkshire pudding. There was pretty much a steady stream of people of all ages coming up to him the whole time. He was very polite with all of them.
I met him again two years later when he toured Australia. They were hard times for the band, but they played at middle-sized venues and RSLs and absolutely wowed Australian fans. I was then working as a television producer and made sure I got him on the show I was then working on.
We met up again after one of his shows and swapped photos of the previous trip. We stayed in touch, and he sent cards when my children were born. His sign off was always “when we meet again in England, don’t bring a crib, we’ve got a couple of spares”.
Davy Jones’s dad often told him he had “duck’s disease”. “Your arse is too close to the ground son” but this made Davy Jones the smallest, cutest member of the global sensation “The Monkees.
I will miss him.
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I first met Davy Jones in the south of England in 1990. I was in England writing stories for a racing magazine owned by Kerry Packer and I was down near Brighton to interview the keeper of the queen’s horses, Lord Porchester.
Lord Porchester wasn’t available that day. But I had put in another call to Davy Jones, who lived nearby. He called me and said “come down to my house”.
Most people don’t realise Davy’s very first job was a stable boy. He dreamt his whole of life of being a jockey, and his love of horses never waned. He owned a stack of horses. Jumpers, mostly. He owned a stack of jumps horses. His girls all became showjumpers.
I spent two days at Davy’s house and there was not much sign of the rock star life, although he often sung to himself as he pottered around his stables “I’m a Manchester boy, my mums pride and joy an chip off the old block me dad”.
He’d blown most of his money from the Monkees. The main thing for him was the animals and the kids. One afternoon we had to go and visit his dog, who was in quarantine after coming back from America.
He was so attached to that dog that he started crying when we had to leave. He said to his daughter Jessica “don’t you cry love”, but he was the one who was in tears. He had such a kind heart.
He was incredibly nimble. To cheer himself up after visiting his dog he said “hey Jessica, flip me in the air”. Then he flipped over and landed on his back and made it seem like his daughter had super powers. He was incredibly nimble.
He had three daughters when I visited and his second wife Anita (a former Playboy model) was pregnant with his fourth (and her second). We talked about how much he adored his three girls and he said “one thing I’ve done really well in life is I make beautiful daughters”.
Anita was so heavily pregnant that she used to carry as bottle of apple juice around everywhere she went. So if her waters broke she could drop the juice and say “ooh, I appear to have spilt some juice”.
The only rock star moment in my two days with Davy was when he took us out for dinner at the local pub and introduced me to Yorkshire pudding. There was pretty much a steady stream of people of all ages coming up to him the whole time. He was very polite with all of them.
I met him again two years later when he toured Australia. They were hard times for the band, but they played at middle-sized venues and RSLs and absolutely wowed Australian fans. I was then working as a television producer and made sure I got him on the show I was then working on.
We met up again after one of his shows and swapped photos of the previous trip. We stayed in touch, and he sent cards when my children were born. His sign off was always “when we meet again in England, don’t bring a crib, we’ve got a couple of spares”.
Davy Jones’s dad often told him he had “duck’s disease”. “Your arse is too close to the ground son” but this made Davy Jones the smallest, cutest member of the global sensation “The Monkees.
I will miss him.
Read More