If you need a good read, check out Neil Kramer’s blog. I found his blog through some fellow homeschoolers  when he posted a GREAT article about breast feeding in public.  In our community, it went viral.

Neil started a fun thread on Facebook this morning. His post read “Favorite Beatle:  George”. Naturally folks began posting their favorites along with their reasoning.  My ADHD kicked in and everything I had been doing was soon forgotten.  I fretted over which Beatle was my favorite.  I didn’t want to pick one – John – and then find out Paul McCartney read Neil’s Facebook and secretly hated me for not picking him and then lose out on backstage tickets and an invite to the after party. I pondered and struggled with great intensity until I read Heather’s comment. After spraying my coffee all over my keyboard, I LOL’d. She said “Davey”.  If you were alive in the late 60′s or watched reruns in the 70′s (me) you of course know this is a reference to Davey Jones of the Monkees. I loved the Monkees. My favorites were Davey and Peter, though my loyalty to either was entirely based upon the last Monkee’s episode I had viewed. I loved their theme song which sent me into a state of joy only rivaled by my seeing a foil pan of Swanon’s Hungry Man Dinner come out of the oven. When Davey Jones was on the Brady Bunch, I swooned and vicariously lived through Marcia – bitch. So flash forward to the age of internet and Youtube. Feeling a little nostalgic, I decided to watch old video clips from the Monkees. I missed the simplicity of that era and began reminiscing my childhood crushes. Then I struck gold! The clip of Davey on the Brady Bunch showed up upon search and I settled in to see what I had not’t seen in years. The experience was sweet…giddy….giggly…(INSERT LOUD VINYL RECORD SCREECH HERE) oh my gourd, his eyes were crossed! In less than 37 seconds, my entire childhood infatuation with Davey hit a brick wall. His absolute and utter coolness was squelched. Crossed eyes  just aren’t sexy and I had to redefine him – but how? Thankfully, within a day, I realized my feelings were misplaced. I knew the real blame was not with Davey, but in fact with camera man A who didn’t bother to tell anyone or re-shoot the scene. But in this age of information, I think it’s time mister camera man faced the music. My guess is that he knew it and because he was secretly jealous of Davey he allowed it to be broadcast. Of course I have long since learned not to hold grudges from long gone acts of utter repulsion. I think a nice apology letter from the camera man….read live on Oprah…would right this wrong.

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