Don't "Laugh," It will always be a "Pleasant Valley Sunday"

I've always loved the Monkees and I'm not afraid to declare it on social media. 

I was wearing Red Ball Jets and collecting Topps' baseball cards when the Monkees hit the airwaves, but they certainly left a lasting impression. Their music always reminds me of my youthful exuberance, when I didn't have a care in the world.

In fact, the teenage girl next door didn't mind my hanging around, even when the Monkees appeared in living color on her parent's Zenith. However, I wasn't allowed to speak unless spoken to -- which my parents never even demanded. At the time, this was serious business for young girls beginning to flirt with young boys.

On top of the TV show, there were record albums containing songs that topped the charts, eventually eclipsing those of the Beatles. I began to save my lunch money in order to buy the 33-1/3 and 45-RPM vinyl discs that were all the rage. I still have them all, a couple are the mono versions.

As the years passed, my record collection grew into the hundreds, and the Monkee albums took a backseat to everybody from Bob Dylan and the Doors to the Doobie Brothers and the Eagles to the Clash and the Talking Heads. But, they were always there, patiently waiting to be dusted off and played on a steady progression of updated stereo equipment. I always took good care of my albums in an attempt to ward off the nearly inevitable snap, crackle and pop, which detracts from their initial hi-fi quality. So far, I have succeeded. The albums are all encased in plastic sleeves, too.

Then came compact discs and the required replacement of my favorite tunes from the vinyl days. It was a long, drawn-out and costly process, but I determined that it had to be done. I wasn't exactly enamored by the state of music at the time, anyway. I'm still not. That's when I realized that age was taking its toll on me. I guess it's true. If the music is too loud, you're too old.

Anyway, in the early 1990s, I found a box set entitled "Listen to the Band," which contained nearly all of the Monkee's recordings on four discs. It was an impulse buy of the highest caliber. I just couldn't resist. But, that's not the most interesting part of the story. The following interchange transpired at the checkout counter -- even if some of it was only in my mind.

As I placed my prized discovery on the counter, the vibrant, young girl who began to ring it up, gave me a look I'll never forget. I swear that if I could have read her mind, she was thinking, "Is this old coot really going to buy this? Should I alert someone? He's gotta be out of his mind. He must be missing from the home." I completed my purchase, picked up my package and headed directly out the front door. 

I got in my car, slipped the first disc into the CD player and smiled from ear to ear as I heard, "Here we come, walking down the street ... " As far as I'm concerned, I got the last laugh -- if only in my mind.

This musing was inspired by last week's release of "Good Times!," by non other than the Monkees. It debuted as the top selling album on Amazon and in the Top 10 nationwide, a mere 50 years since "The Last Train to Clarksville" left the station. I guess age truly is only a number.