Paul Davy, Davy Paul

Happy blogoversary to us, happy blogoversary to us, happy blogoversary dear Novel Girls, happy blogoversary to us! YAY, we've made it a whole year. And it's celebration time. We're giving away prizes and making this a special month for all who follow. Please take a moment to move your eyes over to the right and study the rules. We have Tracy to thank for putting them together.

Now, on to her suggested topic.

My first love? That's easy. But I'll have to go ahead and fess up right now. I was a two-timer. A non-committal flaky eight-year-old with a cheating heart.

I'd flop from Paul to Davy and then back to Paul again "as quick as a jack rabbit," (as we liked to say in those days). My school notebook stored the evidence. It had a huge red heart drawn on the front with a big Paul written in the center. If you turned the notebook over you'd have seen Davy, etched in a different color fat magic marker, but having the same big red heart drawn around his name. On the inside of the notebook one could see how I'd practice my cursive - Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, and on the back - you guessed it - Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, in slightly slanted rows extending from the top all the way to the bottom of the notebook.

Now, I'm assuming that y'all know who I'm talking about. As the, a-hem, elder of the group, sometimes I forget that my childhood escapades may have preceded those of my fellow Novel Girls. I'm betting that you've probably figured out the Paul part - McCartney of course - but you might not have guessed the identity of Davy. It's Davy Jones, lead singer of the Monkees. Wake Up Sleepy Jean? Just look at that baby face.

Can't you see how being in love with one brought on the temptation to rove the eyes toward the other?

I gotta say beside their beautiful faces, the British accents did me in. And they still do even to this day. I can hear a British guy with long hair say, "Hi Luv" and before I know it I've planned the wedding and picked out the flowers.

And oh my gosh, let's not forget the souvenirs. I was obsessed with buying their bubble gum cards. It was a banner day if you got a Davy card in your pack and a Paul card was even better. I'd even switch off lunch boxes every other day. Monkees to Beatles and back again. AND WHERE IS THAT HIGHLY VALUABLE MEMORABILIA TODAY? Who knows. Gone by the same wayside as my original Barbies. Sheesh.

On Saturday mornings, I was plastered in front of the TV waiting on the Beatles cartoons. Each show was titled after one of their songs and of course were goofy and funny. Then the Monkees would come on at 11:00. I'd wait all week and when the opening would come on I'd be in Monkee heaven. "Here we come, walking down the street, get the funniest looks from everyone we meet, Hey Hey we're the Monkees, people say we monkey around, we're too busy singing to put anybody down." Sorry, y'all, I just had to make sure I'm still on my game. The words are just as fresh today as they were 40 years ago.

And speaking of today, the young girls think the Jonas Brothers have something special going on. "Where's their own TV show?" is all I have to say.

As an end note. Please be sure and check out my website for my Whistlin' Dixie In a Nor'easter debut give-away contest. By the end of the week, I'll be offering my own fun! Happy Wednesday all. I'd love to hear about your own boy-band crushes.