He loves the girls, the girls love him. But the great tragedy about Davy Jones is that he can’t—won’t permit himself—to fall desperately and forever in love. Not now when his career demands all the attentions of a jealous girlfriend. Sometimes, late at night, he wonders if a career is really worth the sacrifices… but then he tells himself he has no choice.
Davy’s address book is bulging with the names and telephone numbers of the most beautiful girls in Hollywood, all of whom would drop whatever they’re doing and rush over to his house to have dinner waiting for him when he gets home from the studio. All Davy has to do is ask them. These girls, who have careers and ambitions of their own, are the ones he goes out with now. They aren’t especially interested in marriage, so Davy can have a great night out with them without anybody getting serious. As he sadly admits, he can’t get serious about anybody right now…
Deeply in love
“There was a girl I was in love with when I first came here to Los Angeles. She was an usherette at the Music Center where I was playing in ‘Pickwick.’ She came from a very nice family in Burbank (a suburb of Los Angeles), and we became so involved we started seeing each other every night. I’d call her once or twice during the day, and then we’d go out on a date after each performance. We were really involved with each other—really in love. Then ‘The Monkees’ thing got started, and it started happening.
“I’d work all day and come home dead-tired. I’d call her up and say, ‘I just can’t go out tonight. I’m too exhausted. After a few weeks of that, she just gave up. I can’t blame her. Any girl with class is not going to stand that for long. But you see I couldn’t help it, so then and there I vowed to myself I would go out with the type of girl who wasn’t about to get serious, or at the very least, the kind that I wouldn’t get serious about. To me love means being on the telephone with her, spending long hours together, being inseparable. And right now that’s impossible so I guess I just have to accept it.
Can’t go out
“I have a lot of girlfriends, but I don’t date a lot. They come up to my house and cook dinner. If I feel like I want to go out with a girl I call her up from the studio and ask her over to my house… tell her I’ll be home about 7:00 and would like so and so for dinner. I go out with the kinds of girls who understand that I can’t take them out and wine and dine them every night.
“It’s a drag for me to go out and eat in a restaurant or go and see a movie with just the two of us. I feel better, and much less obvious, with four or more people. Sure, I can go out on a date and go to a place like the Daisy Club because nobody is going to bother me—there are just too many celebrities there. Or I can go to a movie, but it’s not like people just ask you for your autograph and then leave you alone. There are really three types of people: the type that wants your autograph, the type that looks and starts whispering to each other about you, or the ones who say, ‘Oh, so you think you’re a big man, eh,’ and seem to want a fight.
“If I do go out I almost always go out with others. Like Steve Pitts and Charlie Rockett will get their girlfriends and all of us go out. People don’t notice me so much then.”
What kind of girl for Davy?
Davy may date millions of girls, but when he finds the right one he will settle down and live happily forever after. When Davy does settle down he will undoubtedly prize intelligence and personality over good looks.
The girl he finally chooses must be a wonderful wife—interested in keeping everything in excellent running order. And she must be a substantial help in Davy’s rise to success.
The perfect girl for Davy must be behind him one thousand percent. Because of his constant struggle upward, she must always be there with a helping hand or a kind word. Genuine appreciation from his girl is absolutely necessary for Davy’s happiness. But never interfere unless asked! Davy would resent that; he just needs the feeling that the person he loves truly loves him and is always by his side.
Davy himself has said: “I think I’ll be very easy to live with. But my wife will have to be understanding too. Suppose I told her in the morning I would be home at seven o’clock, and at five to seven I called up and said, ‘Darling, I can’t make it home because we have to record tonight.’ She’ll have to understand. But I’ll be understanding of her too.”