— — I felt sorry for Whitney Houston. But this week, the world lost two people whose departure makes me truly nostalgic.

On Friday, Jan Berenstain — the co-creator of the Berenstain Bears books series — died at age 88 after suffering a stroke the day before. Her husband, Stan, died in 2005.

The Berenstains created the series back in 1962 with the publication of “The Big Honey Hunt.” (“Not at the store. Oh, no, Small Bear. If a bear is smart, If a bear knows how, He goes on a honey hunt. Watch me now!”) Today, there are hundreds of books, as well as a TV series, portraying the adventures of Brother Bear, Sister Bear, Mama Bear and Papa Bear.

Yeah, they can be a little formulaic. (Bears have problem. Bears solve problem. Brother and Sister get annoyed with each other. Mama looks wise. Papa — almost always — looks silly.) Yeah, they can be a little preachy. (The Bears have, over the years, dealt with issues from bullying to childhood obesity.)

But they’ve stuck around. And there are good reasons for that.

I remember one given to me as a child, probably around the time my younger brother was born. It was titled, appropriately enough, “The Berenstain Bears’ New Baby.” I was fascinated by it. Thirty-one years later, I can remember Brother Bear looking at his new sister, tucked into his very own little bed (which he’d grown out of).

I remember a book that dealt with the first day of school, too. I remember Sister Bear being scared and nervous about it. I remember her visit to her new teacher. I remember her holding the hand of a little boy (bear?) on the bus. I close my eyes and can see the pictures ... especially the awe with which Sister regards her new classroom, with its toys, desks and a big tub of modeling clay.

It’s probably been more than 30 years since I’ve last actually seen that book. What does that tell you? It tells me that, whatever the critics say, the Berenstain Bears hit some sort of chord.

When we visit the Strong Museum of Play in Rochester, my sons can spend hours in one part alone ... and often that part is the Bernenstain Bears exhibit. They whiz down the slide to Brother’s treehouse (with its “No Girls Allowed” sign with the “No” crossed out ... reference to another book). They can “cook” at the Bear Family Restaurant. They can visit Farmer Ben’s Farm.

And they can peruse the dozens of copies of the books that wait for readers in the exhibit. Fifty years after that first book was published, you still see kids sitting and reading them ... including mine.

•••

As of this writing, word has just broken that Davy Jones of the Monkees had died at the age of 66 from an apparent heart attack.

Enter “last train to Clarksville” jokes aplenty on Facebook ... and an equal amount of people reminiscing about watching “The Monkees” show and singing along to the music.

I’m one of them. The group had disbanded by the time I was born, but I still remember sitting with my dad and watching the reruns. To this band, the music is still prime earworm material for me.

I have “Daydream Believer” stuck in my head right now. How about you?

I suppose there are worse ways to be remembered. RIP, Davy Jones.

Jill Keppeler is a writer for the Tonawanda News. She can be reached at jill.keppeler@tonawanda-news.com.