When I was in high school, barely 16, I became slightly obsessed with The Doors and especially Jim Morrison. I wrote my first paper on his life and gave a speech in front of my American History class about music of the 1960s as I dressed in (faux) leather pants and a white peasant blouse like the man himself. I researched Rolling stones and read "No one here gets out alive" like my life depended on it. You know how people would get lost in the music and actually go to a record store to buy a new album? That's what I did. Walking into a Virgin Megastore and buying the greatest hits and falling in love with nearly every track.A few years later, barely in my first year of college, I took a trip to New York City and went to Greenwich Village for the first time. I bought The Doors' Absolutely Live album and have kept it for over 6 years just protected and have yet to play it on an actual record player until I can find the time to truly listen.
The years before I turned 20, I was lost in music, absorbing everything like a sponge and working on my poetry and stories with a fierce agenda.I sometimes get this thought in my idea that Morrison's death was a true conspiracy as the only witness to his death was his jaded girlfriend and a so-called French Doctor who was friends with her. I wanted to buy the "Forever 27" poster just to show that sometimes the best in show cant go past that number and Morrison himself said he would be number 3. Usually the post poetic and profound are also the most psychic with their own deaths.
Watching the documentary "When you're strange" tonight, brought me back to those days of actually feeling something about music and having this little political bug in me that seemed to have just jumped off once Freshman year ended.So to Mr. Morrison I say this, thank you for making this little chick so enlightened at such an age and hopefully your work brings me back to that place.
