I grew up loving The Doors, and their music still moves me. (Never did get to see them, dammit!). But I was an old friend and former colleague at CBS Records of Jim's widow, the late Patricia Kennealy-Morrison, and once backed her when she read from some of Jim's unpublished erotic poetry at a tribute to Jim held at the Bowery Poetry Club, which also included my old friend Lenny Kaye.
My best Doors story, though, concerns Jim's grave.
In August 1997, I was staying in Paris, working on some new songs with French pop star/actress Elli Medeiros, who lived a stone's throw from Père-Lachaise. One day, I decided to head over there (the boneyard) and pay my respects to Jim at his graveside.
Arriving at the Cemetery Gates, I scanned a map hanging on a wall nearby that indicated the locations of the most famous celebrity graves (and there are tons of famous dead people buried there—including Edith Piaf, Simone Signoret, Isadora Duncan, Max Ophuls, Maria Callas, Michel Legrand, Marcel Marceau, Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Moliere, Proust, Colette, and Sarah Bernhardt—for starters).
But not knowing the layout of the cemetery, I had my doubts as to where exactly, according to this map, I would find Jim's grave. It was bloody confusing. Suddenly, a swarm of young boys and girls swept past me loudly, yelling and running pell-mell in a mad dash—there must have been at least 75-100 kids—all hell-bent on finding the grave of JIM.
I knew instinctively that all I needed to do was to follow them and they would lead me to it.
They did not disappoint. They knew EXACTLY where Jim Morrison was buried. And arriving at his plot below, they ringed his grave at least five kids deep, and I had to fight my way to the front of their ranks to catch my glimpse of the grave.
Now, who were these mysterious kids—this flock of kinders out for a gander at the graveside??
Turns out the then Pope John Paul II had flown into Paris that very morning from Poland with hundreds of young followers in tow to cheer him on at a big convocation the following day in Paris:
And the first thing these fine young Catholic kids wanted to do once they got to Paris was to visit the grave of JIM MORRISON!!
(A good example of the Manichean Duality is here, in which the Profane conquers the Sacred. Or viewed from another angle, the triumph of the spirit of Dionysus over the spirit of Apollo.)
Whether or not these kids had the blessings of the Pope in their group activity, I do not know.
But I kind of doubt it.
Written on the 81st anniversary of the birthday of Jim Morrison (Dec. 8th, 1943).