Making my way through the Wonders of Rock music I decided I did not want any grave sites but one nudged its way in anyway.
It is not only rock music fans, but all get drawn to a place that holds a strange type of cultural and mystical attraction.
Why some things set fire to the imagination can’t always be explained.
The fascination that the Doors and Jim Morrison continue to hold by casting a spells on fans in different generations is operating on a different plane of consciousness than just good music.
The Doors were the first band that I went back in time to get hooked on.
I did not grow up with them. And I am not alone in this.
Maybe there is something to the 4 year old witnessing death on the highway and feeling the spirit of the Shaman enter his body. (This is in that realm of -did this really happen or did something close to it happen and the memory gets twisted and tweaked over time until the by-product drives you over the edge?… Reaching god-like superstar status just before falling off the face of the earth) I am no psychologist but writing about Jim Morrison makes you think about altered states of mind.
I will suffer Paris to visit this place.
This does not seem like a nice relaxing stroll in a friendly charming city. I see Paris as teeming with tourists combined with local residents that could care less if we tourists help subsidize the quality croissants that they consume and will not help us find. It is going to be a fight through crowds in order to spend about 15 seconds at the resting place of the most romantic and wounded spirit of Rock Music. Rock stars may not go to Paris to die but poets and artists do and Jim Morrison was all of these.