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Somewhere, in the heavens or in a hidden place in Africa, Mr. Mojo Risin' is knocking back a whiskey and having a good laugh.
This man with the lion mane once moved mountains.
He could roar with his voice and people would listen.
He could rock our world and people would roll.
He could fight authority and authority wouldn't always win.
After all, he was The Lizard King. And he could do anything.
What Jim Morrison wanted more than anything was to be a famous poet.
He achieved that goal somewhat.
He became a poet. And he became famous.
That's because his poems turned into classic rock songs.
And his group, The Doors, lit our fires with solid musicianship while its lead singer showed his showmanship.
Gone are the days when we had rock icons.
Back in the 1960s, during very turbulent times, the world had Jim Morrison to rock our world, stir our fires and force us to fight for what we wanted.
We would rebel against authority.
We would speak our minds.
We wouldn't be afraid.
That's because The Lizard King said so.
Jim Morrison has been dead for more than 35 years now and you would never know it.
Years ago, Rolling Stone magazine came out with one of its most stunning headlines.
There was a picture of a bare-chested Morrison on the cover and the headline, "He's Hot, He's Sexy - and He's Dead."
The Doors really didn't stick around as a group for too long.
While they certainly shared in multi-platinum success, with hits like "Light My Fire," "Riders on the Storm," "Hello, I Love You," "Touch Me," and "People Are Strange," The Doors fizzled after five years when Morrison headed off to Paris and supposedly died of an alleged heart attack or drug overdose.
Many later believed that Morrison faked his death.
He certainly drank himself to death.
This was a man of immense talent, talent that got lost in a haze of drink and drugs.
But back in the 1960s, everyone wanted an ending like James Dean.
To go out young but to live forever.
Even more than Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison got his immortality.
He is worshipped. And he is idolized.
I remember my high school friend Adam Hill being mesmerized by Morrison.
He forced me into trading him the "L.A. Woman" album for a Cheaptrick tape. And I hated Cheaptrick.
But Adam loved Morrison.
I didn't get it at the time but Adam did.
Every day, young music lovers are discovering The Doors.
They want to get to know Jim Morrison.
They want to learn about the magic. They want to tap into the myth.
Who was Mr. Mojo Risin'?
Why did he burn so brightly and then just burn out?
Maybe they've seen Oliver Stone's movie. Maybe they know the songs.
But they want something more, just as Morrison used to tell his audiences at concerts.
Morrison transformed those shows into mini-riots.
He had the power. He could control the masses. He could move mountains.
Let's see Justin Timberlake try that.
Not gonna happen.
If Morrison and The Doors were in their heyday today, they would be Public Enemy No. 1.
Instead, Morrison broke on through to the other side.

 

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