New Jim Morrison Book Released
I Remember
by Alan Graham
"As intimate a portrait of Jim Morrison’s character and the forces which shaped his life and death as the reader is ever likely to encounter...”
This book is not just another rehash of the same old sensational tell-all dirt and gossip, but a collection of bitter and sweet memories concerning the life and times of: Jim Morrison a.k.a. “The Lizard King”.
These stories, yarns, and anecdotes are like a collection of dreams and memories; writing them has given me the greatest of joy and my wish is to share that experience with you, the reader.
The Jim Morrison you know, unlike most public figures, is largely based on accounts of the last five years of his life.
More than forty books have been published about him, and each one reveals nothing more than the last. The reason for this is because no one in the Morrison clan has ever revealed the true details (nor will they ever) about Jim’s life inside the family.
My personal account of these events provides rare glimpses and intimate insights into the other side of Jim Morrison and the people who loved him.
A. R. Graham
Reserve Your Copy Now: $25
Excerpt from I Remember Jim Morrison By Alan Graham:
“The Admiral and the Rock Idol”
Film, the medium of endless dimension – at U.C.L.A. Film School, Jim Morrison found himself.
Professor Ed Brokaw loved Morrison. In an interview after the singer’s death, the professor would describe Jim as genius. Francis Ford Coppola, Carol Ballard, and many more now-famous directors had attended the same school, but Morrison had “much better stuff”. He graduated in 1965 with a degree in cinema and fine arts. He wrote the Admiral a “this is what I’m going to do with my life, Dad” letter. Morrison wanted to become a film director.
The Admiral did a backwards somersault. “What, no Naval Academy?...No discipline?...No Admiral Junior?...Jumping Jesus!...No son of mine is going to get involved in the Commie, anti-war movie industry!...John Wayne movies are fine, but this creative crap is out!...How could you study in a field that can’t possibly make you a living?...No, film making is not for you…Cut your hair and get a real job… If you don’t, you’ll get no support from me..."
Jim lived on the beach in Venice for the next year scrounging food from a dumpster in the back of a grocery store and sleeping like a rat under an old tarp on somebody’s rooftop.
The Admiral searched in vain. He wanted to find his son for one reason only and that was to make him honor his obligation to the draft board. As fate would have its mysterious way. Instead of becoming, “le nouveau realisateur de film extraordinaire du jour” (“the extraordinary new filmmaker of the day”), Morrison became, “le nouvel idole extraordinaire de roche du jour” (“the extraordinary new rock idol of the day”). Neither was a fate his father would have chosen for him. Nor did his father have a say. The die was cast. In 1966, “Light My Fire”, was number one in the nation. Morrison finally surfaced, his face peering mysteriously from the front of an album cover. Mrs. Admiral bought two dozen copies. Her first born was famous. She hid the albums from her husband. Time Magazine ran an article on The Doors. It was a flattering critique on Jim’s lyrics and singing style. The Admiral’s secretary slipped a copy on his desk with the morning coffee. The naval officer was not amused. It took him three decades to get where he was. Jim had achieved much more. The salary dwarfed his father’s and this angered the Admiral.
“Yes, but those aren’t real dollars he’s making. No one could make that much money in one night. It took me 30 years to make a fraction of that and I really had to work hard to do so.” Many sons have died tragically trying to get their fathers’ approval. The work ethic has its own separate and devastating reality. The ghost of John Paul Jones entered the Admiral’s Pentagon office. “You realize, of course, that this is the end of your career. Your revolutionary son has made it impossible for you to go any further in this man’s navy. What happened? How did he get so out of hand?”
The Admiral looked directly into the eyes of the first sea lord. “I don’t believe in ghosts”, he said. Morrison’s lyrics jumped out of the Time Magazine and stuck to the walls. “Do you know we are being led to slaughter by flaccid admirals and fat, slow generals are feeding on our blood?” The Admiral rose from his desk and wiped them off the wall with a dirty rag.
“That Moment of Freedom”
“…Moment of freedom as the prisoner blinks in the sun like a mole from his hole A child’s first trip away from home…”
-Jim Morrison