Monday, July 24, 2006

Since I'm panting anyway

Mmmm, those hips... the one & only Mr. Mojo-risin', circa 1967.

In those days, rock stars were a lot more accessible than they are today. My ex-old man actually met Morrison once in Fran's, a 24-hour Toronto restaurant patronized by hippies too stoned to make it home. The ex was about 16 at the time (teehee), and he and his buddies were ecstatic to see Morrison at a table with a couple of band members. Ex and friends approached Morrison's table, all "hey man, yeah man, far out man" to which a drunken Morrison snarled "Fuck off". The little hippies quickly departed to another table where they had milkshakes and tried to make sense of the event, but it was clearly traumatic. Years later, I could never put on a Doors album ("album" -- yeah, vinyl) without hearing about what an asshole Morrison was.