Post by TheWallsScreamedPoetry on Mar 12, 2005 9:43:42 GMT
“Three days @ Jim's Joint.”
This now legendary article was first written exclusively by Michael White for TheDoors4Scorpywag's 30th anniversary issue of Jim Morrison's death July 3rd 2001
Dateline 1980: Like many of us, I got hip to The Doors after reading, then
rereading ‘No One Here Gets Out Alive’.
Cut to 1983: My first visit to LA, my hostess seems quite perplexed that the first thing I want to see is a small motel on the corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica. The Alta Cienega. To room #32, I knock and a vaguely actor type of guy in his 20's answers the door.
" I paid $220 for the week you are the fifth person here in two days, you have two minutes to look around."
Inside I found a regular little motel room ordinary in every way except for one thing: James Douglas Morrison chose this place to hang his hat.
In 1983 all the fixtures in the bathroom were original.
I walked into the bathroom, firmly grabbing the doorknob, touching the sink, the window, closing my minds eye. Yes, this was the place.
So much history happened within these walls.
No graffiti at all except two small notes behind the wall mounted TV, scribbled in pen by different hands. The first said plainly:
"Jim Morrison lived here from 1968-1971."
The next missive was a bit more obtuse:
" Jim Morrison is alive and well in South Africa".
There was one other non regulation non sequitor to be found outside the rooms only window, visible from the street. in eight inch print, drawn in pencil:
“Jim's Joint.”<br>Soon after I did manage to get a paperback of JDM's ‘The Lords and The New Creatures’. From reading those words I too became inspired to write poetry of my own and to live the life of a poet by honing my writing skills and generally living life to excess. And that's just what I did for the next 10 years or so.
Then along comes Wilderness the "lost" poems of JDM. (Some of you may ask why I refer to Jim as JDM? I did not ever meet "Jim" thru a song or in person, it was the words he left that tell me that Jim wanted to be taken seriously as a writer. He signed his books of poetry James Douglas Morrison, and since this is how he wanted to be presented to me his reader I honour this and since it's too cumbersome to write out every time so I use: JDM, feeling that just saying or writing "Jim" is somehow not appropriate.) So along about 1990:
I find myself reading Wilderness. On page 84 I stumbled onto a gem of a poem that makes mention of the green hotel, rm. 32, JDM's Alta Cienega.
I am a guide to the labyrinth
Come & See me
in the green hotel
Rm. 32
I will be there after 9:30 P.M.
I will show you the girl of the ghetto
I will show you the burning well
I will show you strange people
haunted, beast-like on the
verge of evolution
-Fear the Lords who are
secret among us
And then for me it happened, gradually at first. I began to devour all things
related to JDM and the Doors. I had to have every scrap of the puzzle that was The Doors, all facts and myths, photos, music. Only the tacky collectibles were safe from my appetite. Id' get a book or two to read and reflect on during the winter months.
Many made mention to The Alta Cienega as well as other West Hollywood spots, ‘Barney's Beanery’, ‘The Palms’ and ‘The Phone Booth.’
My curiosity only grew about much of JDM's life. But the most puzzling thing to me (and the most enviable) was his lack of want for material goods and while he could have lived in a fine home or hotel, why did he choose this little motel? I could speculate for ages, but my underlying belief is he just didn't want the responsibility of maintaining a home and all that entails. Plus it was right across the street from work, cutting down his commute time.
2001: Basically I feel we all search for some piece of JDM, be it in the music, the
poetry, books on his life, posters, photos, autographs, you name it. I am sure
that's what brings everyone to Paris to see where he lived and was buried. I
laboured hard and long on the decision to go this year.
Flashbacks of a Who concert gone awry I attended years ago to this day makes
me leery of crowds. I needed a plan.
I decided that going to the Alta Cienega would be the thing to do.
To get the famous "Jim Morrison Memorial Room." This was what the brass
plaque on the door to Rm. 32 indicated when I was there the previous month.
About three weeks prior to the anniversary of JDM's death I contacted the
resident owner/manager Charlie Yang. I had met Charlie briefly the previous
visit. When I arrived at the motel then, the door to the famous room was open
for cleaning. Video camera in hand I climbed the same stairs I had 18 years
ago, the same stairs JDM climbed all the time in his day. The room was very
much as I remembered it with one glaring exception, now an entire wall was
devoted to graffiti most of which was very sophomoric. As I was checking in
that day a young tourist from the UK was right behind me, inquiring about
"that room." Obviously he was on the trail of JDM much like myself. A brief
discussion about JDM ensued. From behind the motel counter stood Charlie Yang a Taiwanese immigrant in his early 60's. Charlie has most unusual eyes, blue coloured and mismatching like a husky or malamute's. I asked him "Do you like Morrison?" The corners of his mouth tightened slightly before a smile spread to his face and he replied with his native accent "Oh Yes, I like Jeeem!"
Charlie had told me then that until recently a photo of "Jeeem" had been in
the room but was recently stolen. "Not a problem I assured him, I'll be
sending you a new one." That night I slept in Room. 14, but I reasoned there was a chance JDM had slept in many of the rooms there, checking in and out many times. That night I was determined to go walk and drink where the man had done so, so many years before. First stop: The Palms. Located in the same
spot all these years, it is a narrow long bar lined with mirrors. The only
thing that has changed in all these years seems to be the bar's cliental. It
took me a drink, then another to head toward the patio out back. For perhaps
two minutes I laboured under the misconception that there was a high
percentage of women there. The while negotiating between some chairs I was
briefly harangued by a lesbian. Suddenly I realized that there was a high
percentage of women there, me being the only man. To cut to the chase, West
Hollywood is a very gay area these days. Gone are the topless bars and pool
halls of JDM's time. Now frozen yoghurt stands and tanning parlours lie in
their wake. Still I met a new friend named Vicky and we proceeded to walk
down Santa Monica to the famous Barney's Beanery.
As we walked by a small two story building near the corner of La Cienega, now Benvenuto's Cafe, I paused and lit a smoke and peered toward the former Doors office. At Barney's I told Vicky why she had found me at a dyke bar in West Hollywood.
She seemed interested that such a man's man had frequented the popular "dyke bar". I suggested the bar had only turned gay since JDM had left LA,
I joked too that many women had probably jumped the fence after JDM's untimely demise. More drinks and back to my room, I had an early flight. It was then I decided I need to go back on the thirtieth anniversary of JDM's death.
This now legendary article was first written exclusively by Michael White for TheDoors4Scorpywag's 30th anniversary issue of Jim Morrison's death July 3rd 2001
Dateline 1980: Like many of us, I got hip to The Doors after reading, then
rereading ‘No One Here Gets Out Alive’.
Cut to 1983: My first visit to LA, my hostess seems quite perplexed that the first thing I want to see is a small motel on the corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica. The Alta Cienega. To room #32, I knock and a vaguely actor type of guy in his 20's answers the door.
" I paid $220 for the week you are the fifth person here in two days, you have two minutes to look around."
Inside I found a regular little motel room ordinary in every way except for one thing: James Douglas Morrison chose this place to hang his hat.
In 1983 all the fixtures in the bathroom were original.
I walked into the bathroom, firmly grabbing the doorknob, touching the sink, the window, closing my minds eye. Yes, this was the place.
So much history happened within these walls.
No graffiti at all except two small notes behind the wall mounted TV, scribbled in pen by different hands. The first said plainly:
"Jim Morrison lived here from 1968-1971."
The next missive was a bit more obtuse:
" Jim Morrison is alive and well in South Africa".
There was one other non regulation non sequitor to be found outside the rooms only window, visible from the street. in eight inch print, drawn in pencil:
“Jim's Joint.”<br>Soon after I did manage to get a paperback of JDM's ‘The Lords and The New Creatures’. From reading those words I too became inspired to write poetry of my own and to live the life of a poet by honing my writing skills and generally living life to excess. And that's just what I did for the next 10 years or so.
Then along comes Wilderness the "lost" poems of JDM. (Some of you may ask why I refer to Jim as JDM? I did not ever meet "Jim" thru a song or in person, it was the words he left that tell me that Jim wanted to be taken seriously as a writer. He signed his books of poetry James Douglas Morrison, and since this is how he wanted to be presented to me his reader I honour this and since it's too cumbersome to write out every time so I use: JDM, feeling that just saying or writing "Jim" is somehow not appropriate.) So along about 1990:
I find myself reading Wilderness. On page 84 I stumbled onto a gem of a poem that makes mention of the green hotel, rm. 32, JDM's Alta Cienega.
I am a guide to the labyrinth
Come & See me
in the green hotel
Rm. 32
I will be there after 9:30 P.M.
I will show you the girl of the ghetto
I will show you the burning well
I will show you strange people
haunted, beast-like on the
verge of evolution
-Fear the Lords who are
secret among us
And then for me it happened, gradually at first. I began to devour all things
related to JDM and the Doors. I had to have every scrap of the puzzle that was The Doors, all facts and myths, photos, music. Only the tacky collectibles were safe from my appetite. Id' get a book or two to read and reflect on during the winter months.
Many made mention to The Alta Cienega as well as other West Hollywood spots, ‘Barney's Beanery’, ‘The Palms’ and ‘The Phone Booth.’
My curiosity only grew about much of JDM's life. But the most puzzling thing to me (and the most enviable) was his lack of want for material goods and while he could have lived in a fine home or hotel, why did he choose this little motel? I could speculate for ages, but my underlying belief is he just didn't want the responsibility of maintaining a home and all that entails. Plus it was right across the street from work, cutting down his commute time.
2001: Basically I feel we all search for some piece of JDM, be it in the music, the
poetry, books on his life, posters, photos, autographs, you name it. I am sure
that's what brings everyone to Paris to see where he lived and was buried. I
laboured hard and long on the decision to go this year.
Flashbacks of a Who concert gone awry I attended years ago to this day makes
me leery of crowds. I needed a plan.
I decided that going to the Alta Cienega would be the thing to do.
To get the famous "Jim Morrison Memorial Room." This was what the brass
plaque on the door to Rm. 32 indicated when I was there the previous month.
About three weeks prior to the anniversary of JDM's death I contacted the
resident owner/manager Charlie Yang. I had met Charlie briefly the previous
visit. When I arrived at the motel then, the door to the famous room was open
for cleaning. Video camera in hand I climbed the same stairs I had 18 years
ago, the same stairs JDM climbed all the time in his day. The room was very
much as I remembered it with one glaring exception, now an entire wall was
devoted to graffiti most of which was very sophomoric. As I was checking in
that day a young tourist from the UK was right behind me, inquiring about
"that room." Obviously he was on the trail of JDM much like myself. A brief
discussion about JDM ensued. From behind the motel counter stood Charlie Yang a Taiwanese immigrant in his early 60's. Charlie has most unusual eyes, blue coloured and mismatching like a husky or malamute's. I asked him "Do you like Morrison?" The corners of his mouth tightened slightly before a smile spread to his face and he replied with his native accent "Oh Yes, I like Jeeem!"
Charlie had told me then that until recently a photo of "Jeeem" had been in
the room but was recently stolen. "Not a problem I assured him, I'll be
sending you a new one." That night I slept in Room. 14, but I reasoned there was a chance JDM had slept in many of the rooms there, checking in and out many times. That night I was determined to go walk and drink where the man had done so, so many years before. First stop: The Palms. Located in the same
spot all these years, it is a narrow long bar lined with mirrors. The only
thing that has changed in all these years seems to be the bar's cliental. It
took me a drink, then another to head toward the patio out back. For perhaps
two minutes I laboured under the misconception that there was a high
percentage of women there. The while negotiating between some chairs I was
briefly harangued by a lesbian. Suddenly I realized that there was a high
percentage of women there, me being the only man. To cut to the chase, West
Hollywood is a very gay area these days. Gone are the topless bars and pool
halls of JDM's time. Now frozen yoghurt stands and tanning parlours lie in
their wake. Still I met a new friend named Vicky and we proceeded to walk
down Santa Monica to the famous Barney's Beanery.
As we walked by a small two story building near the corner of La Cienega, now Benvenuto's Cafe, I paused and lit a smoke and peered toward the former Doors office. At Barney's I told Vicky why she had found me at a dyke bar in West Hollywood.
She seemed interested that such a man's man had frequented the popular "dyke bar". I suggested the bar had only turned gay since JDM had left LA,
I joked too that many women had probably jumped the fence after JDM's untimely demise. More drinks and back to my room, I had an early flight. It was then I decided I need to go back on the thirtieth anniversary of JDM's death.
