Manuel López

Morrison had an almost un-American attitude toward possessions. He never owned a house. While he owned a car for a time, he was often without one and most of the things he did own would have fit into a carryall bag. In his pockets one could find a key to the Doors’ office, a credit card, and his folded and torn California driver’s license. He was forever giving something away—money, books, clothes—with a natural generosity. No matter how successful he became, Morrison was always taking shelter from the “stumbling neon groves” of Hollywood in cheap motels because he felt their starkness was more real than the lavish suites his wealth could have commanded. No doubt their low profile was also an attraction. No one could find Jim Morrison when he didn’t want to be found. He enjoyed hanging around pool halls and cheap bars, listening to the jukebox and having a few beers.

Frank Lisciandro recalls: Jim didn’t seem to have any sense of ownership about anything. As an example, I said to him one day that I had to go buy some new boots; he said he probably needed some new boots too and he’d come along. So we went to a Western-wear store and both shopped for what we needed. Later I found Jim coming out of a dressing room. He had bought a completely new outfit right down to underwear and then he went over and bought a new pair of boots. It looked like he had changed his skin. And being more reptilian, he left his old clothes behind… didn’t take them… said to the guy at the store, ‘Burn ’em or throw ’em away or give ’em to somebody.’ We walked outside and I looked at him in the sunlight in front of the store and I realized at that instant that he could really live like a snake if he wanted to… shed his skin, have a new set of skin underneath, and walk away.

Text from “Break on Through: The Life and Death of Jim Morrison” by James Riordan & Jerry Prochnicky
Foto: Elektra Records – eBay item photo front photo back