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It’s true. Jim Morrison, who so many loyal fans thought had perished of a drug overdose some 34 years ago, apparently faked his own death. You heard us right—in what amounts to perhaps the most anticipated announcement in a generation, what follows is a piece of investigative journalism that is unrivaled in its depth, scope and focus. After decades of frustrating dead ends, bad leads and cold case files, LAist proudly presents to you, our loyal readers, the distinguished Cheri Woods, a former actress, former madam and, uh, former inmate. But we urge you to disregard her checkered past and take a good, long look at her story in the Los Angeles Independent. We know you’ll thank us…(thought-provoking excerpt below)
“Jim Morrison really is alive. He is living with his girlfriend in the middle of nowhere. He still smokes pot and drinks beer. The last time I talked to him, he told me he wanted to meet Billy Idol and that he liked the way Val Kilmer portrayed him in the film 'The Doors.'”
Still skeptical? LAist was pessimistic too. But after investigating Miss Woods’ impeccable credentials and closely examining her unimpeachable story, all we can say is shame on you, loyal readers. Cheri’s got the goods…after all, she speaks with him regularly by phone. How many of you do that? Since Jim is probably still a very private guy, LAist totally understands why Cheri doesn’t go into great detail about their personal conversations, but it’s nice to know that the old guy still enjoys a good toke now and then.
What’s that? You’re still not willing to take a leap of faith on this one? LAist confesses that we once shared those feelings too. But then we read what will heretofore be referred to as “the clincher”, because it represents clear, concise and incontrovertible evidence that our favorite 60’s icon burnout lives on to this very day…
It seems Miss Woods and an English production company carried out a séance at the apartment last fall, and while Jim was rudely absent from his own celebration, one of the well-respected psychics present at the gathering was smart enough to ask his spirit if he had a dog.
Lo and behold, the sound of a dog barking outside pierced the air and sent the meeting into a tither. Those psychics, love ‘em or hate ‘em, you have to respect their ability to ask probing, deep and personal questions that cut right to the heart of the matter. Thank God for those fortuitous actions that day, or LAist and countless Doors fans worldwide would remain under the mistaken impression that their hero was in fact a mere mortal.
So the next time you dust off the old album of “L.A. Woman,” take a deep drag on that “cigarette” and thank LAist for restoring your faith in modern man. Jim lives!
