I don’t precisely know what all this means, but I believe it means something. I remember that time I wrote in my journal when I was frustrated about something and I wondered if I was trying to kick down the door to a room with no walls.
The first album from The Doors, which included the song “Light My Fire” released, according to the linked article, on a day that was 50 days after the return of Gemini 12 from orbit of the Earth. I have written that I think I was actually on the Gemini 12 flight. I think the reason for the 50 days may be because I was born in Hawaii, which is the 50th state. Or so I assume that is what it all means. I really don’t know. One possible clue is that in my artificial life, my first assignment to the U.S. Navy fleet was a ship with the hull number 50.
"Light My Fire" is a song performed by The Doors on their self-titled first album, which was recorded in September of 1966, and released in January of 1967. It peaked at number one on the Billboard Pop Singles chart in 1967, then was re-released in 1968, peaking at number 87. The song was written by Robby Krieger (music/lyrics) and Jim Morrison (lyrics); although writing credit is occasionally given to "The Doors".
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John Densmore recalls [2] that when Buick wanted to buy the piece for use in a 1967 TV commercial ("Come on, Buick, light my fire" [3]) and Morrison, who had been out of town, learned that other group members agreed, Morrison called Buick and threatened to have a Buick smashed with a sledgehammer on a TV show should the (presumably ready) commercial be aired.
This article referenced below released to the internet on 6/20/2002. I calculate that date to be 3.59 months after my 3/3/2002 birthday. The date 7/8/2002 was 3 years, 30 weeks, 3 days, after 12/7/98, the day I started at Microsoft. I moved out here in 1998 to work for Microsoft after a Microsoft employee suggested that I come to work for the company. Apparently I had been given an artificial identity some time before that. When I moved out here, I brought with me an old Buick. I can’t remember the model; it was either a Regal or a Century and it was burgundy. It looked like someone smoked in it a lot because the fabric on the driver door had a lot of burns in it. The car was also pretty banged up. I “remember” buying it for 600 dollars in Rock Hill, SC.
review posted June 20, 2002 (July 8, 2002 issue)
Riders on the Storm
John Densmore
Dread ripples through me as I listen to a phone message from our manager saying that we (The Doors) have another offer of huge amounts of money if we would just allow one of our songs to be used as the background for a commercial. They don't give up! I guess it's hard to imagine that everybody doesn't have a price. Maybe 'cause, as the cement heads try to pave the entire world, they're paving their inner world as well. No imagination left upstairs.
Apple Computer called on a Tuesday--they already had the audacity to spend money to cut "When the Music's Over" into an ad for their new cube computer software. They want to air it the next weekend, and will give us a million and a half dollars! A MILLION AND A HALF DOLLARS! Apple is a pretty hip company...we use computers.... Dammit! Why did Jim (Morrison) have to have such integrity?
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It all started in 1967, when Buick proffered $75,000 to use "Light My Fire" to hawk its new hot little offering--the Opel. As the story goes--which everyone knows who's read my autobiography or seen Oliver Stone's movie--Ray, Robby and John (that's me) OK'd it, while Jim was out of town. He came back and went nuts. And it wasn't even his song (Robby primarily having penned "LMF")! In retrospect, his calling up Buick and saying that if they aired the ad, he'd smash an Opel on television with a sledgehammer was fantastic! I guess that's one of the reasons I miss the guy.
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During the Oliver Stone film on our band, the record royalties tripled, and as I wrote those 10 percent checks, my hand was shaking. Why? It only meant that I was making much more for myself. It was the hand of greed. I am reminded of the sound of greed, trying to talk me into not vetoing a Doors song for a cigarette ad in Japan.
"It's the only way to get a hit over there, John. They love commercials. It's the new thing!"
"What about encouraging kids to smoke, Ray?"
"You always have to be PC, don't you, John?" I stuck to my guns and vetoed the offer, thinking about the karma if we did it. Manzarek has recently been battling stomach ulcers. So muster up courage, you capitalists; hoarding hurts the system--inner as well as outer.
So it's been a lonely road resisting the chants of the rising solicitations: "Everybody has a price, don't they?" Every time we (or I) resist, they up the ante. An Internet company recently offered three mil for "Break on Through." Jim's "pal" (as he portrays himself in his bio) said yes, and Robby joined me in a resounding no! "We'll give them another half mil, and throw in a computer!" the prez of Apple pleaded late one night.
Robby stepped up to the plate again the other day, and I was very pleased that he's been a longtime friend. I was trying to get through to our ivory tinkler, with the rap that playing Robin Hood is fun, but the "bottom line" is that our songs have a higher purpose, like keeping the integrity of their original meaning for our fans. "Many kids have said to me that 'Light My Fire,' for example, was playing when they first made love, or were fighting in Nam, or got high--pivotal moments in their lives." Robby jumped in. "If we're only one of two or three groups who don't do commercials, that will help the value of our songs in the long run. The publishing will suffer a little, but we should be proud of our stance." Then Robby hit a home run. "When I heard from one fan that our songs saved him from committing suicide, I realized, that's it--we can't sell off these songs."
So, in the spirit of the Bob Dylan line, "Money doesn't talk, it swears," we have been manipulated, begged, extorted and bribed to make a pact with the devil. While I was writing this article, Toyota Holland went over the line and did it for us. They took the opening melodic lines of "Light My Fire" to sell their cars. We've called up attorneys in the Netherlands to chase them down, but in the meantime, folks in Amsterdam think we sold out. Jim loved Amsterdam.
According to my passport, Microsoft sent me to Amsterdam on 1/23/2003.
This is curious about the space shuttle flight STS-71. I followed a hunch and looked to see if there were any clues about Jim Morrison's death. Another detail that caught my eye is that the flight STS-71 launched 6/27/95, which I think is the one year anniversary of when I think I survived the crash of "Stargazer" L-1011 aircraft as we were trying to launch into space a rocket that was attached to the aircraft.
As for Jim Morrison, he was alive for 10069 days. The number of days from his death to the launch of STS-71 was 8760. The difference of 10069 and 8760 is 1309. From 3/3/59, the date 10/2/62 works out to 1309 days. That period can also be expressed as 3 years, 213 days. The period 3 years, 215.35 days, would be 3.59 years.
That number 1309 is also precisely the number of days from when I started at Microsoft to 7/8/2002, the date of that article written by John Densmore of The Doors where he talks about not selling out the image of the band.
