On March 1, 1969, Jim Morrison exposed himself to 13,000 people during a concert in Miami. The band left the country the next day on a planned vacation, but Morrison turned himself in to the FBI in Los Angeles upon his return. The press had a field day prior to his arrest while he was out of the country. Rolling Stone magazine put Jim's face on its cover as part of a wanted poster, while the stories more or less portrayed him as a drunken fool. I believed that while he may have been that, he also possessed an intelligence that had been overlooked (Hopkins, p.217).
In 1970, a jury found Jim guilty of indecent exposure and profanity, but innocent on a felony count of lewd and lascivious behavior, and a misdemeanor charge of drunkenness. Jim Morrison was freed on appeal.
Consider how Jim's life might have turned out if a judge, given his record, had ordered him to undertake individual psychotherapy for alcohol and drug abuse while he was on probation (Faris and Faris, p.168). Though there is little reason to believe that he would have sought such help, Riordan and Prochnicky report that Jim, on the urging of Pamela Courson's father, once had a few sessions with a psychiatrist (Riordan and Prochnicky, p172). However, he played games with the psychiatrist, plying him with a stream of intellectual and philosophical gibberish, and then ending the sessions abruptly when he became bored (Faris and Faris, p.168). .
Imagine then, a reluctant Jim Morrison walks in my office, ordered by a judge to undertake psychotherapy, a common experience these days. Jim reacts to psychotherapy with distain and scorn, but he aches deep in his porous self-core and harbors a vague, unconscious hope that something or someone might pull him up from the void (Faris and Faris, p.169).
The time is November, 1970. Following Jimi Hendricks by two weeks, Janis Joplin had died of complications following an injection of heroin (Faris and Faris, p.
