Visiting Doors

I was laying in bed, considering whether or not to go to work, when I heard the popping and crackling sounds that accompany one of my spontaneous time travel trips. My bedroom vanished into a blend of florescent clouds and miles of sun colored roots.

I landed hard onto a floor. I looked around and saw that I was in a recording studio. There was a band in the midst of a jam. It was the Doors. They were performing Riders on the Storm. I think it's a good song. But I've never listened to it all the way through. I'm kind of that way with all Doors songs. It's pretty rare that anything in life is good and interesting.

The band noticed me. They kept playing. I think it's the drugs. They thought I was part of their trip.

When the Doors finished, the guitarist Robby Krieger, came over to talk with me.

Robby said, "Hey, man, who are you?"

I said, "I'm Brooks. I'm from the future."

Robby said, "Groovy! What happens?"

I said, "Lots of things. Kind of like lots of things are happening now."

Robby said, "I can dig that. Ah, hey, what happens to my band?"

I said, "This is your last album because your singer is gonna die."

Robby looked troubled. He went over to Jim Morrison, the lead singer, and whispered something to him. Jim looked over at me. I nodded.

Jim said, "Great!"

This was 1970. I remembered that back then I was nine. I was a candy addict and was always in a sugar haze. Everyone was drunk on something. My friend Dale used to drink so much Tang that he'd slur his words. His parents never noticed because they were high on beer. This leveled the playing field. When everyone's buzzed, no one's buzzed.