A peek behind the Doors

Ray Manzarek still laughs about it now, remembering the painfully prophetic phone call from former Doors bandmate Robby Krieger after the guitarist read Manzarek's 1998 autobiography, Light My Fire.

"John's going to be mad," Manzarek recalled Krieger saying, anticipating drummer John Densmore wouldn't appreciate hearing that lead singer Jim Morrison wanted to kick Densmore out of the band long before they hit the big time.

Five years later, Densmore filed a lawsuit against Manzarek and Krieger, alleging their new band, the Doors of the 21st Century, was deceptive to fans and undermined business agreements made by the company that controls the original Doors name. A California judge has set a June 16 hearing and could deliver a ruling soon.

Now, nearly four decades after the Doors first hit it big, the surviving members are still fighting over the band's legacy, even as Manzarek, who plays keyboards, and Krieger kick off the new leg of a classic rock cavalcade called the Strange Days Tour, coming to Tampa on Wednesday.

And though the tour's name references the Doors' psychedelia-drenched 1967 sophomore album, it could just as well describe what has happened to the band since Morrison's death in 1971.

"(Densmore) sent a copy of my book to me burnt up," said Manzarek, who wrote that Morrison wanted to eject the drummer because he "couldn't stand him as a human being," even as the group was building a reputation in Los Angeles.

"(Densmore) used to go out and do a one man show . . . where he mocked Jim Morrison as a manic depressive," Manzarek said. "The audience laughed at Jim in a mean, vindictive and spiteful way. My retaliation was to say what Jim had to say about John. John's retaliation was to sue me."

Densmore's wife, actor-filmmaker Leslie Neale, said the drummer was traveling and could not be reached. His attorney, Jerome Mandel, said the lawsuit isn't about the demise of an old partnership, but safeguarding the legacy of the Doors' name.

The suit seeks to bar Manzarek and Krieger from using "The Doors" in any band name and asks that all profits from the Doors of the 21st Century be turned over to Densmore and the company that controls the original Doors name. That entity is owned by the surviving band members and the parents of Morrison and his partner, Pamela Courson.

To gauge the money at issue, court papers note that Manzarek and Krieger earned $5,000 to $10,000 per show performing as solo acts but had offers of $150,000 and $200,000 for the new band.

Morrison's and Courson's parents joined Densmore in the lawsuit, which the drummer has said was inspired by the new band's decision to bring on former Cult front man Ian Astbury as singer, along with advertising and merchandising that evokes the original group's logos and name.

"The Doors' name is not only an important legacy, it's a valuable commodity," said Mandel. "It's a matter of principle that was intensely litigated."

Manzarek is convinced that Morrison and Courson, now deceased, would never have supported the lawsuit.

"I saw (Morrison's father) for the first time in court," said the keyboardist, noting that the singer - a Melbourne native who briefly attended St. Petersburg Junior College and Florida State University before heading to California - had long been estranged from his parents. "The people who Jim had completely cut out of his life have sided with the drummer who Jim wanted to fire. It's a Florida soap opera."

Manzarek and I met in 1996, just after he released a two-disc audio CD telling stories about his history with Morrison and the Doors. I was the St. Petersburg Times' music critic then and suggested Manzarek might consider writing a book. Later, I helped him develop an outline, and he thanked me with a dedication in Light My Fire.

Given the success of Doors-related merchandise - including more than 50-million records sold, Danny Sugerman's bestselling 1980 book, No One Here Gets Out Alive, and Oliver Stone's 1991 biopic, The Doors - it's no wonder the band seems more popular now than in its heyday.

Disbanded in 1973 after efforts to replace Morrison failed (court papers said the surviving trio asked Joe Cocker and Paul McCartney to take the gig after their own efforts to share lead vocals failed), the surviving Doors reunited for an episode of VH1's Storytellers series in 2000 with a rotation of singers, including Astbury.

When talk turned to a more permanent reunion, Manzarek said Densmore held out, citing the effects of the hearing disorder tinnitus. Densmore's lawsuit said the new band originally hired ex-Police member Stewart Copeland as a fill-in drummer for two concerts, then announced that the group would become a regularly touring act, essentially firing him.

(Copeland would later file his own lawsuit against the new band when it replaced him; that action has been settled.)

Does it surprise Manzarek that the Doors remain embroiled in conflict?

"Yes, it does," he said. " "Grow up' is all I can say. Can we put our teenage high school grudges behind us? My God, we're all in our 60s now."

But by many accounts, the Doors of the 21st Century is a trip back in time, featuring Manzarek, Krieger, drummer Ty Dennis and bassist Angelo Barbera. With Astbury providing an eerily Morrisonesque vibe, the new band has traveled the world as Manzarek and Krieger discover what it means to be touring rockers who also qualify for senior citizen discounts.

"You have be in good shape . . . and you have to still have the desire to play the music," said Manzarek, 66. "If you like the music you've made, you'll always want to go out and play it."

Inevitably, talk turns to Morrison's death, attributed to respiratory failure and heart attack, yet shrouded in conspiracy theories because there was no autopsy or public viewing.

In the past, Manzarek blamed Morrison's decline on his turn from marijuana and hallucinogenics to liquor. Now he states the case differently.

"It was success," he said. "He was the same age (27) as Jimi Hendrix, the same age as Janis Joplin and the same age as Kurt Cobain. They couldn't make it past that hurdle into adulthood. The people worship you . . . you become godlike. And they just couldn't carry that weight without intoxication."

And to those who say the new Doors is just flogging the spirit of a long-gone group, Manzarek offers hearty laughter. He's enjoying the latest act of a band many thought had played its last note more than 30 years ago.

"Jim Morrison was . . . a great young American poet working in the genre of rock 'n' roll," Manzarek said. "And what does a poet want more than anything? For his words to be read . . . for his words to live in live performance. He would probably say, "Let them know my words, rather than my antics.'

The Travails of Single South Indian men of conservative upbringing

This article was found on a Bschool student board....

Yet another action packed weekend in Mumbai, full of fun, frolic and
introspection.I have learnt many things. For example having money when none of your friends have any is as good as not having any. And after
spending much time in movie theatres, cafes and restaurants I have
gathered many insights into the endless monotony that is the love life
of south Indian men.

What I have unearthed is most disheartening.Disheartening because comprehension of these truths will not change our status anytime soon.However there is also cause for joy. We never stood a chance anyway. What loads the dice against virile, gallant, well educated, good looking, sincere mallus and tams? (Kadus were once among
us, but Bangalore has changed all that.)

Our futures are shot to hell as soon as our parents bestow upon us names that are anything but alluring. I cannot imagine a more foolproof way of making sure the child remains single till classified advertisements or that maternal uncle in San Francisco thinks otherwise. Name him "Parthasarathy Venkatachalapthy" and his inherent capability to combat celibacy is obliterated before he could even talk. He will grow to be known as Partha. Before he knows, his smart,seductively named northy classmates start calling him Paratha. No woman in their right minds will go anyway near poor Parthasarathy.

His investment banking job doesn't help either.His employer loves him though.He has no personal life you see.By this time the Sanjay Singhs and Bobby Khans from his class have small businesses of their own and spend 60% of their lives in discos n
pubs.The remaining 40% is spent coochicooing with leather and denim clad muses in their penthouse flats on Nepean Sea Road. Business is safely in the hands of the Mallu manager.After all with a name like Blossom Babykutty he cant use his 30000 salary anywhere.Blossom gave up on society when in school they automatically enrolled him for Cookery Classes.

Along with all the girls.Yes my dear reader, nomenclature is the first nail in a coffin of neglect and hormonal pandemonium. In a kinder world they would just name the poor southern male child and throw him off the balcony."Yes appa we have named him Goundamani..." THUD.

Life would have been less kinder to him anyway.If all the women the Upadhyays, Kumars, Pintos and, god forbid,the Sens and Roys in the world have met were distributed amongst the Arunkumars,Vadukuts and Chandramogans we would all be merry casanovas with 3 to 4 pretty things at each arm.But alas it is not to be. Ofcourse the south Indian women have no such issues.They have names which are like sweet poetry to the ravenous northie hormone tanks.

Picture this: "Welcome,and this is my family. This is my daughter Poorni (what a sweet name!!)and my son Ponnalagusamy (er.. hello..).." Cyanide would not be fast
enough for poor Samy. Nothing Samy does will help him. He can pump iron,drive fast cars and wear snazzy clothes, but against a braindead dude called Arjun Singhania he has as much chance of getting any as a Benedictine Monk in a Saharan Seminary.

Couple this with the other failures that have plagued our existence. Any
attempt at spiking hair with gel fails miserably. In an hour I have a crown of greasy, smelly fibrous mush. My night ends there. However the northy just has to scream "Wakaw!!!" and you have to peel the women off him to let him breathe. In a disco while we can manage the medium hip shake with neck curls, once the Bhangra starts pumping we are as fluid as cement and gravel in a mixer. Karan Kapoor or Jatin Thapar in the low cut jeans with chaddi strap showing and see through shirt throws his elbows perfectly, the cynosure of all attention.

The women love a man who digs pasta and fondue.But why do they not see the simple pleasures of curd rice and coconut chutney? When poor Senthilnathan opens his tiffin box in the office lunch room his female coworkers just dissappear when they see the
tamarind rice and poppadums. The have all rematerialised around Bobby Singh who has ordered in Pizza and Garlic bread. (And they have the gall to talk of foreign origin.)

How can a man like me brought up in roomy lungis and oversized polyester shirts ever walk the walk in painted on jeans (that makes a big impression) and neon yellow rib hugging t shirts? All I can do is don my worn "comfort fit" jeans and floral shirt. Which is pretty low on the "Look at me lady" scale, just above fig leaf skirt and feather headgear a la caveman, and a mite below Khakhi Shirt over a red tee shirt and baggy khakhi pants and white trainers a la Rajni in "Badsha".

Sociologically too the tam or mallu man is severely sidelined. An average tam stud stays in a house with, on average, three grandparents,three sets of uncles and aunts, and over 10 children. Not the ideal atmosphere for some intimacy and some full throated "WHOSE YOUR DADDY!!!" at the 3 in the morning. The mallu guy of course is almost always in the gulf working alone on some onshore oil rig in the desert.
Rheumatic elbows me thinks.

Alas dear friends we are not just meant to set the nights on fire. We are just not built to be "The Ladies Man". The black man has hip hop,the white man has rock, the southie guy only has idlis and tomato rasam or an NRI account in South Indian Bank Ernakulam Branch. Alas as our destiny was determined in one fell swoop by our nomenclature, so will our future be. A nice arranged little love story.

But the agony of course does not end there. On the first night, as the stud sits on his bed finally within touching distance and whispers his sweet desires into her delectable ear, she blushes, turns around and whispers back
"But amma has said only on second saturdays!"

Food for thought..fodder for timepass

Got this in a fwded email.Found it interesting..Don't know how far it is true.

TRADITIONAL ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies and the economy grows.
You retire on the income.

WIPRO ECONOMICS
You have 2 cows.
Feed them as long as they milk.
For less milking cow feed less.
Throw the non milking cow away.

INFOSYS ECONOMICS
You have 2 cows
You put both of them on the bench
And hire another to do the job.

TCS ECONOMICS
You have 2 cows
You tell them that only one will go to onsite.
You ask both of them to fight for the only H1B Visa.
Both of them die after fighting.

HCL ECONOMICS
You have 2 cows
You milk them only for 24 hours on just 7 days a week.
They run away.

CTS Economics
You have 2 cows
You train them for two months on how to milk themselves.
Then u ask them to pull bullock carts.

SATYAM ECONOMICS
You have 2 cows.
One is intelligent one is dumb.
you send the dumb cow onsite
making the intelligent cow frustated.
Intelligent cow resigns out of frustration
and dumb cow is laid off by the client."

2 do before i die

I bought a book a few weeks ago "2 do before I die"..a cute little book that essentially strives to point to people what they ought to know themselves...things you wanna do before you die.

The way it works is simple, just put down a list of stuff you wanna do before you die! However trivial or impossible it may be . Just write it down. A lot of the things we wanna do don’t seem all that impossible once we write it down and confront it.

Read between the lines of the various stories people have written you’ll find what comes through in each and every one of those stories is that it just doesn't pay to be stressed out and in conflict all the time. The book which is chock full of stories and lists implores us all to work together to bring out the best in us and others...

In short, what I call...a celebration of life.

Life is a sweet thing.. you can do fun little things and you can do fun big things...you can screw up a 1lac PC (aw crap you say? well its still a device and can be repaired. so if you screwed it up, so what? just be careful the next time around) or you can repair a cheap roller-ball computer mouse. you can eyeball a supermodel or you can go and marry the homely girl-next door type..you can treat the entire apartment block to your best dessert...or you can make your friend treat you to the best Movenpick icecream there is.

It is about appreciating the beauty in the dew drop on the leaf of a plant in your front yard. It is in taking a hike up the mountain trail to view the glorious sunset that graces the eastern skies. Holding hands walking by the beach!

Life comes at you with dazzling variety of things to do and see and appreciate and learn from. That usually does not include the amusement parks or cinema halls but it sure can include that drive down the ECR to see nature at its very best.

Life is for all of us to share and enjoy...it is in having a few friends over for a drink, dinner and talk..it is in having the same group of friends go over to a restaurant and become the boisterous center of racket (and by extension center of attention as well :) )

There is more to life than carrying along petty differences and egos. It is not worth your while or my while for us to hold grudges against each other. More importantly it is always worth your while to smile, pass a compliment or just say something nice and make someone's day.

Let us make this world an easier place to be in...one person at a time.