I’ve never read Riders on the Storm by John Densmore.
As I wait for the public library to open so I can get a book on The Doors I sit on a wooden bench in the warm sun and look at the scene in front of me on Schenley Plaza and scribble in my notebook.
People mill about on the green grass and sit at small tables on the pavement around the green grass of the plaza. They talk in small groups some taking photos of graduates in caps and gowns while others eat sushi and Chinese food or food from the Middle East. The plaza is in the middle of the campus of the University of Pittsburgh. White and yellow flowers grow up out of flower beds and the shrubs all around are green but the trees are bare.
I walked down from Carnegie Mellon University singing the music of The Doors low to myself and recited bits of Jim Morrison’s poetry in preparation for karaoke as performance art at Nico’s in Little Italy Saturday night before I came to this wooden bench in Schenley Plaza.
On my way to the bench I saw chalk writing and drawings of different colors on the sidewalks around the library and I asked a young woman who was working on the sidewalk what it was all about. It was about a family event at the library but when she saw I was alone she assured me that anyone could register for the event. She was very nice and seemed pleased that I was interested in what she was doing. The family event explained all the children in the plaza.
The library opens at noon so now I’ll check out a book on The Doors.
I checked out Riders on the Storm by John Densmore and sat on the same wooden bench in the plaza and read the first chapter as I sat in the warm sunshine. I closed Riders on the Storm and looked around at all the people and took a deep breath and stood up and took Riders on the Storm home with me.
This is the Old Soldier reporting for the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction, an online magazine of erotica and The Doors.