The Doors of Perception
BY JENNIFER JEAN My father leapt on stage at the Hollywood Bowlto grab drum and cymbal sticksfrom a star—he wanted to bea star, a door, a Door. White. Securitythugs dragged him offJohn Densmore. He saw doors everywhere, he saw Doorseverywhere—at the Whisky,the Beanery, the Magic Mountain fest—andin primary colorsin Windward, Oakwood, or North of Rose.
