Last weekend, Jim Morrison went missing.
I should elaborate. Or maybe I shouldn’t, because that’s not a sentence you’d expect to read regarding a man who broke on through to the other side half a century ago. But I won’t leave you hanging.
Saturday night, fresh off our adventure buying a new Mazda, we were playing cards, listening to records, and imbibing in adult beverages. Our usual routine. We were on a classic rock kick–Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Yardbirds–and jonesing for The Doors next. Only when we went to grab their Greatest Hits album, it wasn’t there.
“Do you think someone broke into the house and stole this record to mess with us?” Tara asked. I couldn’t tell if she was serious-serious or fourth-High-Noon-serious, but assumed the latter, because…come on! That can only be described as hard seltzer logic.
There were two other records by The Doors (LA Woman and Morrison Hotel), exactly where they were supposed to be. We file all our vinyl alphabetically, because when your collection exceeds 900 albums, any other method would be madness. But The Doors Greatest Hits was nowhere to be found. Occasionally, we’ll mis-file something a few slots down, but this one was nowhere to be found. I searched every record from B to F, and even checked under T (because: The Doors–unlikely, but you never know!), but no such luck. That album, which had been a part of our collection for 20 years, was AWOL. I picked Dire Straits instead, since I was already in the Ds.
Honestly, a better choice anyway. I love me some Mark Knopfler.
But the mystery of Jim’s disappearance lingered. It was actually really bugging me, because how can you lose a record you’ve had for 20 years? It didn’t just get up and walk out of the house! Although by now, I was willing to believe anything was possible. Even Tara’s sticky-fingered neighbor theory (though I personally thought a glitch in The Matrix was the more likely explanation).
Still, I vowed to get to the bottom of the missing Morrison mystery, come hell or high water. Which meant going through every single album, one by one, until I found the elusive singer-songwriter/poet/counterculture icon. Time-consuming? You betcha. But finally, my detective work paid off.

Tara’s got a point, by the way. It’s a wonder our record collection isn’t a random, jumbled mess. We do enjoy our Saturday nights!
God of my Want, Lord of my Need
One thing that surprised me while searching for the missing Doors frontman was the number of Neil Diamond records we own. Tara’s a big fan, I’ve always known that, but I didn’t realize we had nine different ND albums. Half of them are greatest hits compilations (Classics, Gold, Greatest Hits Volume I, Greatest Hits Volume II, 12 Greatest Hits) that all feature some combination of the same 15-20 songs, the only difference being the exact selection and order. Geez Louise, we can listen to “Cherry, Cherry” on half a dozen albums. Great song, but isn’t that a bit of overkill?
No shade on the Neilster, of course. Both Tara and my mom would kill me if I dissed him. And frankly, while he’s no Springsteen, I like ol’ Neil just fine. Say what you will, but the man knows how to craft a catchy-ass pop song. We just watched Song Sung Blue, the biographical musical drama about real-life Milwaukee couple Lightning & Thunder, a husband and wife duo whose Neil Diamond tribute act gained a cult-like following in the Badger State and surrounding region during the ’90s and early 2000s. They even attracted the attention of Pearl Jam at the height of the grunge band’s popularity, joining Eddie Vedder onstage for a rollicking performance of “Forever in Blue Jeans” during PJ’s 1995 Summerfest performance.

First off: Kate Hudson nailed the Wisconsin accent (as did James Belushi, in a supporting role). And Hugh Jackman uglied up well. The movie is an emotional roller coaster, veering from joyous to sad and back again, and then back again, but the one constant is the music: it’s bouncy and upbeat, or mellow and introspective, but always irresistible. I had “Soolaimon” rattling around my brain for two days straight after, and that’s no small feat.
Highly recommended, even if you’re only a casual fan of Mr. Diamond.
Are you a fan of The Doors? How about Neil Diamond? What’s your favorite song from either?




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