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Dear Jim,

I’ve always thought of you as the patron saint of the mojo -- and the patron saint of my mojo in particular – since I was a little girl.

As you already know, just a few days after you passed away in the tub in Paris, I was born in a hospital far away in Pennsylvania, and I’ve imagined that we had some kind of cosmic connection ever since.

[caption id="attachment_3306" align="alignright" width="237" caption="Jim Morisson - my mojo daddy"][/caption]

(To be honest, when I stood in front of your grave at Père Lachaise Cemetery, I kinda thought you’d affirm this by sending me a sign or something. But, I get it…you were probably doing some Lizard King stuff that day…you’re a busy guy. It’s cool.)

Anyway, I’m checking in with you today because I have a problem...I think I lost my mojo.

(And, if you’re really a part of me, then that means I actually lost OUR mojo, which is a pretty serious problem.)

I think social media maybe sucked the mojo out of me, Jim.

I was rolling along just fine, and then I got super swamped and now whenever I look at it all, it just exhausts me.

• I have no interest in kissing up to famous people and maintaining my social capital. I just want to talk about interesting things with interesting people.

• I have no energy for self-promotion, I just want to do the work and keep my clients happy and turn down the volume on the shill.

• I have no patience for douchebaggery, I just want things to work out like karma intends – good people who work hard and produce great work will have good things come their way.

  [caption id="attachment_3307" align="alignright" width="212" caption="Me, at five...shades of mojo?"][/caption]

(I know Jim; you totally spit your whiskey all over the floor on that last one. That one is naïve -- I may be mopey here, but I’m not stupid.)

I’m no rock star, but I’m a little like you in that I’d rather burn out than fade away. Life’s too short to just like it – I want to love the hell out of it. But I need to get my passion, moxie and sass back to make that happen, and I’ll be damned if I know where I left ‘em.

Social media is a little like a stage that’s prepped, lit and cocooned in the hum of an eager crowd, 24/7 (you would totally have loved it, Jim).

It’s always show time, but you need mojo to jump on that stage every day and work the hell out of it (I know leather pants and lots of drugs helped you with that too…I’m afraid I'm gonna have to pass on that part though, but thanks for the offer.)

So, I’m reaching out through the digital daydream that is the Internet and calling out to the ghost in the machine on a virtual vision quest today.

Help me get my mojo back, Jim. I like social media, but I'd like to love it again. I just need a little push to help me break on through. I just need a little boost to get back up and ride the snake.

Thanks, Jim. Keep a cocktail on ice for me. I'll see you when the music's over.