I saw this obit at one of our favorite stomping grounds, Out of the Gutter, and immediately had that deadening sickness in my chest that comes when a friend has passed. I’m sending this e-mail (and posting online soon) with hopes you respond and just say it’s a joke, another Mike with the same name, or anything amigo.
But it isn’t coming, is it? I raise a beer and many more, sir.
I remember when we were assembling BEAT to a PULP: ROUND ONE and there was no doubt we wanted “The All-Weather Phantom” as one of our stories in the batch. And, when you and I signed on to write/interview for OOTG, I remember our back and forth e-mails on what we would pen, your real-life adventures and the folks you met in your life that would give Hemingway or London a run for their money. I hope to hell it has been written down somewhere. Our letters only offer a peek into a life lived to the fullest.
I wish we had met and had a drink and I wish I would have an honor to publish another one of your terrific short stories. But I was honored to do it twice.
*Mike's family kindly wrote back and mentioned that the last song he downloaded was Levon Helm singing "When I Go Away." It's now a favorite of mine as well.