Miker flew into Baltimore more than once in the past few
years, and on two occasions I had the privilege of breaking
bread with him, once on my birthday when I chose to escape
from a family get-together to talk books.
We talked nothing but rara-avis and its subjects, except for
the time we went to Fells Point, a tourist attraction and
somewhat of a Right of Passage for local as well as
out-of-state college students.
I remember that time particularly, because we had a beer in
three different bars while he looked for a gift T-shirt for
his then and perhaps still, teen-age daughter.
I think the first time I saw him, he was relatively new at
hard boiled and noir but had already become an aficionado and
went on to learn more about it than I ever knew.
I'm having a Hillery Clinton moment here--tearing up just a
little--
It's hard to believe.
I wish his family well, and for Miker...God's Speed, you will
be missed.
As to his name, "Miker." He told me it was to differentiate
him from all the "Mikes" in the world.
Jack Bludis
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This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : 12 Jan 2008 EST