Last night I spoke to my dead friend Dominic. Before you ask what cell phone I got let me say he’s alright… well let's just say he's still with us. He thought it was amazing that this rumor frenzy occurred and that people, so many people, cared so much. Just for the record, I had four sources on the story. One guy claimed he was with him when a crack dealer shot him multiple times in West Palm Beach. Another source was arranging services. Another independent claimed the family knew, but was keeping it low because of the brutal nature of the demise, and still another on the West Coast heard it 'from someone close.'  Calls by intimates to Dominic’s mother were abruptly ended with no explanation, fueling the rumor. Finally somebody’s mom called his mom and got the same biz. I’m not making excuses, but it seemed real to a lot of us last night.

I told Dominic how much love poured in, of Paper writing and of course my writing. He had the rare opportunity to read an obit before he passed. I’m glad I’ve got some egg on my face. I'd take a zillion eggs for a moment with someone who has gone. We’re all calling Dom now, supporting him, and he's coming to NY in a week so we will all hang and not have a drink to his health. I’m gonna kick his ass if I have to. Sure, I’ll need some back but I’ve got it.  A lot of us are seeing this as a second chance, hell it’s like a 7th chance, and we’re gonna work harder to make him whole. A dear friend of his wants that 300 bucks he lent him and is determined to get it back and I promise… that’s that.

Goodnight,

Mr. Lewis