Twenty years ago I called Hauoi from Singapore. He had been sick for a long time and told me of his plans.
"I'm going to get drugged up and OD watching THE SIMPSONS."
"Sounds good to me." Suicide was one course left to him.
I loved Bart, but I asked if he could wait until I was with him.
"How long?"
"Three weeks."
"Sorry, I'll be gone."
"I understand."
We had seen too many friends fade under the waste.
"I'll leave you my Paul Smith suit."
"The one that looks like it belonged to a carnival barker."
"You know the one."
Only too well.
To this day I take that suit out in public.
Surprised that I could fit into it.
Mssr. Montauk wasn't my size, but he was my friend. He knew what was what. And that suit was it.
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