flatblack

Mike Blake died last night. While I was still nursing my hangover from the previous night's Flametrick Subs show, he hung himself in his closet.

All of my fun old punk rock friends who could never quite get their shit together are slipping away. Overdoses, DWI and suicide has left me with just a very few of those rowdy boys and girls who wouldn't grow up. The little yougsters who are still caught up in the novelty of being able to get into bars don't know what is missing from the scene and don't belive what is in store for so many of them.

Mike was the only one of my friends who I always greeted with a hug. He was just that kind of guy. How could someone so popular and universally well liked would feell that he had to come to a decision like that. He had been through a divorce recently and had significant debt from a failed attempt to open his own bar, and had a drinking problem, but he always seemed so happy when I talked to him. I guess his heart was just too big to let his true feelings show and bring anyone else around him down.

For those of you who never had the pleasure of his company, you have my sympathy. I'm gratefull to have known him and while I disagree with the decision he made and don't understand it, I ultimately have to respect it.