Thirteen years ago today, NYC police broke down the door of John McGlinn's apartment at 200 East 72nd Street to remove his body. I owe much of whatever career I've had to John - and to BK - and there isn't a day that passes that I don't think of McGlinn, whose story remains a lesson in the foolishness of believing your own press.
Some days I miss the friendship and the collaboration. On other days I want to dig up his body and kick his ass.