My sweet Joe, my "Gutter Twin," I miss you every single day.

I never knew how sick you were, because we had been so long out of touch, each of us more immersed with our then-current lives and health issues, among other things. And so, Joe, I never knew of your cancer, nor you of mine.

I am going to visit here again or someplace, Joe, to give you the kind of written tribute you deserve, the kind for which I used to be paid as a music journalist before you joined my band and moved right into my heart.

And also, Joe, please tell Mae Mae her adopted son, your "Gutter Twin," will probably not be too long before joining you. So put a cold one in the icebox, and a pack of Marlboros on the table for me, Joe, and a great big bag for us to share, for when I join you at the place where our drugs will no longer be able to kill us.