My first photo of RuPaul. Not knowing her name at the time (I soon would!), I entitled the photo, "The South Shall Rise Again". In reality, this began the final descent into madness for all of us. It was a long descent to be sure; we all had another seven years of bath-tub-gin fun before the Michael Alig murder case bubbled to the surface and nightlife sank like The Titanic. I left New York just as everything was coming down (sort of like Lady Duff Gordon, getting into the first lifeboat) and moved to the island of Cozumel for six months to dry out and plot another strategy. It wasn't as if Cozumel was a dry island, but it afforded me the time and space to realize that Miami was the place to be, and here I am.