" Today and every day since Rich’s death, small charred stick-figure drawings, some of them small as cocktail napkins and paper plates, along with a motley collection of cigars, vitamin C tablets and motocross patches line the alley outside the Asp Club. Go there at sunset and inevitably a crowd will have formed… lighting candles and laying flowers around a makeshift memorial of trash aligned to spell "Adam." More of the tragic "imposture">>