At least the photograph was a gift. The Times had used a copy of my mug shot from 1988, the one taken after I had been held in Terminal Island Federal Prison for three days without a shower, a shave, or a change of clothes—my hair a mess, me looking grubby and unkempt and like some homeless street person. The guy staring back at me from the front page of the newspaper was puffy-faced, weighing maybe ninety or a hundred pounds more than I did on that July Fourth.