2018 Update

I was walking around with December 4th in my brain ... and when I woke up this morning, it was like "oh shit it was the 2nd."  2nd, 3rd, 4th ... whatever: I'm here old man.

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
Yesterday is a promise that you've broken
Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes
This is your life and today is all you've got now
Yeah, and today is all you'll ever have
Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes

Gotta tell you first off, you're so fucking lucky (OK, it's all a matter of perspective as you laugh and call my shit), not to be around to see what's become of this fucking country.  Those McCain signs you ran over -- yeah, he's the liberal we all wish we still had in the Republican party.  I'm not even going to use the T word, only to say, that there are flesh dripping Zombi Nazis everywhere we turn, and we are so flirting with totalitarianism it's 100% no shit flat out literally in the truest sense of the word: frightening.

So there's that.

And you would be so incredibly proud of your Stephanie: she is a relentless, take no prisoners, unabashed liberal who wears her heart on her sleave daily, literally.  The modern day equivalent of that is Facebook, Instagram, etc.  Her feed is read by many, and the coolest thing is an occasional person who relates that they actually get their news from her feed, or have had their thinking changed based on her posts, which, of course, are based on logic and love.  What could be better, or possibly more powerful?

For my part I'm doing some of the same ... ie, there was this. (Oops darn 100 mb limit.)

And this Facebook video post:

And then this video creation posted to FB Feb 5:

I wish I could post that here instead of that image but blogspot imposes a 100 mb file limit, so apologies because this one takes the American people to task but head on over to FB to view the vid.  This was when I realized that we are headed for the gas chambers, and yeah, I really mean that without hyperbole.

You'd love to know that Janet and Les see each other regularly and we all speak as often as circumstance and the world allow.  Suzy and I will be travelling to Grand Cayman over the Christmas holiday to spend time with "Aunt Janet" in her beautiful condo on the water.  Quality time, as you used to call it.

So yeah old man, you're the lucky one tonight!  And as we wear it on the sleeve, and keep the world honest, we send a nod in your direction and send you thanks for teaching us all the lessons you did, whether they were about throwing strikes, or speaking truth to power, you taught us so well, mostly through example.

We love you, and will never forget you.  You have always been, and remain, the fiber of our being.

--Pistol

Bard Meets Jeff

As those who might be reading this likely know, Stephanie Ann Lindeman will be married to Jeff Cox at the beautiful Airle Gardens on June 2nd of 2018.  Stephanie found Jeff after Dad had left this crazy planet, but below is how he still managed the opportunity to meet him, and put his precious "Steph" at ease!

This is the story, as told by Steph:

Jeff and I were at a wedding and were sitting in the last row of white chairs on the outskirt of the dance floor. There was golden light streaming in from the wall of windows behind us; it was around sunset. We were watching the people on the dance floor. They were happy and we were enjoying watching them. 

Jeff sat on my right, with my right arm draped across his chair. There was an empty, open space on my left. In this space, grandpa Bard appeared to me. He was translucent, like a ghost, but everything about him felt alive. I could see his deep pores in his cheeks, his jagged crooked bottom teeth, his boulder-like knuckles sitting atop his hands spread wide, and best of all, I could see that alert, sharpness in his eyes. 

He was smiling and talking animatedly to me, but I couldn't hear his voice. Inexplicably, I felt that I was running out of time. I leaned forward, turned to him and said, "Grandpa Bard, this is Jeff! I've always wanted you to meet him!" I can't deny that I carried a growing weight deep in my chest from grandpa Bard never getting the chance to meet Jeff, and in this moment, it finally left me and in its place I felt buoyant, light, relieved. 

Grandpa Bard immediately perked up and began talking fast and excitedly to Jeff. We still couldn't hear what he was saying, and almost didn't need to, just by watching how happy he was. The feeling came back, and this time, it told me I was out of time. Grandpa Bard then faced me, and with a big smile, reached forward and tickled my right underarm. 

I left this bright world and woke up to a pitch black room with a tingly sensation where he touched me. Grandpa Bard, I'm so glad you could come to my wedding and meet the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hope you like him as much as I do, and I hope I can make you proud. (ps- he wants to carry on the Lindeman name with me! who could turn down such greatness?) Love you always.

Thanks so much for sharing Steph!  See you on the 2nd Dad.

Love,

Pistol

"Bard-isms"

I gave a talk for leadership at Miami Cancer Institute yesterday.  There have been some great people doing some great work on data and reports, and for some time I've realized that leadership has not really been aware of this, or the significance it has for MCI, just beginning to get some bark around its base.  So as I put the presentation together, I knew it had to be short -- 10 minutes, 10-15 slides max.  Just the high points.  Bard-ism #1: "it has to squeak!"  Meaning, for those of you who didn't grow up in our house, every sentence had to have impact - no wasted space or words.

Here was the first slide:

"MCI has a concerted effort underway to develop an enhanced reporting infrastructure and reports capability."

One of the worst thing you can do in a presentation is to read slides to people.  So coming off the title slide into slide 1, I told the group:

"My Dad was a professional journalist who started in newspapers.  So I learned at a young age, as did my brother and sister, that about the worst thing you can do when you write something is 'bury the lead.'  Hence, slide 1."

By the time I was done with this, the group had read the slide of course, and so bam: on to slide 2.  But the beauty was, if they slept through, or smart phone obsessed through the next 12 slides, it didn't matter, really.

Thanks Dad!

My other favorite "Bard-ism" was ... "go sleigh your dragons."  Increasingly as he got on in years, after a good call in which he got the update on of course, the kids, but the career goings on, whether it was seeing patients in the office, seeing patients in the ED, writing material for ED software, decision support algorithms to keep doctors and patients out of trouble, or optimizing Oncology software for busy Oncologists ... he would sigh and finish as he knew it was time for me to move on after a good update and say: "go sleigh your dragons."

I never thought about it much initially.  But as we got closer to the end, I began to think about that from his perspective.  And even today I project forward to a day when I'm talking to one of my own about her day in the veterinary clinic, the psychiatric facility or office, and as yet undefined on the wild card 3rd child -- and they need to move on with their day and I'm headed for the pool, the garden, the book, the laptop, the ocean ... I'll surely say to them "go sleigh your dragons" ... and smile as I release them back to what seems as if it's the be all and end all for them.  As it should be.  And I'll smile, think of you Dad, and one or all of your beautiful grandchildren, and get on with my "Outrageous Older Man" day ...

Happy Birthday Old Man.  Today was for you.  We love you, and remember you --always.

Pistol

I Won't Let You Go

We'll let go 'cause we have to, but we won't forget! https://youtu.be/x1S2xWCzNAs

December 2nd, 2015

So ironic - the "Strangers" phenomenon - they can't forget Bard now; hah!!! Spielberg! Hanks! And now, a 2nd run for "Strangers." What could possibly be cooler than Janet Ann walking through O'hare airport, stopping at a news/book store and picking up a physical copy of "Strangers On A Bridge," finding the acknowledgements page, and pointing out to Bard's granddaughter Geneva --"here, see, your grandfather wrote this book! And now it's a movie with a famous actor and director/producer, and that's why it's in this bookstore!!!"

He was a fierce devotee to Quality. He worshiped it. Worked at it; sweat over it. Pushed us towards it, never compromising. Didn't matter what it was: basketball layups, shagging ground balls, mowing the lawn, raking leaves, washing the car, writing an essay. Ironic, 'cause I don't think this literary giant could have even spelled the word "Zen." But he embodied it. Lived it.

None of us needed it of course, but 51 years later, searing evidence that a fanatical devotion to Quality is always worth it. Even if there's no "payday." Even if it's posthumous. It's Zen. It's the journey.

We love you Dad, and are especially proud of you this December 2nd. BTW, relax, it's official now old man: you're immortal :-)

--Pistol

55 Years Later - The Movie: Spielberg and Hanks do Strangers on a Bridge

In keeping with publication tradition, particularly in 1960, the highly acclaimed work Strangers on a Bridge was listed as written by James B. Donovan, principal character in the work. In fact, the book was ghostwritten by Bard E. Lindeman, who travelled to Donovan's office at the end of each work day in the high powered law firm, and proceeded to conduct hundreds of hours of in person interviews. Having collected all the essential facts in person, Lindeman then wrote what would eventually, approximately 55 years later, go on to be a major cinema release starring Tom Hanks, produced by Steven Spielberg. From the inside pages of credits, from the 1960 Simon & Schuster publication of Strangers on a Bridge:

Flowers

It seems that this may become the modern day equivalent of bringing flowers to a cemetery. Crazy? Maybe. But what else to do when you haven't forgotten? Maybe one answer is dinner this Friday for the 3 children, now aging adults! As Les put it, it is a bit like "getting the old band back together" ... or something similar ;-)