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 ;-)

Tough Times - Peace and Strength

Dad,

4 years today old man, and it still seems like yesterday.  Guess it will always be that way, eh?

Traded some email with Jan yesterday and this evening.  Glad she and Barney made it over there.  Made me realize, that even in these very tough times that precluded my travel to ATL this year, I still can hear you whispering in my ear encouragement, fuel and grist to keep grinding.  Keep pushing.  I can hear that, and it helps, and so little does these days.

So thanks again old man.  You were always there for me, and today more so than ever.  I love you, and will never, ever forget you.

--Pistol

December 2nd, 2012

It was a fantastic day, and more to follow this weekend ... but for now -- A special thanks to Suzy without whom it never would have happened (crickets!).  Big shout out to JSL who made it all so easy and fun.  You and the bulldog clan are all so beautiful.  Tnx, to Jon Foreman for the ongoing inspiration.  I hope this helps everyone that loved Bard feel close again, if just for a moment ...

"... Give me one more time around

Give me one more chance to see ... "

Please note: I apologize for the low quality of this video, but apparently blogger.com has limited their uploads to 100 megs.  I'm playing with export settings, but for now, this is it.  Higher quality available upon request via DVD, dropbox.com, etc ...

I Keep Rowing ...

December 2nd, 2011

Dear Dad,

I touched down in ATL and it was a cool crisp sunny day, the kind you always loved. I went by the old place at 5428 and you’re no doubt at once pleased and unhappy since the new owners are not quite keeping that front yard up to the standards you always did … doesn’t look bad mind you, just missing the TLC you always injected and which always shone through …

Found a nice little mom and pop shop and had a quick lunch as I looked through some old pictures on the Thinkpad. God I just love this one:

Couldn’t resist sending to LWL later in the day … Packed up and went off to the gravesite and the sun was bright and illuminated the beautiful tombstone brilliantly. Last year I thought about the rough times, the illness, the frustration, the hard work, followed by what seemed like a breakthrough and then a tough, hard stop that brought us to this spot. Those moments are rare now, and instead I pulled out the iphone and fired up Picassa … and began slowly moving through the pictures again.

I must confess, I did have a moment where I considered the ethics and etiquette about parking one’s butt on top of a gravesite and leaning back against a tombstone. After having stood for quite a while, and in the bright sunshine, it was almost a necessity … and I decided it was acceptable behavior given the circumstances. So I hope it wasn’t too squishy for you ;-)

Anyway, there are the pictures from your tribute that are classics, and then the ones from the mom era of course, those black and whites … so many great shots among them. S/He was good, whoever that photographer was … there are some ancient ones as well that I’ve scanned in from various shoeboxes here and there. Shots of Les and Janet and I when we were infants, toddlers, etc. Then are the ones that come later on in the timeline where you and Jan just met; your various trips, etc. I guess that’s where the one from above came from.

I re-read the wonderful piece by Steve Dryer, and Les’ moving bio. You’d be proud of your journalist son who captured the best “angle” for your story, casting it in the light of the health care crisis. I guess there could have been multiple angles. From the journalist’s viewpoint, and from the viewpoint of getting the friggin’ Herald to carry –indeed feature!—your obit, it was a brilliant coup. And it can’t help pass my mind that you’re proud of Les for nailing the story, eternal journalist that you are!

For my part, there was some text I wrote I never got worked in anywhere … it’s not the greatest stuff by any stretch, so cut me some slack OK Mr. Red Ink … but it was something that as we spent time together in the later years that impressed me more and more as time went by. And I was surprised at what a dominant part of your personality it became. True, you could still seemingly get in a fistfight at the drop of a hat, or veer your car onto the shoulder of a road to mow over a row of obnoxious McCain/Palin signs and get in a road chase with a Cadillac … but for the most part, that was replaced by this:

While Bard's journalistic "specialty" clearly became all matters pertaining to aging, as well as the craft of teaching writing, his specialty in life really became one of *reaching* people. Thus, whether he was buying a coffee at Starbucks, a car at a dealership, or checking into the hospital at 5:30 AM for a brain biopsy, the goal was always the same: to use his ability with words, wit and stories to *reach* that person. Almost always, of course, the intent was to illicit some type of grin, chuckle or outright laugh. Some times it was to try and bring another person around to one of his own heartfelt opinions. Rarely, but on occasion, it was simply to make a point ...

I was talking to Jan about being “in the moment.” Such a key to life. Something Jesus was very good at, interestingly. And I thought of the above …

I re-read Jimmy Elders eulogy. The play off the “Outrageous” thing was a no-brainer of course. But I had forgotten about all the comparisons to Jesus. Damn, not bad Dad.

I couldn’t dig up the video tribute I did, but I did listen to the Neil tune from it, Old Man.

Instead of going to the last tune, the beautiful U2 piece MLK, I cranked up the tune that was running through my head and more accurately captured my melancholy of the afternoon. Not that the words are in parallel, but the feeling of the song was perfect, it’s UFO, off of the new Coldplay … As Bono says, “a feeling – so much stronger than a thought” …

The sun was still strong and Jan had mentioned a Starbucks only 4 miles away, and I hadn’t found a flower shop yet, so I left to go get us some coffee. I got stuck in a stupid Winder traffic jam, and Siri took me to 2 flower shops, the first of which didn’t exist, and a second that was closed at 4:55 PM … but heading back, Grande in hand, I picked up a nice Poinsietta from a garden shop. As I drove, the melancholy lifted a bit, I thought of all the java we pounded together, and it made me think of this:

I think that’s bringing a smile, eh? (Still your Pistol, ‘ole man).

Jan was there when I got back, and we shared some important time. How the hell did you luck out like that anyway?! (Better to be lucky than good.) I dunno, but she may have been just the perfect (the only?) one who would put up with your antics for 27 years :-) Anyways, she’s still crazy about you. But at some point, she’ll need to take a page from your own playbook, and go find her a hot thing half her age … LOL … You know that time will come …

But know also that we will never forget you. We all think about you every single day. Every day I get a text or email from one of the kids or talk to Mandy or see her do something that still makes me think “wait’ll Dad hears this…” That used to make me sad. Not any more – it reassures now, because I know you’ve already seen or heard it, and are smiling with us. I love you Dad.

Merry Christmas Dad

Dear Dad,

Just wanted to tell you how beautiful your 3 grandchildren belonging to Suzy and I are, and how proud you would be of them on this Christmas. Stephanie made a chocolate pecan pie today that was so good, I thought it might bring you back from beyond the grave ;-) ... I remember so well how much you loved pecans - pecan pie, butter pecan ice cream, pecan brittle, but not sure you hung around long enough to experience chocolate combined with pecans ... to die for; errrr... to live for!

Mel is in grad school now getting a masters in public health as she raises her GPA in anticipation for another round of apps to vet school. When she's not making chocolate pecan pie, Steph is a Sophomore at Elon where she's the "presidential scholar" in her sorority, co-captain of her volleyball team as she maintains a full schedule of rigorous pre-med science courses and her Elon Fellows scholarship endeavors, including planning her research paper and study abroad.

Mandy is a pistol, just like your second born. She is an amazing and complex amalgam of her older sisters, seeming to combine all of their talents and abilities in one package. I thought of you as I reviewed her Iowa test scores where she literally set the curve on language, reading and comprehension scores. They are all to this day so heavily influenced by all that you gave them. We all think about you every single day, and miss you dearly.

Jan gets here tomorrow to spend a week, and we're all looking forward to it. We've got activities, restaurants and all kinds of things in the works.

We all think about you every day. Every day there's something that happens that makes me think "I can't wait to tell Dad about that" ...

I spent a perfect day with you on the 2nd. I'll write about it soon. Meantime, Merry Christmas, Dad ... we all love you ...

--Pistol

Herald Obituary Appears top of page

The Miami Herald ran Bard's obituary Friday, December18th.  Click on above to read the full treatment.  Herald writer Elinor Brecher interviewed Les, Paul and Jan, asked a ton of questions and by the time she was done, clearly knew Bard very well ... another one he touched ... good show Dad ;-)

Feature Obituary in Gwinnet Daily Post

LINDEMAN: Bard was a great role model, father and husband

Bard E. Lindeman, a journalist who predicted the current health care crisis 35 years ago and lost his job because of it, and who went on to become the country’s longest-running columnist on the subject of aging, his column appearing for many years in this newspaper, died Dec. 2 at his home in Stone Mountain. He was 81, suffering from lymphoma, and he was my dad.

Reporter: Leslie Lindeman

Read full story

The Eulogy

Thanks to Dr. Elder for making this text available. As moving as these words are, the Rev. does not read his message - he delivers it. We are so grateful to Dr. Elder for coming over and delivering Bard's eulogy. Clearly Dad never dwelled on dying - I think he would have been fine with anything he knew his wife Jan and kids would do. With the one exception being his eulogy: he wanted Dr/Rev. Jimmy Elder ...

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A Service Remembering the Life of

Mr. Bard E. Lindeman

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Lawrenceville, Georgia

Dr. James C. Elder, Jr., Minister

Matthew 21:13-17 (The Message)


Jesus went straight to the Temple and threw out everyone who had set up shop, buying and selling. He kicked over the tables of loan sharks and the stalls of dove merchants. He quoted this text: My house was designated a house of prayer; You have made it a hangout for thieves. Now there was room for the blind and crippled to get in. They came to Jesus and he healed them. When the religious leaders saw the outrageous things he was doing, and heard all the children running and shouting through the Temple, "Hosanna to David's Son!" they were up in arms and took him to task. "Do you hear what these children are saying?"

"A good friend whom I have never met is gone"

-- Read full story -- 

You made "The Bard on Aging" proud - thanks so much Steve ...

--Paul Lindeman & Family

In Loving Memory 


and

In Celebration of the Life of

Bard E. Lindeman

September 28, 1928

December 2, 2009

Acknowledgements:

You took Bard into your hearts and your lives.
You loved and appreciated him.
He found joy, meaning and a home with you,
his dear friends.
For all this we are eternally grateful.

Pall Bearers

Mr. Leslie Lindeman
Dr. Paul Lindeman
Mr. Greg Domantay
Mr. Jack Still
Mr. Steve Bryant
Mr. Glen Slattery

Honorary Escort
Four of Bard's Granddaughters

Melissa Lindeman
Stephanie Lindeman
Natalie Lindeman
Amanda Lindeman

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Bard Edward Lindeman was a journalist, husband and father who championed causes and lived a strong and independent life. He was by turns stoic and emotional, demanding and forgiving. He could be petulant or dismissive, yet he was unfailingly passionate and hugely generous. He loved people and he had a giant heart.

He began his career in Brooklyn at the height of the prominence of newspapers, covering politics, crime and sports for the World Telegram & Sun. He later lived in Chicago, Miami and Atlanta, but he was a New Yorker all his life.

Working for the best read magazines of the day, he wrote about many famous figures, but his favorite stories were always those of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. “The only story,” he often said, “is man against adversity.”

He settled upon aging as life’s ultimate challenge and became a nationally acknowledged expert. He was among the first to write a syndicated column on the subject, which at its peak was published in more than 100 newspapers weekly. He authored the book, “Be An Outrageous Older Man.” He was eminently qualified to write it.

Working into his 80’s, he became a teacher, sharing his skill and his passion for precisely crafted words with many talented and developing writers. Most became his friends.

In 1971, after the loss of his wife, drawing on his fierce determination, he completed on his own the job of raising his three children. In 1982, he found redemption and reward when he married Jan Still. They were married for 27 years, until his death.

Bard was a lifelong athlete. He was an amateur boxer and football captain at Middlebury College. He had a longstanding love affair with the water, swimming in the ocean off his beloved Lake Worth, Florida.

He touched the lives of countless people. His legacy will live on in the words he wrote and in the hearts of all us who loved him.

--Leslie Lindeman

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Service of Celebration
Saturday, December 5, 2009, 2:00 O’clock
Tom M. Wages Lawrenceville Chapel

Prelude...……………………………..Paul Lambert
Song……Judy Collins…”Amazing Grace”
Scripture/Opening Remarks…………..Rev. Jeff Parmer
Family Tribute……....………….......Leslie Lindeman
Eulogy……..….....….…………..Rev. Jimmy Elder
“For Dad” by………………....Dr. Paul Lindeman
Closing Prayer……...………...…….Rev. Jimmy Elder
Postlude……………………………Paul Lambert

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For Dad

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Donations: The Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center DUMC Box 3624 Durham, NC 27710; Boys & Girls Clubs of America, National Headquarters, 1275 Peachtree St., NE, Atlanta, GA 30309-3506; Second Wind Dreams, P.O. Box 529, Alpharetta, GA 30009-0529

Bard Lindeman

As many may know already, on Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009, Bard Lindeman passed away. Services were held on December 5th at the Tom M. Wages Lawrenceville Chapel. The service featured opening remarks by Reverend Jeff Parmer, and a eulogy by Reverend and doctor Jimmy Elder, a friend of Bard's.

Son Leslie Lindeman delivered a moving goodbye to his father that was poignant, and true to form, very funny as well. Some thought they could hear Bard laughing and cheering from right field.

Son Paul put together an audiovisual tribute titled "For Dad," a collection of photos marking the passage of time ...

Some of Bard's close friends and relatives could not come. For those fine people, and for some who simply wish to hold on to the memories for a bit longer, such as this author, this space will post content which came to life that cold, clear Saturday afternoon in Georgia.

I love you Dad.

--Paul Lindeman