It Was You

Last week at The Watch City Brewery in Waltham we had a sort of reunion of my brothers and sisters from our days at Mitsubishi Electric, some of them even before and beyond. Thank Goodnews we have Squire Burgess to put out the call once in a blue moon. Somehow he knows it's his job, and he does it so well. They make me proud, these folks. During my 30-plus-years in the computer business, I always considered myself the accidental tourist--a grateful 'victim' of a long string of fortuitous circumstance. In 1984, some mystical alignment of stars placed me across a large conference table from nine Japanese managers and three lawyers, negotiating the price on myself, a handful of others and a three-year project already two-years behind. What a wonderful trip it turned out to be.

A cadre of usual suspects during Iseki Kota and Kako-chan's visit, summer of 2007.

Make no mistake; it was hardly ever easy and not always fun. Hard, challenging creative work never is. We fought many battles on foreign soil, some folks paying the price of separation in their personal lives, all of us changed by the experience.

I am deeply grateful to many Japanese managers: Yonezawa San, Tabuchi San, and my beloved Mutoh San, among others; great guys who trusted me enough to allow me to try things my way.

But most of all, I am grateful to my brothers and sisters.

There were four generations of them, by my reckoning. There were those who came with me from IPL and our first hires: Fran, Chris, Peeto, Kathy, Fred, Limey, Craig M., Suga, Shirai, Sukkoto, Andrea, Mako and half the Egg Brothers. In the office computer era, we hooked up Gary and Carol, Mike.L, Mike D., Jeff P., the Derek, Ueki-San, Paco Saito and the irrepressible Watanabe, the Japanese version of an accident waiting to happen. SW ramps up, new faces appear: Evan, Sam, Rulian, Noemi, Dave Mankins, Steve Mason and Al Leisinger and so on. Finally, Frank, Tom W... and so it goes.

I can't list everyone, wish I could. Everyone had a story. We watched each other grow, mature. Though there were always enough Ali Safavi's, Ken Bloom's, Ray Betterini's and Wakim Bitar's around for comic relief, I loved most of my fellow travelers, if not all.

Late one night, a long time back, someone burst into my office, red-faced and screaming. "Why don't you fire SoAndSo? How do you put up with him?"
"Part of SoAndSo's job is to be the person everyone hates," I told him, "If I fire him, you might be the one." Fortunately, the dutifully despised were few and far between.

When I walked into Watch City Thursday night, I paused by the door, looking around for Steve. When I spotted our gang among the crowded bar's gang of gangs, I stood there for a minute, watching them talking, joking, doing the familiar things they do. I was moved. If there's ever a place in time where a better, more talented, group comes together over so many years, I'd be interested in knowing about it.

It was you, my comrades, my fellow warriors, all along. It was you who made it work. Forever, I'm in your debt.

Mull mentioned that Fran has graciously volunteered to hold the next reunion at his palatial Newton estate. Don't forget to bring along tennis rackets and skeet gear if you're not already penciled in for the 4 PM freestyle orgy... pets welcome!

Thanks, Bubbaloo. You be da man!