August 4, 2004
Bill G

Bill Gates.  The world’s richest man and my good buddy.  Well not exactly, but Bill and I did have our picture taken and together we wound up on the front page of the Denver Post.

“Me ‘n Bill” was an experience I knew would get me 5 years to life for stalking and Tim Foster caused it all. 

A couple of years back Microsoft was being sued by more Attorney Generals than there are stars on the flag.  So Bill embarked on his “kinder, gentler” tour demonstrating to America he wasn’t the ruthless, hard nosed, take no prisoners guy we all knew and admired.  

One of the “Billy G and Company” stops was Denver’s Buell Theater.  Jamie Hamilton, a member of the Governors Commission on Science and Technology, a group receiving special invites, asked if I wanted to tag along.  

Before the Gates speech we were forced to endure a thirty-minute discourse on the future of technology by Joseph Nachio, then head of Qwest.  Mr. Nachio, a man whose linguistic abilities make wallpaper seem fascinating by comparison, was later forced to walk the plank as the Qwest grand poobah and now has a court date to determine whether he was involved in what lawyers like to call “accounting irregularities” and the rest of us term “cooking the books”.  It would be best to warn jurors standing in judgment of Mr. Nachio that should he choose to testify they best get a good night’s sleep before he takes the stand because if his testimony is as scintillating as his speech that day the most interested of spectators will nod off in seconds.  

After Mr. Nachio droned to his conclusion, it was announced members of the Governors Commission on Science and Technology should report backstage to have their picture taken with the Chief Micro-Softy.  Tim Foster, at the time a member of the Governors cabinet, had joined Jamie and I in the audience. “See you around VIP’s” I remarked and stood allowing Foster and Hamilton to exit the row.  “Oh Maynard”, said Foster, “Come with us”.  My sounding like Al on “Tool Time” with the reply, “I don’t think so Tim.”  did nothing to deter a very insistent Foster.  With an arm on my shoulder and a hand at my back, he maneuvered yours truly toward the backstage entrance where the power brokers of Colorado’s tech industry were being checked in.  Seeing the swarm of humorless security goons at the door made me certain the evening ahead would be spent in some gray bar hotel.  But as we approached “Checkpoint Charlie” Tim draped his nametag around my neck.  The check in lady looked at it, said “Tim Foster” and put a check by that name on her VIP list.  Right behind me came the real Tim who looked her square in the eye and said confidently, “I don’t have my nametag but I’m Tim Foster.”  The lady looked at her sheet, glanced up and corrected him, “I’m sorry but Tim Foster has already checked in.”  Just then a faceless official stepped forward from the goon crowd exclaiming, “Hey that’s Tim Foster.”  Being a bureaucrat to the max the check in lady said not a word but looked at her sheet and marked a second check by Foster, Tim.  And we were in. 

     Then we lined up for the photo.  I took an inconspicuous spot at the very end of a riser but “vertically challenged” people are never allowed on a pictures edge.  We’re always moved up front.  I was quickly re-located to the middle of the second riser.  After what seemed like a year’s wait, in strolled more security goons and Governor Owens followed by the world’s richest geek.  As the “stars” , they were directed to stand front row center in front of you know whom.  

     The next morning my youngest called to say, “You won’t believe this but there’s a guy looking a lot like you standing behind Bill Gates on the front page of the Post.” Despite assurances it was her Dad, she was less than convinced.  But thanks to Mr. Foster, I have the official photo.  And at the bottom, the Governor wrote a notation thanking me for my “long and meritorious service on the Science and Technology Commission.” 

     Funny guy, the Guv.