Many years ago, when I was a boss and Marc was one of my salespeople, I let him throw a party at my home pool. If questioned by management, it was his party – not mine – but just happened to be at my house. It became an annual tradition. Marc and I had a special connection dating back to his teenage years, while I was working for his dad at a Ft. Wayne, Indiana radio station. His old man was one of the toughest and most demanding managers I ever worked for, so I figured that Marc would be a good first hire for me in the Indianapolis television market. Thirty-four years later, Marc is finally leaving the business, and I wanted to contribute something for his retirement party. 

When I write these personalized poems, I realize that there are many inside references, so you may not understand everything about the content. He’s a guy that has followed in my footsteps, replacing me in Lafayette as General Manager and raising his family in Zionsville, a location between the station and Indianapolis. We did business in both places. Like me, Marc also married someone he worked with and left the company (LIN-TV) once they sold the stations where we worked. Regardless, our paths kept crossing through the years, and although he knew and worked with my wife and I knew his, most of our joint interactions were at company retreats, conventions, and promotions where our kids were not present. Plus, he remained in Indiana, while we moved to Illinois, Texas, Oregon, and Florida,

His wife’s name is Lynn, while our company research director was Lynne. I hired her, as well, but he took over where I left off. She is organizing the party and I therefor refer to the three LIN Lynn(e)s in his life. As you can see, we have all be closely interconnected throughout our careers. One one occasion, we all traveled together to Stowe, Vermont for a ski promotion and ended up doing shot-skis (shot glasses attached to a snow ski). After over-doing-it, we selected costumes from the lost-and-found and took some silly photos. The photos were later laminated and used as place mats at our favorite Indy hangout, The Great Divide.

 

Marc’s Party (not at my house)

April Fool’s Day,

One of my first hires.

And 34-years later.

Marc finally retires.

 

Your dad was my boss,

And I was once yours.

Following each other,

Forever endures.

 

One poem per person,

Was my initial vow.

But our paths kept crossing,

As I re-honor you now.

 

You took my place,

At WLFI.

Then back to THR,

Without the LIN tie.

 

We both chose Zionsville,

For a home to own.

Sam and Peyton,

I’ve barely known.

 

We’ve “Dickled” together,

Skied coast-to-coast.

Wish I was there,

For this retirement roast.

 

We both fished off,

The company pier.

Found the loves of our lives,

Co-working so near.

 

I’ve tried to ignore,

Your history of pranks.

For not picking on me,

I offer my thanks.

 

Our work intertwined,

With promotional free-bees.

One such great adventure,

Involved multiple “shot-skis.”

 

We then dressed up,

In silly lost-and-found hats.

The laminated photos,

Were Great Divide placemats.

 

The retirement party organizer,

Along with your LIN-TV wife.

There just weren’t enough,

LIN Lynn(e)’s in your life.

 

I’ll regret not attending,

And feel like a louse.

But this wild party,

Is not at my house.

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