L I F E - Shoeless Jeff Black, by Day (2012)

 (actually written in 2007, maybe)

Fall. 1992.

If ʺShoelessʺ Jeff Black had boobs, theyʹd be natural double‐dʹs.

<rewind><record>

Shoeless Jeff Black. My new Boss. 

When we were introduced, I tried to think of something to say something to make us both uncomfortable.

But I failed to do so.

Jeff’ Black’s boundless computer intelligence pairs nicely ‐ symmetrically ‐ with his affirmative style of corporate management. With a “down‐home” ease, Jeff displays a genteel manner while wielding his command‐line editing broadsword like a medieval Roy Clark; firm yet unassuming. 

In so many meeting rooms of cross‐platform despair and source code exacerbation, his character and UNIX prowess arrive long before he does. 

If ʺShoelessʺ Jeff Black had boobs, theyʹd be natural double‐dʹs.

<rewind><record>

Shoeless Jeff Black was a mortal. Just another guy at the software vendor office.

His arms were the width of number two pencils and his head the size of a medicine ball and, probably, just as heavy.

But Jeff’s physical attributes werenʹt the first thing I noticed.

Oh no.

What I first noticed first about my future boss was his quiet yet effective fashion sense. Up until the first time I met Jeff I had nothing but disdain for effete clothing labels and snobby designers. But that changed when I got to know him.

Jeff wore patterns and colors that were disarming and charming ‐ an accurate, true reflection of his office

demeanor. Jeff gave dignity back to the family of Ralph Lauren porducts that was sorely missing from it in the Eighties; for, in that lost decade, those who wore Polo shirts did so to get attention.

Attention seemed to get Shoeless Jeff Black.