David W. Deerfield II

Dave …

… got me.

… made the BioMed body cool and rather fashionable.

… knew where I was coming from, where I was going, and what I could do when I got there, especially when I didn’t.

… saw me for the angry Klingon that I am (not).

… reminded me often that, nine times out of ten, he’d rather hire a hard worker than a genius (thankfully).

… inadvertently became known as Santa Claus to some of my family.

… allowed me tremendous freedom to choose how I spent my time, and never said “told ya so” when I foolishly ignored his time management advice.

… could cool my jets when I forgot to turn off the afterburners.

… made me want to “change the tone, Demian.”

… listened intently — or at least politely feigned interest — even if I rambled on about something totally irrelevant to our conversation.

… was about the only person, next to my wife, who could leave me truly speechless.

… was the Yoda to my Skywalker (err, well, something like that).

… was a good friend and mentor who will be missed.

Thanks for giving a young, naive kid a chance, Dave. You won’t regret it.