Ode to The Bard

Dave Bard passed away today. Customarily at this time I would identify someone as “my boy”, but in fact I was his.

I am a mutt. Made up off a long list of interactions with various degrees of effect. Dave was huge. Huge.

Dave was the General Manager of WEBQ in Harrisburg for a long time, I met him in 1980, or so I have been told. Along with being my boss, on more than one occasion he sheltered me from my own blatant, ongoing, stupidity. While teaching me to speak English.

He took me to vote the first time, and taught me that any good employer makes time for its employees to vote.

After Harry Chapin died we played his records, sat on the floor together drinking beer and we sang.

He taught me. “A real Professional can do anything”! Polka, News, Country, Election Coverage, Weather Emergency. 

He taught me what Shakespeare meant, with all them exotic words, and who Robert Ludlum was. He taught me big words when I was a young man. 

I went to his Christmas parties because I wanted to. That’s a big deal for me. 

He got to break the news to me about my new partner, Cactus Pete/Bill Plater. Shock Jock and Children’s Show Host. That should take off! 

He bragged about me when I wasn’t in the room. Provided “Tom Miller may have bitched a lot but he ALWAYS got the job done!” counts. I count it. I strove for his approval, willingly. 

He and I tried to help Briggs Gordon, we failed. All other disasters we survived, literal disasters!

Dave liked the White Sox and would contort himself while holding on to the radio antenna to hear the score over an ocean of static.

Dave always smiled when he saw dogs, I don’t think he knew that.

Dave loved and missed Faye.

David Bard was a Gentleman, Professional, Father and Servant of the Community who didn’t brag about the many ways he served his listeners. 

Dave Bard is the man who showed me. “A real friend is someone who knows you, and STILL likes you.”