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My Last Las Vegas C.E.S. (1)
(A Memorial Poem)
I long counted Steve Bristow a friend (1) and we'd fly off to lunch
some days (Steve would get 'hours in' he needed for license - small planes).
It was fun to go with him (a 'lunch' more than three hours)! We'd drive
to the plane (all maintained by a club he belonged to), and fly
to airstrips near good restaurants (sometimes we hiked to for we'd
have no car there), fun 'cross to bear.' Such a good friend (I indulge)!

We both worked for Atari, where Steve was VP (day of launch!)
Work was fun but demanding, best games stayed unsigned, but our pains
seemed worth price for first games that computers brought light. We'd contrive
ways to get more from hardware (2) than dreamed by designers, to try
float new games on old platform; the profits insane! But this greed
helped kill us; the best talent grew wings (while the dregs fed fats bulge).
*
I left too! C.E.S. trips were great and I worked hard for slot.
First Chicago, then Vegas as shows grew quite big. There for three
or four days, a great perk I enjoyed, though to see show proved work!
Joined new player - film maker (3), who wanted games based on just 'truth'
(they owned rights to), to capitalize on their brand. But this proved
quite a chore, and they quailed at new games that weren't spawned on their range.

I got retasked by Steve, joined new telephone gig (life's so strange!),
but it turned out OK. Hired to update a KSU (moved
to new microcomputer design) (4), so less 'long in the tooth.'
The success of our venture, my programming, more than small perk.
In two years, our design was completed, then doubled! (5) Whoopee!
Two more years on the job with fat bonus at end! Thanks a lot!
*
I wrote Ten-K of code (6) in each year. Lord, I'd programmed a whale!
But past years' hieroglyphics God locks sans rare 'Rosetta Stones.'
Then (a spell), I spent farming Dakota sun flowers, small grains.
There for six months from Springtime through harvest and Winter Wheat plant.
I'd return then to CA and winter where snow falls (like mist).
Life was good (though few fathom the risks to life found on a farm)!

Steve loved sailing and I too enjoyed both a day or night sail
on the Bay (till his boat was destroyed by slip fire (spine showed bones).
Both retired, we still flew to Las Vegas some years. For it reigns
Electronic's World. Flying in, you feel so small (can enchant).
You're a stranger but Mars looms ahead, flats ablaze (peaks resist), 
sun's light mirror collectors hint life thrives off-planet! (Dream's charm?)
*
Then Steve called me one day for one more flight to Vegas. I'd skipped
more than decade of shows and agreed one more chance to connect
would be fun. He pushed for a day trip but that seemed like a waste!
I gripped, "Show is sooo big!" He agreed to night there, to fly back
the next day, home before it got dark, which would give us two days
to explore. We planned flight for next morning, show opened at ten.

Once we took off I slept (hour or so), but woke up with chagrin
(I had made trip before) for no highway sign under my gaze.
"Where's our road?" I asked Steve. "Not to worry! We're on the right track!"
He then asked, "What's right gauge say? I'm getting a glare!" We had taste
of rough mountains by now. One more ridge! Dear God! 'Mars' feels correct!
We missed toasting, not tower's ire's roasting. Steve's ego got clipped!
*
It turned out that Steve flew far too low and we dropped from 'purview'
and for reasons unclear, Steve lost radio contact and failed
to check-in once connection was lost. I think search plane(s?) sent out.
But its not end of story yet. I saw the airstrip (quite clear)
miles ahead on our left and asked Steve what the deal was. He said,
"I'm lined up for a landing." (I'm sure that we're not and say so!)

Once we landed I was not invited to tower's 'take two'
of events (or Steve's cautions) but flight back that night stayed curtailed
as a hazard I could not support! If he must, should I pout?
(Still could fly back alone, have more time for the show!) Night meal dear
(but his company great), day's excitement at end, we're to bed!
A fine breakfast, two C.E.S. ramblers up raring to go.
*
This was CES where 3-D printers made splash (their appear-
ance on stage of my life) though their output quite fragile at time,
still amazed me! Wild concept - Untraceable Guns (who can say)?!?
There were balls caged in boxes and other weird stuff you could print,
but first samples they proffered destroyed (that shared pockets with coins).
Still think games that take 'legions' to code (pass committees) lack soul!

Our return had no hiccups. Before dark we're home (my chief goal).
Missed! Adventures with Steve, this (I think) his last flight. But it joins
my top shelf of life's treasured events. No life's owned (we just rent)!
Most folks ride, dream they drive (last day's dinosaurs chasing frail prey?)
Some frail dreams still bear fruit. I pray Steve loved his life! Who can rhyme
if a soul's real or not? Fact slight breeze stirs dry leaves I hold dear!
*
*
Brian Johnston
7th of February, 2020
Poet's Notes:
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(2)
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