Just kidding. Never met the guy, although did come within 20 feet of him. This is the account of almost meeting him at an IBM event in 2001, which is in my most recent book (July 2025), If It’s Shreveport, It Must be Tuesday.
* * *
“Welcome to IBM ASP World 2001,” says the woman at the registration desk. “I hope your accommodation is satisfactory. All the conference materials are in there, along with your personal agenda. Don’t forget we’ve got a private Bon Jovi concert on the last day! Your ticket’s inside and also your invitation to a dinner with executives and VIP clients tonight at the El Plantain Cuban restaurant. The bus leaves from the front door at six. Oh. Here’s Megan. She’ll be looking after you.”
A woman in a navy-blue pantsuit and white dress shirt bustles up. She couldn’t possibly look more IBM if she tried. “We’re so glad to have you. Today we have you attending the sessions we’ve selected, including lunch with public relations staff, then dinner at one of the best Cuban restaurants in town. Then tomorrow you’ll have your one-on-ones with the clients who’ll tell their ASP success stories. Then there’s a dinner at Disney World, then on the final day more one-on-ones and of course, the Bon Jovi concert. Let’s get started, shall we?”
My exhausted feet struggle to keep up, as Megan jogs through the atrium like the Red Queen in Through the Looking-Glass. Or the Blue Queen, in this case. “We don’t want to be late for the opening plenary session! Wouldn’t be good to have an empty seat staring back at Robert Redford.”
Robert Redford?
Megan leads me down a vertiginous auditorium aisle. I’m doing as dignified a version of old lady stair navigation as I can manage: one foot on the step, the other foot on the step. Repeat. This is partly because of the shoes I thought would be perfect and aren’t, but mostly because the height could go span-to-span with a Pittsburgh bridge and not bat an eye. I’m pretty sure I’m going to free-fall down to the stage and take out Robert Redford. Ha! As if Robert Redford’s ever going to show up at an IBM conference.
I manage to stay alive long enough to reach a seat in the front row that has a tent card on it that says it’s reserved. For me. Megan removes the card and motions for me to sit down. She takes the seat beside me. I take out my notebook and Megan does the same. Looks like Megan and I will be joined at the hip for the duration.
The auditorium lights go down and the stage lights go up to reveal two comfy chairs angled at each other, with a coffee table in between. Robert Redford’s in one of them. So close he’s in spitting distance. “That’s Mr. Gerstner,” Megan whispers. “He’ll be at dinner tonight.” What about Robert Redford? Megan doesn’t seem to think he’s as important as Mr. Gerstner.
“So, Lou,” says Robert Redford. “What are we going to talk about today?”
“Well, Bob, I think our audience wants your thoughts about innovation. They’re all on the bleeding edge of technological excellence. Our big blue wave of application service providers is what makes that happen.”
I try to figure out what credentials Robert Redford has to be talking about innovation, but I soon give up and immerse myself in enjoying the view. He’s almost a senior citizen but still isn’t remotely hard on the eyes. No need to pay attention to what he’s saying. Forget about Jon Bon Jovi, even though he’s more age appropriate. This may be the highlight of my trip. Megan is scribbling frantically. Maybe I can borrow her notes.