Chapter 34: A Bit of Frustration

Sunday, October 20, 1985

We were up and out of the hotel by eight-thirty. I got us on the road, after which Paige said, “So! What’s the surprise?”

“The surprise is ... that you don’t get to sleep in and have to go to church.”

She giggled and said, “Um ... boo?”

“We’re going to the church I went to for ... heck, nearly a decade,” I said.

“Oh!” she said. “I think that counts as a ‘yay!’ At least, somewhat.”

“It’ll be almost as new to me as it is to any of you,” I said. “The building will be familiar, but most of the congregation won’t be the same, and the minister, musicians, whatever, will all be totally new.”

“This is kinda cool,” Jas said.

“We’re UUs now,” I said. “It felt like maybe a good thing to do.”

“I like it!” Angie said. “It sounds fun.”

“I stand by my ‘yay!’” Paige said, grinning. “This sounds cool. I really like our church in College Station. More than I expected to!”

We talked about the church as I drove us there. It was only a few miles from Kerbey Lane, which is how I’d gotten the idea.

Like most parts of Austin, there were things that were totally different than my much-later memories, but some things had barely changed. The state buildings around the church looked so close to their 2020 appearance that I was hard-pressed to detect any difference, and the church itself looked very similar.

We parked and headed in, introducing ourselves as members of the Brazos Valley church visiting the area. After a warm welcome, we settled ourselves in the sanctuary.

The whole thing was ... interesting. The church had been much better in the 2010s, in my opinion. Better music, better minister, better a lot of things. This was good, though. Quite good.

There were a small handful of people I recognized as decades-younger versions of their future selves. I hadn’t been close to any of them, nor did I know any critical information I would feel guilty about not sharing, but it was ... well, not unique, but close to unique. Beyond Mom and Dad, there were very few people in my life now who I’d also known as their older selves. I knew where I could find people like that, but I had no interest in trying.

Michael Dell, of course, was both. I’d known his public persona. I knew what he would look like and sound like at thirty, forty, and fifty. But I hadn’t known him at all. That made him more like knowing Michael J. Fox’s future, or that of dozens of other public figures.

There was absolutely no déjà vu in this visit. No weird feeling of things being somewhat off, or wrong, or whatever. That, by itself, felt like a victory. It was just a place, a place I could visit and enjoy.

And not just that, but visit and enjoy with the people closest to me in the world.

We waited outside Kerbey Lane for about ten minutes before Michael appeared. He was still fairly anonymous. The clock continued to run on that, though. Perhaps three years at most. After the IPO, things would get progressively harder in that regard. Under a year after that, Austin would be reacting to the sudden emergence of ‘Dellionaires’ (and their resulting spending and philanthropy), placing him squarely in the public eye.

The girls all hugged him, and we shook hands, then headed in. He admitted to having slept late this morning, something we all congratulated him for. Apparently, at least some semblance of work-life balance was creeping in, though it was very much still a work in progress.

Brunch was fun. No mimosas, but plenty of lively conversation. Michael wanted to hear about our adventures in the British Isles, and we were happy to share. We brought him some souvenirs, too, and he appreciated the thought.

We left at around one, heading over to P.C.’s Limited’s offices. Michael gave us a quick tour, concentrating on new areas. The manufacturing and shipping lines were running and many of the workers waved to us. We all returned their waves, as did Michael. It was pretty obvious that he was a popular guy. Not surprising, since everyone here had well-paying jobs thanks to Michael’s efforts. I’m sure some people thought he was a tough boss, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. He was also a fair boss, one who made sure his employees had good benefits and a healthy bonus program.

Most likely, few people knew who we were or why we had employee badges, but that was fine. I would become a known quantity within a few years. The girls might or might not. Honestly, it might never matter after the IPO. I was the one most directly connected to Dell and would continue to be.

On the other hand... many years down the road, Michael had needed venture capital funding to take Dell private. In my universe, that came from Silver Lake Partners. Michael had ties to their leadership, but he also had ties to us. Perhaps MNMS, or one of its descendants, might become Michael’s funding partner down the road, just as we already had.

Michael and Silver Lake had both made billions on that deal (not without significant risk along the way — but few billion-dollar deals are risk-free). If history repeated itself, we would love to be a part of that.

We wound up in his office, where he updated us a bit. Not a lot, since the quarter was ongoing and some of the results were unclear. There were good signs (sales were strong, new models were being well-received) and bad ones (cash flow continued to be tighter than one would hope, some of their models had shown at least minor reliability flaws, and manufacturing was getting somewhat harder and more technical as parts counts went up).

Michael was actively looking for an operations guy (likely to hold the title of President). I hoped he found one soon. He clearly couldn’t continue to do everything. It had been a slow search thus far, though. Friends of his had given him some names. None of them had panned out yet, not even to the point of a real interview.

He promised to call me in once he found anyone he thought was a good fit. By this point, having acquiesced to being in that role, I was looking forward to it. Sure, part of me still wanted to be a silent partner and let history repeat itself, but I also wanted to be a good friend to Michael and help him through this transition.

It was a different universe. We might think we knew the future, but we were making that future right now. Who’s to say that, if we diverged, we might not make a better future?

We hit the road around four and made it home by six, just in time for dinner. Cammie and Mel expected us and had made plenty.

Candice and Sherry joined us as well. They wanted to hear about our trip to Austin. To them, Michael was merely a friend Steve and Angie knew from Memorial. We would eventually reveal the business connection, but the parents deserved the news first and we weren’t ready to share it.

They were, as yet, unaware of my dating Amy. We would probably reveal that, too, if things continued as they were.

Next week was an exam week, but we felt prepared and ready. We still spent much of the evening studying, though. It was what we did, after all.

I took the time to read today’s paper, though, and noticed that Tulane had managed an upset of Mississippi State, winning 27-24. That was their first win of the season. I had no idea if Marshall was a factor, but I hoped he was. Ripple or not, I wanted him to do well.

Monday, October 21, 1985

Darla and I set another date for Wednesday. A real one, not another ‘not a date’ date, though it was to see ‘Bus Stop’ on campus. I’d looked at what was in theaters and nothing really appealed to me for a date with Darla.

We would go out for dinner, and might go out for dessert after the movie. I was picking her up at Krueger and would return her to her room.

She asked about Amy, but it was very brief and I only said we’d had a nice time. There were things I would discuss if we got deeper into it, but some were off-limits (as they should be). Darla wouldn’t want me talking about details of my dates with her, either. Except for Jas, but she was an exception.

The girls and I decided to host another party for the evening of Saturday, November 2nd. That was a calculated risk. A&M was playing SMU that day, and SMU was a quality opponent and would likely be favored. These were, after all, the days of the ‘Pony Express’. I wasn’t sure how many years it would be before SMU would face the football ‘death penalty’ for their over-the-top recruiting violations, but it was coming up fairly soon.

Still, we figured that, if the game didn’t work out as we hoped, people might still want to drown their sorrows and hang out with friends.

With fall temperatures more and more common, we might get people into the hot tub. With that in mind, we decided to encourage people to bring suits. Oh, we had loaner suits, but most people would rather have their own. We would certainly allow naked hot tubbing, but not until those unwilling to strip had left.

I had to wonder if Darla or Amy would take us up on that. That is, if they even attended. I really couldn’t imagine either of them joining the naked group, but I might be misreading them.

And, obviously, I might see more than a few of the GSS guys in the altogether (and them me, naturally). Not my cup of tea, but I had nothing against it, either.

Tonight was another Broadway series show, ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’. John Cullum, who starred in it, made a pretty good Cyrano. It was also somewhat shortened compared to some stage adaptations, likely more similar to the José Ferrer movie version. Heck, one might even call it the ‘Good Parts Version,’ a phrase that also applies to ‘The Princess Bride’.

We all enjoyed it, and also were amused by it. While we, and many of the people in speech, debate, and drama at Memorial, were at least reasonably physically attractive, the idea of someone gifted with words but physically unattractive resonated with us.

It wouldn’t be a favorite, but we were glad we’d seen it.

Tuesday, October 22, 1985

I stopped by the Hullabaloo Cafe between classes. Since Amy and I weren’t dating this week, I wanted to check in with her.

The cafe was pretty busy, so we didn’t get a chance to talk all that much. Still, Amy made it clear she’d enjoyed our date and was looking forward to another.

We exchanged wishes for each other’s continued survival. That seemed to amuse the others who overheard us.

After dinner, Jas, Angie, Paige, and I headed off to the mall to get birthday cards for Dad. His birthday was coming up this Friday. By a lucky coincidence, we would be in Houston.

We wound up with six cards, one each and one from each of the couples. That seemed like it might be overdoing it, but I was pretty sure Dad would appreciate it.

We didn’t buy anything more than cards. It really was the thought that counted. Our being there would mean more than nearly any present we could find.

Wednesday, October 23, 1985

As planned, I picked Darla up at five-thirty. We were seeing the early showing of the movie.

Her dark-blue blouse showed a bit more cleavage than she had previously, and her black skirt was a trifle shorter and more flouncy. I wasn’t sure if this was simply a natural evolution of her dating attire or if she was trying to encourage more chasing. It’s certainly true that girls (even girls on dates) aren’t always dressing for the person they’re dating, but it’s reasonable to at least consider that possibility.

In any case, my outfit (dark green shirt, black slacks, dress shoes) complemented hers well, thankfully.

I offered my arm, she took it, and we were off.

We made small talk on our way to the car, catching up on how each other’s classes were going and so forth. I asked about her visit to Houston, and she said it had been great, except she wished it lined up with the Rice game. Last year, she’d been able to go to the Houston game and celebrate her dad’s birthday during the same trip. Maybe that would work again next year.

Angie and I were the lucky ones this year. Dad’s birthday was on Friday and we would be down there for the Rice game.

We’d largely run out of those topics by the time we reached our destination, a fairly new casual Italian restaurant out by the mall.

Darla snorted a bit.

“You would take me to a place where I can dribble tomato sauce all over my outfit!”

“I’ve seen you eat Italian food,” I said. “Thus far, no dribbling.”

“So you think!” she said, but she was giggling. “Italian is fair game for dating, but you’re running me by my room if this goes awry!”

“You know, if I said that...”

She giggled more.

“Dribbling tomato sauce on yourself in order to lure the girl into your room? Very sneaky! Linda would approve!”

“But would Darla approve?”

She blushed a tiny bit, but seemed quite fine with it.

“Darla might. We’ll see!”

We held hands walking in. I hadn’t made reservations — because they didn’t take reservations — but it was only about a quarter full this early and we had a table immediately.

Darla wound up picking the lasagna, while I went with chicken carbonara.

After a bit, she said, “So ... if this is appropriate — which I don’t know if it is — tell me a bit about Amy.”

“It’s appropriate up to a point, and I will. The same with ‘tell me a bit about Darla,’ though I haven’t done that.”