First and foremost, as on the first page of the Introduction, and on every other page, and in a straight line stretching all the way back to the Stanford-versus-UCLA football game in 1956 (Stanford 13, UCLA 14, unfortunately), where I first met him, is Benji (as those of us who love him call him) Rosen. What I said on the first page is well worth repeating: The conversation I had with Benji 31 years (almost to the day) after that football game changed my life. For that, I am eternally grateful.

I wouldn’t have met Benji, however, nor would I have met all the other wonderful people in this book (in fact, I might have been a dentist in Great Neck, New York), if I hadn’t walked into the freshman speech class at New York University, taught by one of Professor Ormond Drake’s brightest young Turks, Harry Miles Muheim. From the moment I met him, Harry’s eloquence, intellect, charm, and wit made me a starstruck acolyte. Whatever Harry said, did, or referenced became my gospel. Within weeks of the first class, my intended dental career receded into the dusty rafters of the little theatre group that Harry suggested I join. That experience became the seed for a career that led all the way to the CBS Broadcast Center in Manhattan, with a major stop at the Stanford University Graduate School of Speech and Drama, of which Harry was an alumnus. But Harry was far more than a mentor; he remained my role model and friend throughout the many stages of my career. Thank you, Mu.

Special thanks to Tim Moore, my publisher at Financial Times/Prentice Hall, and to Karl Weber (and to Linda Chester, who introduced me to Karl), who helped me convert the spoken words and PowerPoint slides of my Power Presentations program into text. Tim and Karl brought a combination of creative synergy and professional acumen I have not experienced in all my years and all my careers. Karl contributed his considerable business and publishing expertise while sharing the insights and resonance of a fellow ink-stained wretch. Tim contributed his wisdom and most welcome wit, as well as a stellar team of publishing professionals, including Russ Hall, Gail Cocker-Bogusz, and especially Donna Cullen-Dolce. For the revised version, Gayle Johnson, Gloria Schurick, and Lori Lyons continued the team’s professionalism.

My connection to Tim extends back along the lines that weave through Cisco Systems, beginning with Don Valentine at the IPO, and continuing through hundreds of Cisco people, culminating with Sue Bostrom and Jim LeValley. Most prominent in that lengthy chain are Chuck Elliot, Corinne Marsolier, Philippe Brawerman, and Brent Bilger. The company that internetworks all networks knows how to grab, navigate, and deposit.

I am grateful to all the fine young women who have helped me run the business side of Power Presentations and, in so doing, freed me to develop the creative concepts that led to this book: Jennifer Haydon, Nancy Price, Susan Hill, Heather Scott, Jennifer Turcotte, and Nichole Nears. Jennifer, the penultimate, has been the ultimate researcher, finding facts and people with the diligence of a Scotland Yard detective. Nichole, the latest in the illustrious line, not only managed the many drafts of the electronic manuscript, she also single-handedly regenerated every graphic element that took me a decade and a half to create in PowerPoint.

Thanks too to Jim Welch, the nth power behind the Power; to Bill Davidow, a man with the uncanny dexterity to see the forest and the trees simultaneously; to Don Valentine, whose own ability to tell a story and facility with Less Is More makes him as quotable as Hamlet; to Melvin Van Peebles, the only man I know who can brainstorm in midair; to Christopher Spray, who helped me seek out my own Point B; to Quentin Hardy, who provided the seed; to B. J. Coffman, for the spark; to Cousin Joel Goldberg, who put the vision in television; to Warren Kaplan, in his nature; to Shelley Floyd, always there; to Roberta Baron and Denise Burrows, both P-I-T-Apostrophe; and to Frank Perlroth, for the joie de vivre.

In The King and I, Anna, a teacher, sings of being taught by her students. I have been taught by my students, the thousands of businessmen and women whose daily, real-life, mission-critical communication challenges enabled me to take the esoteric concepts and practices of professional media and translate them into everyday terms. In particular, my gratitude goes to the people who granted me permission to discuss my work with them in this book: Andrea Cunningham, Don Valentine, Cate Muther, Jeff Raikes, Dan Warmenhoven, Alex Naqvi, Jim Bixby, Reed Hastings, Judy Tarabini McNulty, Chuck Geschke, Randy Steck, Dr. Robert Colwell, Dadi Perlmutter, Dave Castaldi, Dr. Nancy Chang, Jerry Rogers, Hugh Martin, Dr. Emile Loria, Scott Cook, Mike Pope, Adrian Slywotzky, James Richardson, Tim Koogle, Gary Valenzeula, Bud Colligan, Carol Case, Dr. Charles Ebert, Vince Mendillo, Jim Flautt, Jon Bromberg, Gary Stewart, Dr. Jacques Essinger, Chuck Boesenberg, Roger McNamee, Don Listwin, Will Flash, and Richard Bretschneider.

And to Lucie, the Anchor Object in my life, Sabor a Mi.