Mike, my big bro, idol, management coach, hero and friend. As the numerous emails pour in from friends and family, they all express the key to Mike Dillon’s life: Loving life Loving his wife and kids Loving the rest of his family Loving his friends Loving cycling Loving nature Loving adventure Loving reading Loving to write Loving a good breakfast Loving Bruce Springsteen Loving- the list goes on………. Loving a good practical joke His last practical joke was on me that I know of. Mike called me and said he had a surprise for me and wanted to drop it off. Mike pulled up in my driveway and with his Cheshire cat like smile handed me a black box. He said “hold on to this, its dad’s cremation ashes for the funeral. Take a look at the ashes if you want, I did. See you later”. He then got into his car smiling ear to ear and left. I held the black box with my dad’s name on it from the funeral home and waved as he drove off. As I walked back in the house with my dad in this box under my arm, I opened the top and a spring load snake sprung out! Well done Mike!

Doug and I surprised Mike and Bryce in New Mexico last year on their bike ride to Mexico. This photo of one of Doug and my favorites of the three of us. All doing and outdoor activity and the three of us supporting one another no matter what the quest.

Shortly after I retired, Mike said, “We need to do something to commemorate your retirement.” When I didn’t suggest anything epic, he sent me a link and said, “How about this?” It was a Strava link where someone had ridden around the SF Bay. Well, almost all around the Bay – they had taken a bit of a shortcut. Finally, Mike convinced me that this was important so we set a day. I was determined to use the same shortcut I saw on Strava as it kept the ride to a manageable 100 miles. When I mentioned this to Mike, he just said, “Let’s see how it goes.” It was a fantastic, epic ride – beautiful day, great scenes, fun conversation. When we got to the turn for the shortcut, Mike was relentless: “C’mon, we’re doing great. We have plenty of light left. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t go the whole way around” and on and on. I finally gave in and off we went. He was right. We did make it and it was all the better because we challenged ourselves: 143 miles – the farthest I’d ever ridden in a day. Mike did this to me so many times. He pushed me outside of what I thought was good or reasonable or my ability. He was always right and I was so, so much richer for knowing him.

I was lucky enough to meet Mike because as the COO of Adventure Cycling I got to sit through not enough years of Board of Director meetings with him. I appreciated him as a mentor and his encouragement was tremendous. But what I remember most is that when we would all have dinner together at night we would talk about our families. He was so proud of his family and loved the fact when the meeting was over he would get to go over to Spokane and see his son while he was attending Gonzaga. He never left though until he helped clean up all the food and dishes, he said his wife wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t help and I so appreciated that. Here he was an executive at Adobe helping me load the dishwasher. He always asked about my family and I loved that he supported my daughters music and asked about my husband and son. it just showed how really thoughtful and kind he was. He sent me this picture when he got a thank you card from my daughter and I look at it each day now and know how much we will always miss him.

Mike was my mentor and my friend. I took this photo on Halloween in 2013 – early on in his time at Adobe. He came dressed as “ado-bee” (tights and all) to an all hands. There isn’t a day that goes by since then that I haven’t thought “what would Mike do?” He was an incredible mentor and gave the best advice. I will miss him very, very much… There’s a big Mike Dillon sized hole in the world.

I would recognize Mike’s pedal stroke on the bicycle a mile away! I will never forget the trip in the Dolomites, hail, heavy cold rain and flooded roadways going back to our hotel in Corvara, Italy. I was miserable but ole Mike made it fun! This picture of Mike riding the bike in the Wasatch mountains of Utah. Mike would always say to me: Tony let’s go ride someplace flat like Kansas…..I will miss riding bikes with Mike

A ride, a burger, and a beer. One of Mike’s favorite things. He was the one that got me riding. Of course the strategy was a painful ride followed by joy……..We had just finished the Montevina ride and “had” to stop at Main Street Burger. I thought he was fast on the descent but he informed that Liz would totally kick his ass……

Mike had sent a long email to me just last week taking the time to respond to my Father’s obituary in the kind way that is one of his trademarks.

In the race to the Seahawks only Super Bowl victory in 2014, we had a party of 30+ people watch one of the playoff games. We set up our kitchen and living room as a “sports bar” of sorts, with multiple TVs, so that everyone could watch the game. Ever the prankster, Mike had some kind of signal-jamming device that he brought to the party. With only 2 min left in the game, Mike would selectively turn on and off different TVs around the room, laughing hysterically as 30+ people raced from one side of the room to the other. He had a way of bringing joy and laughter into any setting, from the board room to the Sunday bike ride. He is missed.

He was a good man with a great heart—a real force of nature, capable of doing whatever he set his mind to. I thought when Covid was over we’d be able to meet up and raise a glass to life and writing. It was my honor to have worked with Mike. … I will miss this man dearly. When Mary Oliver wrote, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”—Mike heard. He lived a life both wild and precious.

I’m desperately sad for all of us he leaves behind, and most of all for his close family. Yet how fortunate they were to have had a dad like Mike. Kind, creative, powerful, adventurous, smart, funny, empathetic, on the right side: I think of the taillights on the Caddy disappearing in the night. Actually, Mike is probably behind the wheel of that Caddy, speeding through heaven, off on another adventure.

A group of us were on a business trip. I didn’t know Mike but we ended up sitting in the hotel lobby with another guy from work. Mike asked the guy a polite question about something or other and the guy rambled on for what seemed like hours. Eventually, I stretched, said I needed to get some sleep, and started for the elevator. Mike quickly did the same. It was just the two of us in the elevator and was quiet for a minute. Mike then said, “If I ever ask him another question like that, please kick me in the balls.” That’s how a 25-year friendship starts.

We were taking Amtrak overnight from San Jose to Portland. Foolishly, I had booked a regular seat while Mike and another friend had a sleeper cabin. In the middle of the night, Mike woke me from my half-sleep in my uncomfortable chair, saying he “just wanted to read” and that I should take his bed for the rest of the night. A true friend is someone who gives up a good night’s sleep for you.

I came upon a remote-control fart noise-maker and instantly thought of Mike. A few months after I gave it to him he was telling me about a (possibly uptight) peer at the office. Mike had snuck into the guy’s office and dropped the noise-making part behind the file cabinet. The guy’s office had glass walls so Mike could see the guy’s in-office meetings from the hallway. Mike would casually walk by during a big meeting and click the remote in his pocket, watching chaos ensue.

My family and I joined the Dillon’s at the annual Christmas Parade in downtown Los Gatos a few years ago. Toward the end of the parade, a large contingent of some very bored looking group of teenaged parade participants turned the corner and marched toward the Main Street overpass where we were all camped-out. A lone figure descended from the shadows of the sidewalk crowd and merged into the phalanx of teenagers. It was Mike — and he was holding an open pink bakery box of donuts. The kids swarmed him, ripping donuts from the box and high-fiving him as they left. Mike then casually came back and watched the parade with us with that same devlish smile we all remember. That was Mike: unselfish, fun, giving, and always making you smile.

I worked with Mike during my time at Adobe. Prior to his retirement, his admin was able to gather photos of Mike from his wife to be displayed at his last all hands before his official retirement day. Luckily before I created the tribute, I had the chance to hear the story of how he decided to go to law school as he told it to a group of motivated law students. I thought it was a great story to tell about his journey, especially to those who never heard it before. I am not sure if anyone has shared the video, but many who I have sent it to said it really captured his personality. He was one of the most kind-hearted, optimistic, encouraging people in the world. My condolences to your family. He spoke about all of you with so much pride and love. I hope the tribute brings you a good laugh and helps others remember him as one of a kind. Here is the link to the tribute: https://spark.adobe.com/video/ww46tR0lKrYZl

Special people come from special families and, like Mike, the Dillon family was very special to me and my family. Like many of Mike’s friends, Mike’s parents were half parents and half friends to me. They always made you feel very welcome and part of their family. I imagine that having three big, strong, semi-wild sons made Dad and Mom Dillon clamp down on them growing up with tough love, but boy did that work in Mike and the Dillon brothers’ case. These are seriously wonderful people. Mike was big in many ways – tall and strong, big hearted, big intellect, big smile and laughs. In a family with three good looking brothers, it’s funny that Mike never thought he was attractive. He always gave that aw shucks, used to love Star Wars vibe even as women turned their heads to look at him walk by. I still remember the day Mike mentioned that he had met a super attractive and fun woman named Liz. I worked with Mike for several years and I and our third partner colleague like to think we helped cultivate the prankster and playfulness genes in Mike. (The truth is that he was already light years ahead of us in that regard). We had a video game machine in the office break area and often planned pranks together over lunch. Some prank successes were registering a very smart, sophisticated and elegant female colleague at the (fake) JC Penny bridal registry and then promoting that registry through a mail blast to her wedding invitation list. Another success was taking advantage of the fact Doug went on a boys’ trip to SoCal but foolishly left his car and keys at Dad and Mom Dillon’s house. When he returned, the car was painted Mary Kay pink. To Doug’s credit, he drove the car proudly after that. A third success was hampering Doug’s love life with a forged letter from a medical clinic alerting him to the fact someone with an STD had named him as a lover. Sorry Doug. Mike lived for the pranks and the many laughs involved in planning, executing and rehashing such childish behavior. Would that more people follow Mike’s example and engage in such childish behavior! Mike subsequently eclipsed our minor league efforts with truly great pranks over the years. Mike’s smile and laugh will be the last things to fade from my memory of our times together.

Mike was an inspiration, lived in the same town, and I know him as a bike rider, a great writer and someone you can count on. I tried to mimic him when on long bike rides. And when he wrote his daily blog of his cross country bike ride, it cleared the way to get me ready for my 3000 mile ride. He had email advice on tires and encouragement along the way. Mike also made all jobs fun. I remember my son Travis and friends gathering Christmas trees for LGHS Band, and Mike held a 60s music quiz in the truck cab. It all sounded like Adventures-with-Mike to me. I know they will remember his spirit and hopefully carry it forward.

The Doug Dillon Fake STD Letter (a masterful work of art that I remember seeing before it went out) probably ranks as the Number 1 of all time, but the practical joke that Mike Dillon played on me in 1988 I swear ranks right up there in the top five, and I still can work up a pretty good mad over it, though now washed in tears, even after all this time. I had a huge and important software infringement hearing coming up in L.A. Federal court. This was pre internet pre cell phone pre caller ID – fax machines were just coming on the scene. We had filed literally pounds of briefs, and on the afternoon before the hearing I was in our Mountain View office, making sure I had the plane ticket ready, pacing, reviewing and nervously rehearsing my presentation. Along comes a call from “Evan – Judge Feinberg’s clerk,” and “well, Mr. Schachter, the reason I’m calling is that I’m getting the papers in order for tomorrow’s hearing before Judge Feinberg, and I was surprised to see that there is nothing here in the court’s file from your office, so I am just wondering if you are still planning to file any supporting papers.” At first I was calm, I had a full set of file-stamped copies of everything sitting right in front of me on my desk, and I assured Evan that our briefs had all been filed weeks earlier. A Vintage Mike Dillon Practical Joke, as many of you know, involves careful planning and attention to detail, so as to inflict maximum mental anguish, terror and disruption on the target patsy. So, as Mike had obviously trained “Evan” beforehand, no matter what I said to Evan, his repeated snippy response was “Well, I don’t know what to tell you Mr. Schachter but there’s nothing in the file, so you can just take it up with the judge in the morning — Goodbye.” Fast-forward 30 minutes, I am in total freak-out panic, screaming, sweating profusely, calling Fed Ex to expedite a copy (they couldn’t), and basically about to lose my breakfast. A Dillon joke also requires perfect after-the-fact timing once the trap is set, to let the victim spin and suffer for just the right amount of time – cooked to perfection if you will. So, as I’m losing my mind I notice Mike (and Rob) hiding in Rob’s office, laughing their heads off and avoiding all eye contact with me. Mike soon confessed, and Rob had to physically restrain me from slugging Mike in the face (ala “that was NOT F***ING FUNNY, YOU JERK!”). The hearing went off like a charm, we won, and I remembered then that a practical joke is best played on someone you love, and I love you Mike will cherish these memories.