"I don’t know how I lived without this. I feel so much smarter now!”
Those were the words of an ex-girlfriend of mine, within a day of getting her first iPhone. They still make me want to punch a baby when I think of them. But I don’t blame her for that: I blame (or laud) Steve Jobs. Prior to 2007, the very idea that a small computer that sometimes functions as a phone could change someone’s life would have been laughable. Enter Steve Jobs.
I don’t own any Apple products, save for the iPhone issued to me by my day job. But I’m in the minority. For most of us maybe all of us Apple products are an indelible part of our lives. Any MP3 player is referred to as an iPod. I challenge you to find someone who purchases music anywhere other than iTunes. It’s not just a company or a product; it’s a part of our culture.
And that’s why Steve Jobs served as such a brilliant leader. More than just the captain of a massive corporate vessel, Jobs is a modern-day, real-life Don Draper. More than anything, he has the ability to sell dreams, to sell lifestyles. Where other tech companies advertised their products’ features and how well they worked, Jobs spearheaded products that we had to have. We needed them. We were out of the loop without them. It wasn’t about wanting it because it was better or faster or made work easier. We wanted his toys because after Jobs’ announcement and before you even got a chance to hold it in your hand, there was an iPhone-shaped hole in our souls. Through Jobs’ brilliance, Apple has achieved the corporate brass ring: both a zealous cult following and mainstream admiration.
Jobs also taught us a thing or two about strategy and product design. Until the iPad, Apple was largely a follower. The iPhone was far from the first smartphone. The iPod was hardly the first MP3 player. Rather than joining in the rat race to produce new ideas to one-up its competitors, Apple chose to simply wait, watch and improve. It had nothing to do with the latest hardware. It was about functionality and overcoming the obstacles that made competitors’ products seem silly by comparison. Recall Apple’s somewhat brash, cocky marketing campaign: “It just works.” Nothing flashy, not a lot you haven’t seen before just something that’s going to work so well that it will become an extension of yourself.
I think that’s a valuable lesson for anyone, particularly for young men wondering how they’ll make a name for themselves in an increasingly small, crowded world. Innovation doesn’t have to come in the form of raw creation. Rather, it can come from a place of study and improvement. You don’t have to come up with the next big thing. If you can take an accepted process or product and make it better, you have a chance of adding more value than you might have realized.
When the iPad hit the scene, to me it said that Apple had reached critical mass. It took the leap from being a company that redefines the market to one that outright creates it. It’s inarguable that Jobs’ vision and leadership played a part in that. Even though he’s stepping down as CEO, Apple would be foolish to move forward without his guidance: it’s no surprise that, despite his ill-health and the hand-off to Tim Cook, he still plans to act as chairman of the board.
I may never break down and buy your overpriced, artfully designed machines, Steve, but, god damn it, do I respect you for making me think about it.
You are an a**hole. Just joshing, bro! But, seriously, you’re kind of a tool. Also, you’re in a fraternity. You think wearing your ball cap brim-forward constitutes formal wear. You have two varsity letters: one in water polo and one in half-naked-dude mud wrestling. There’s a funny story you like to tell involving Jagermeister and a security guard. Books don’t interest you much, but Tucker Max is the man. (Seriously, he’s, like, the best writer since Chuck Palahniuk.) You’re not big on shirts. You’re planning big things with your major in interdisciplinary studies. By the way, you looked great in those USC rooftop sex photos.
You're the youngest child, and not as good at sports as your siblings. You didn’t get much attention at home. So now you dress rather like a dandy angling for an internship with the Joker. And the only thing more obnoxious than the price of your wardrobe is the reach of your vanity. Your occupation: high-society gala attendee. One day the inheritance may run out, but that day is not today. People often tell you you’d make a beautiful woman. You drink champagne on all occasions. You have never gone fishing. You are the reason the rest of us don’t understand the French.
You may be a famous athlete, a weekend warrior or a middle manager with a serious golf obsession. Sure, you could pay less for better functionality, but then you couldn’t brand yourself with little swooshes. You vote Republican, but you tell people you’re independent. There’s one rule in your house: No talking during the NCAA basketball tournament. You take your gum chewing very seriously. In your refrigerator, you’ve got a sixer of Michelob ULTRA. Once, you got thrown out of your kid’s soccer game for heckling the referee. Look, a bad call is a bad call, whether the players are pros or preschoolers. And that’s precisely the kind of thing your ex-wife just didn’t understand.
You live in the city or, rather, you wish you did, which is why you shop at Kenneth Cole. You’ve got a subscription to Details magazine and own at least one of the following: a punch card to Jamba Juice, a face moisturizer, a shirt with epaulettes. You didn’t plan to end up in advertising, but the art career wasn’t working out, and Pilates classes don’t pay for themselves. You know more about style than your friends, but less than you think you do. "Metrosexual": The term is overused, but you’re reason it exists. Nobody knows that those glasses aren’t really prescription.
Timberland If you had a pair of Timberland work boots for every day of actual labor you’ve done in your life, you’d have zero pairs of Timberland work boots. But tough is a mindset. So, apparently, is “gansta.” Yeah, you’re keeping it real. East Coast, dawg. And on the subway, in your puffy jacket, knees spread wide, you can claim a bench normally shared by three. Years from now, deaf as a board, you’ll regret all those hours spent blasting your ear-buds at concert levels. You own people on Madden, on X-Box Live (especially after you smoke a little). Your default emotional state: unimpressed.
Levi’s You are not one to be tossed around by the fickle winds of fashion, which is why you’ve been wearing the same brand of jeans since 1989. You are practical. You appreciate things that last. You know the value of a dollar. In other words, you’re cheap. Probably from the Midwest. You might own a truck. Also, a Sam’s Club membership card. And a Johnny Cash album. Joke is on everyone else, though, because Levi’s are cool again (not that you were paying attention). From fashion failure to trendsetter in one season. Your commitment to habit proves one thing: Eventually, everything old will be new again.
Rocket is a 5 month old ShihTzu, basically Rocket is our family's first dog. At first I was adjusting on how to take care of this kind of creature. It was hard for me because I need to feed him on time, he needs to be pampered, I need to make sure that in a day I should have the chance to play with him even in just a short time, because this kind of dogs love to play and wants attention. My brother and sister loves Rocket too except for my mom at first. My mom appreciates the cuteness of dogs but having a dog in the house is a big no for her. As time passes by she maybe realized that this dog really mean a lot to me and my other siblings and turned her perception about having Rocket in the house different. I myself can say that you can't resist the cuteness of Rocket. haha