Archive for the ‘Popular culture’ Category

How to make Steve Jobs immortal

Steve Jobs by Jim George

In the spirit of thinking differently, I’d like to suggest that Steve Jobs was not a person, but a way of thinking. As long as others emulate his approach to “thinking,” he will never die.

From what I can piece together from afar, Jobs crossed boundaries that few dare cross. Not because they are difficult or dangerous, but because so many of us prefer to live in comfortable boxes.

Why is it that engineers don’t sometimes stare for hours at a flower, marveling at its beauty? Why don’t accountants write an occasional screenplay? What stops many doctors from treating patients instead of conditions?

I feel uncomfortable in boxes, but have often lacked the discipline to stay in one box long enough to make tangible progress. I know firsthand the challenge isn’t simply to get out of your box, but also to combine varied perspectives and activities into one mashup that makes a difference.

For all of Jobs’ willingness to think differently, he was able to muster a laserlike focus on excellence and execution. There are people who turn to drugs or New Age ideas just to escape responsibility, but a few turn there for inspiration that they bring back to the other side.

This is what so many of us fear: crossing to the other side, and then coming back with something tangible. By other side, I don’t mean death. I mean a Democrat hanging out with Republicans, a Rabbi going to church, an artist studying engineering.

If you stumble upon this piece, you are likely to read it and change nothing. But think about this: we don’t need more Steve Jobs. We just need more people to think, live and work like he did. Don’t think about it. Just do.

Could you live Andy Rooney’s life?

What would it have felt like to be Andy Rooney, who last night delivered his last essay on 60 Minutes? Could you have come up with 1,097 things that irritated, annoyed, or perplexed you?

Can you imagine what it must have been like to have to find a new frustration every week? You, normal person, go to a restaurant to enjoy dinner. But Andy had to ask himself and others a series of trivial but intense questions throughout the experience:

  • Is there a reason the hostess walked me over to this table, instead of the larger one in the corner?
  • How do I know that the person who cooked my meal doesn’t have a hacking cough?
  • What’s the difference between broiled and grilled, and do they say grilled even when they know it was broiled?
  • Why do they call it marinara sauce, anyway?

Back home, your wife calls, “Honey, could you come up here for a minute?” and you start thinking:

  • Did I leave the cap off the toothpaste again?
  • What if she asks whether that green dress makes her posterior look big? I’m not good at lying.
  • Why can’t she ever walk downstairs to where I am sitting? Why do I always have to go up to her?
  • Was I right to marry Matilda?

You are constantly evaluating different options, struggling to refine your weekly piece into something worthy of the hallowed 60 Minutes moniker. While other people see that critical 20-page memo, you see the paper clip that holds it together. It’s not really a clip, more a piece of wire that’s been bent a few times. How many miles and miles of wire have they bent so far, say, in the 92 years you’ve been alive? Enough to go to Mars and back? Jupiter? What has happened to those 301 million miles of wire?

Critics deride your job, saying all you do is whine about minor annoyances, but they don’t understand the pressures of having to be critical week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade. Anyone can complain; you critique.

You are the Jerry Seinfeld of the Geritol set. If only you had thought to hire Julia Louis-Dreyfus, you’d be filthy stinking rich today, instead of merely very rich.

For that matter, why do people like that Seinfeld character, anyway? All he does is whine…