Goodbye, Mr. Jobs

Stephen Jobs (February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011): inventor, visionary, innovator, master showman, cancer survivor, cancer victim.

I've never owned a computer that wasn't an Apple. I still have, somewhere here in the chaos that is my basement office, one of the Macintosh models pictured above. I've kept it. It's not worth anything, and the software to run it is long gone, but I kept it because I felt that it was an important machine, and I'm not all that fond of machines. Yet there it is, sitting on a bookshelf, looking just like the ones in the picture.

My tiny I-Pod is in my car, waiting until I go to the gym tomorrow, when I'll plug it in my ears to ease the psychic pain of the elliptical trainer. I'm typing this blog on my wireless Apple keyboard, into my latest Mac: OS 10.6.8. It's about the size of a square paperback book.

Of course, I could go on and on. 

Steve Jobs has touched the lives of billions around the world. His machines and inventions, like Pixar, have enriched society in such a global way that his name has become synonymous not just with commerce, but with the narrow world that embraces creativity and commerce, ideas and production, financial and aesthetic success. 

Steve Jobs was somehow able to marry creative thinking with commercial success, beautiful design with titanic application. He was able to take on every challenge and solve them in the most elegant way possible.

Except the last one. He wasn't able to live long enough.