A Job Like No Other

It's rare when I'm affected by the death of a celebrity. Like everyone else, athletes and actors die all the time. We're reminded of this every year during the Academy Awards and Old Timer's Day when they call our attention to the "In Memorium" montage.

I'm saddened for about a minute or so, possibly ask a few friends if they knew that so-and-so died, and then quickly move on.

Steve Jobs died last week. And everything feels different.

He wasn't related to us, and very few had a chance to even meet him. And yet, it felt like you lost a member of your family. In a way, we actually did. Let's face it, we all see our Ipods, Ipads, and Macs every day. We can't make the same claim for most of our cousins, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. It's sad, but c'mon. Some of these apps are much more entertaining than members of our families.

Steve was a deity. Fans of Apple often looked and sounded like religious disciples. You'd see them on line in front of an Apple store eagerly waiting to be allowed in just to touch the latest Apple device. At an even higher level, we'd watch the media flooding Macworld with baited breath, clamoring to report on the next product launch.

Jobs would walk out on stage, and to many, it was like God appeared. And he was wearing glasses, which made sense because God probably read a lot. It was as if Moses came down from the mountain. Ironically, they both carried tablets. He spoke about the future in a way that no one else could. He told us what we needed in order to move forward. As a people, we listened.

When we look back at what he affected, the results are staggering. The music business, the movie business, publishing, gaming, telecommunications, computer hardware and software. In other words, he touched anything he wanted without having to rest on the seventh day.

Many of us were informed of his death on the devices he created. It seemed fitting and slightly eerie, as if Jobs was communicating from the other side. I read about it on my Ipad. I was asleep on the train. A CNBC alert beeped and I awoke. And although it wasn't a surprise to anyone, it wasn't any less painful.

After all, who's going to guide us forward now? It won't be a President, Warren Buffet, or Oprah. Their is no heir apparent.

When Jobs died, a piece of us died too - - Hope. Somehow, Steve managed to get us through the next season. There would be rumours of new discoveries, there would be rumours about new solutions to problems that were currently unknown. There would be rumours about rumours. And this sustained us. We looked forward to presentations and press conferences; something that rarely happens with our own President. Looking forward to the next announcement harkened back to a simple time, centuries ago, when communities received their news from the town crier.

For a short time, it was nice. Jobs suggested that we "Think Different."

From now on, we'll have to.

"Appy New Year"

I remember a time, and not so long ago, that a discussion about "apps" had to do with whether or not you wanted to share the potato skins or the mozzarella sticks. Naturally, this was long before appetizers like kobe beef on toast, and California rolls became de riguer.

In today's vernacular, apps have taken on a whole new meaning. Thanks to the proliferation of Apple's I-phone and I-touch, thousands of developers have created these app-lications that enable users to play games, get directions, buy stock, order dinner, play blackjack, listen to radio stations and much more. As the commercial says, there truly is an app for just about everything.

But are apps for everyone?

I didn't think so at first. The earliest adopters just wanted to be the new kids on the block. Soon after, these groupies gave way to a more mainstream demographic who viewed apps on their mobile devices as pieces from a living toy box with I-tunes itself being Toys R Us on crack.

It wasn't until I bought my 9-year old daughter her first I-touch that I truly realized the awe inducing power of the app. She navigated through the App Store as if she had been born inside, quickly moving from game to game and downloading her favorites. In a matter of minutes, she had collected 20 apps and had her eye on several more. How could something so new to her be so natural? Simplicity. Even a caveman can do it.

These applications are more than just mere child's play. They may be the second coming of the internet boom. In the 90's, every brick and mortar entity had to have a website. High speed internet was dawning, and those who didn't have a web extension would be left for dead. But the sexy, new arrival in town is the mobile device and now every website has to have an app. In fact, these applications may soon be the primary portals to the internet itself.

One day, my daughter will ask me why I ever owned a stationary computer and about the wire that was attached to it.