My first computer was the original 128K Mac, and I’ve been a Mac-fanatic ever since. I carried it home cradled in my arms like a baby, and typed a book into it that night. (128 K!)
Mac and I have been joined at the hip ever since. I wouldn’t be a writer without it.
Steve Jobs made Macs personal, and I think that’s one reason his death is so upsetting: the feeling was mutual. We felt he knew and understood us — “got” us — and we were more than grateful to him for it. He gave us tools to think and connect, but most of all — to create.
We loved his humour, his creativity and smarts. He knew what we wanted and needed before we did.
We were his tribe, and he was our leader. Still is.
Can you read this blog post without blubbering? (I can’t.)