Bird On A Wire

God Speed Steve Jobs

2011-10-07T01:45:15Z

2008 – Apple CEO Steve Jobs holds up the new MacBook Air after giving the keynote address at the Apple MacWorld Conference in San Francisco. (AP Photo/Jeff Chiu, File)

“Steve’s brilliance, passion and energy were the source of countless innovations that enrich and improve all of our lives,” Apple’s board said in a statement. “The world is immeasurably better because of Steve” (via AP)

Steve Jobs, co-founder and former CEO of Apple Inc., passed away on Wednesday, October 5th, 2011 at the age of 56. He is survived by his biological mother; his sister Mona Simpson; Lisa Brennan-Jobs, his daughter with Brennan; wife Laurene, and their three children, Erin, Reed and Eve.

Steve was born on February 24th, 1955 in San Francisco, California. Adopted as an infant by Paul and Clara (née Hagopian) Jobs, Steven Paul Jobs attended Homestead High School in Cupertino, California. He begain working as a high-school student, at Hewlett-Packard where he met Steve Wozniak.

After graduating from high school in 1972, Jobs attended Reed College in Portland, Oregon, but dropped out after one semester, returning to California in 1974. There he became a member of the Homebrew Computer Club with his friend Steve Wozniak, and also worked at Atari, where he and Wozniak created a circuit board for the video game Breakout.

Brash and innovative, Jobs changed the world as we know it. Bringing us fun films like Toy Story (Pixar Entertainment) and most notably, the personal computer as we know it now, the Mac, ipod, the iphone, the ipad … and so much more. He told us what we needed, before we knew we needed it. His history and biography are written in more places than I can count.

He was an icon, a hero to an awesome boy and geeks the world over. To me he was an awesome individual, well spoken, empathetic, compassionate, honest. I had the profound privledge of meeting Steve Jobs late in my grad school years. A two hour “interview” in which we discussed adoption, life and ethics. You see we were both born the same year, a continent apart, both adopted and been through many of the same experiences. Rattled by being in the same room (yeah I was a groupie) it wasn’t much of a true interview. It was so much better, a true conversation with the man, who had brought so much technology into my life, who’d changed my life with that technolgy, but with whom I shared so much life experience. The full discussion we had exists now only on some digital tapes, since lost, but the highpoints still exist in my heart and in my mind.

These words from Steve Jobs at Stanford’s Commencement in 2005 hold such meaning….

“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything—all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure—these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice.”

So, farewell, my friend (I can call you that right?) . God Speed…

To infinity and beyond! (Buzz Lightyear, Toy Story 1995)

Stolen Time

2011-09-23T13:12:15Z

“It has been said, “time heals all wounds.” I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” — Rose Kennedy

Warning: This post is disjointed, spatial and full of reference. It is not meant for children. There is no timeline. Life as I know it has no time line only significant points of reference. My time line was stolen from me.

Knowing where to start to tell my truth as it needs be told is difficult. Knowing when to end it, not so much. There’s been a stir recently in my life, one I’d hoped I’d have avoided. Only I know the secrets of my truth.

Ten years have passed since my father died. A man I had huge feelings for. Much love. And nearly as much hate. He was for all his faults my father. And I owed him, during his life, respect. No matter.

There were times I didn’t feel quite so benevolent, trust me. Times when I was betrayed, when my spirit, my heart was broken.

There were secrets. Dirty little secrets. Secrets which ultimately brought me to the brink of emotional breakdown. Chased me from my home. Took me on a destructive path of alcohol, prescription medications and ultimately down the rabbit hole. And then back up again.

College was an escape. But nothing lasts forever.

To say that my ‘mother’ was blind to what was going on would slight her. Culmination came one early morning. I’d stumbled in only hours before from a full night of drinking and just snuggled into sleep before heading back to work on the afternoon shift. It was one of her more ‘interesting‘ episodes. She threw wooden coat hangers, had a typical southern conniption fit and in every way and very clearly told me to get the hell out of her house and away from there, right there and then. I was compliant. She left on one of her non stop spending sprees, I loaded my belongings into my car and went to work. No clue what I would do or where I would go from there. I cried. A lot. I finagled a place to stay with a friend for a few days, found a job in another city. Lost a wallet, and all the money in it.and my passport (my only form of id besides the missing driver license) and I drove.

No one looked for me. No one cared. I was gone. It should have stayed that way. I melted down.

Drug dazed and over intoxicated, I found myself in a hospital emergency room in some one horse New Mexico town. (charcoal administered via ng tube is not a holiday I can assure you) I’d tried to end the pain pleasantly. My traveling companion wasn’t quite as compliant as I’d hoped. He saved my life and sent me back to the hell I’d tried to escape. He didn’t know.

Two weeks in the cracker factory. Once I was medicated enough to feel better the fear set in. It was mostly a blur. Released, medicated and sent to therapy. Not much to talk about when you’re a zombie. Behind a cloud of fog. When all you want to do is wipe the dust from your vision. To feel. Anything. Anger would have been nice. I flushed the pills one sunny morning. I never looked back.

I learned to address what had caused my pain. I learned to avoid it. I learned to say NO. I stood up for myself. When no one else would.

Falling in love, something most young women do 14 to 15 times a week was something I’d never experienced. I’d had my fair share of crushes. I’d never loved.

And then, there was Charles. Truthfully I almost blew any chance with him one of the first times we ever went out. Totally stressed over something someone said about how I was dressed. Thought he’d never call again. He did. He was something else truly. Smart, crazy smart. He was a young medical student working through his internship at a local hospital. I fell. Head over heels. His mother, who had been widowed for most of her 60 odd years at that point, moved in with him. She taught me how to cook like a ‘yankee’. I showed off my southern skills. I was totally enamored. Ever the romantic, he made reservations at an upscale restaurant, did the whole one knee thing and asked me to marry him. I said yes. We were happy. He finished his internship, and moved back to his home state near family and friends to begin work as a resident. Plans for a simple bohemian wedding screeched to a halt when I received a phone call from his mother three weeks later. Charles had a massive heart attack and died during rounds at the hospital. I plodded through the fog of grief, to help his mother with arrangements, to settle his affairs, to bury him and travel back home. alone. 24 and a widow before I was a wife.

I cried. a lot. I drank. a lot. Damned near lost my job. A family friend stepped in, saved my job. I didn’t know then what it would cost. I can tell you now. And I will. When I can again breathe.

No Good Deed

2011-09-23T13:06:15Z

Now I see that going out into the testing ground of men it is the tongue and not the deed that wins the day. ~Sophocles

The signs were there. I ignored them. After all, these were my ‘friends’. (forgetting of course there are NO friends on the interwebz) And remembering in the back of my mind that Clare Booth Luce once said, No good deed goes unpunished. I forged through. Mind you I’m human and full of flaws. I’m aware of each and every one. So much so, that I almost never go out in public anymore. I never ever do videos. And my images on facebook, are limited to those I know in real life (though they too are often cruel). My facebook wall sits silent. My personal skype no longer buzzes with the familiar, let me ask you a question, what do you think?, haven’t heard from you in a while… do you have time? Because I chose to help a ‘friend’.

author’s note: I’m not asking for pity here. I do need to tell the tale. I will. But not today.