I’m writing this with a heavy heart. Well, typing might be the better description. I hardly ever actually write anything any longer. And if I really wanted to be exact, I would say that I’m typing this on my smartphone.
30 years ago this would have been unimaginable. I wrote almost everything. Even when I typed something on my old Olivetti, I wrote it first – since making corrections on the fly was time consuming and rarely came out right, anyway. 30 years ago a handheld device that could do everything this smartphone can didn’t exist, not even on Star Trek. 30 years ago, if I needed to make a call away from home I had to find a public phone – and pray I had a dime in my pocket. 30 years ago, video recorders were the size of a car battery (and just as heavy) and portable music consisted of tinny sounding radios. 30 years ago, computers took up an entire room. The idea of having one in every room in my house, along with one I can fit in my pocket, was unimaginable.
Unimaginable, except to one man who had the vision of making personal computing a reality. Over the next three decades his vision would transform the way the world communicates, interacts and thinks. That innovative spark would not only change the world as a whole, but change the future of one geeky, 16 year old from a sleepy little town on the Jersey shore. The way Steve Jobs envisioned the way the world could work fired my imagination and led me into a career in tech.
So, you’ll pardon me if I occassionally break into tears over the next day or so. When Mr. Jobs passed away earlier this evening, the world may have lost the greatest technologist since Thomas Edison. But I lost a hero.