Category: A Day in the Life (Page 3 of 10)

Ten years ago, at this time, I was experiencing one of the biggest rushes of my life. No, I’m not talking about my marriage (though that’s a big one), nor the birth of my children (also up there). In fact, this rush doesn’t compare to either of those. But it’s important, because I shared it with several hundred of my closest friends. I’m talking about the launch of Apple’s first iPhone.

When the iPhone was first announced, the Apple faithful (which included pretty much everyone with whom I worked, since I worked at an Apple Store) were reasonably excited. Very, very excited. We were like kids waiting for Santa Jobs to bring us a Buddha’s Day present (I know that’s not a thing). Shortly after the announcement, my wife sent Steve an email, asking him to please not have the release of the iPhone on our wedding day, that October. I like to believe he listened to her.

Regardless, the day came on June 29th, and we were all bouncing off the walls. We closed the store so we could unbox the new toy, put it out on display, and (for the Genius team and a few others) play with a couple so that we could answer questions about them. One decade ago, today, was the first time I ever dropped an iPhone.

The well-worn shirt I wore, leading up to launch day.

I was turning it over in my hand, marveling at how the engineers had managed to compress a computer more powerful than the original Mac into such a small form factor (compare it to today’s iPhone, and the original is so fat). It slipped through my fingers, hit the floor, and slid to the center of the room. Everyone in the Genius Room got really quiet and looked first at the iPhone lying face down on the concrete, and then at me. I walked over to the nearly $1000 pocket computer and reached down to pick it up.

I fully expected the glass to be shattered, as I flipped it over. I was more than a little relieved to find there was nary a scratch on it. I gladly passed the device to someone else, thankful I didn’t have to explain that one to a manager.

We opened the door a couple hours later and the crowds rushed in to pick up their own. We sold and sold until we were all physically exhausted, but still mentally wired. It would still be some time before any of us got to take one home for our own, but we didn’t care. We had experienced the launch of a product that would rival the Mac in its importance to pushing technology forward. It’s a day I will never forget, not only because of my new technological friend, but because of all the human ones with whom I got to experience its birth.

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It was my junior year of high school. I had just arrived at my locker for the day when my friend, Aaron, approached me. He was wearing all black.

“Grunge is dead,” he said to me.

“What?” I replied.

“Soundgarden broke up,” he explained. “Grunge is dead.”

Twenty years later, he got one step closer to being right.

As I’m sure most of you are aware by now, Chris Cornell died today.

Twenty years ago, one of my best friends in the world reminded me of the importance of a band like Soundgarden and its frontman. That same friend saw him this past Sunday, in concert, in Kansas City. I found out about the concert too late to attend and missed it. I feel like I might regret that for some time. My devotion to music as a medium has wavered, in the last few years. It has become more and more difficult for me to listen, simply due to work and having a shitty car with a shitty stereo (podcasts played off my phone sound great, but music doesn’t have the impact it should). As a result, I missed a lot of great music in the last 5 years or so.

Today, I pulled out my headphones, plugged them in, and let the music flow. I discovered entire albums I’d never heard and enjoyed lyrics from one of the great poets of our time, stretched across that unique vocal range Cornell had. It was wonderful. I listened to old favorites and fantastic covers and new works that proved that neither age, depression, nor drugs had dulled the mind of one of the greatest of greats of my childhood.

Cobain. Staley. Weiland. And now, Cornell.

Stay strong, Eddie. We need you now, more than ever. Someone needs to pass the torch to the next generation, before it’s dropped and lost forever.

A writer friend of mine, yesterday, asked for suggestions on drugs that could be used to render a person unconscious when taken orally, but for a relatively short period of time ( about an hour). Many friends, myself included, responded with a variety of drugs that could plausibly be used for such a purpose, especially with a little creative writing (something at which Lezlie excels).

After, she mentioned that she wasn’t sure if she should feel comforted or disturbed. So, not one to let such conflicting emotions leave so vexatious a feeling upon her mind, I invented a new emotion that combined the two. Using this quote by John Kenneth Galbraith, I fittingly appropriated his name:

galbraith
transitive verb  |  gal·braith  |  \’gal- brāth\
1. to instill a sense of simultaneous comfort and discomfort • “Her surprise visit to find me at this secluded cabin that I never told her about has me very galbraithed.”

Anyway, I don’t know that it will catch on. But I’m keeping it here, just in case future generations want to know the etymology of the word that best describes the comfortably familiar hellscape they live in after we’ve gone.

I wrote this post months ago and never published it for whatever reason. I’m posting it now, as it’s still relevant, but it was written back in February.

So, I found this pretty awesome website a couple months back, but never set aside the time to check it out. It’s a story written by William Boyd that is pretty fucking sweet. Sort of a paranoia thriller, it looks like. I’m only through the first chapter.

Anyway, the website scrolls the text over background images and movies while it’s narrated by the main character. You can click on certain key words to get access to additional images and whatnot. Not all of them, but sometimes.

Of course, it was paid for by Land Rover, so one of the key words in the first chapter brought up photos people had posted to Twitter of their Land Rover with a certain hashtag. But other than that, it’s pretty awesome:

https://thevanishinggame.wellstoried.com

You can also pick it up for the Kindle or as an Audible book at Amazon for free.

Or, if you prefer, you can pick it up as an interactive iBook for the Mac or iPad.

Or just as a straight epub for iPhone.

Yesterday, the Los Angeles Times posted a story containing two Spotify playlists hand-picked by President Obama. Since I don’t use Spotify, I decided I would rebuild the playlists in Apple Music so that I could listen to them there. Since I went to all that trouble, I figured I’d also share them with anyone else that was interested. So, here you go.

The President’s Summer Playlist: Day

The President’s Summer Playlist: Night