Start of second chapter.

May 2^nd, 2004. 6am.

Matt woke up with a start. He had woken up six times in the last five hours and checked the clock beside his bed, each time realizing that he still had a few more precious hours left to sleep. Though he had finally managed get to sleep eight hours before, it was a tortured sleep, marred by nightmares of over-sleeping so intense that he had actually broken into a cold sweat. Today was the day. The day he would finally come face to face with Trent Wallace. He checked the alarm clock again, and immediately his heart started pounding, his head spinning. Such was the impact that the flashing lights had on Matt’s state of mental well-being. Flashing. 12:00AM. If a personal message from Satan had appeared on the digital display Matt would have welcomed it more warmly. The power. It had gone off. When? He must have been awake for at least two thirds of the night, Matt thought as he flung himself out of bed. His wrist watch said 6:30am. Forty-five minutes later than scheduled, he realized. He could feel his heart banging against his ribcage like some biological drum gone amok. He cast a furtive glance at his backup alarm, knowing already that it had been hit with the same plague. The bus left in 20 minutes.

Five minutes later, after a rushed shower, and he was loathed to rush his showers, Matt was at the breakfast table inhaling a bowl of cornflakes. Two minutes after that, Matt was in his room, panting after climbing the stairs three at a time. So much for all the football training, he thought angrily. He dressed in record time, and congratulated himself for having presence of mind to lay everything out the night before. Ten minutes left, he thought and began to relax slightly. He had printed out his questions for Mr. Wallace, for while this day was considered a prize, the opportunity to interview Trent Wallace was one that Matt, as the school newspaper’s editor-in-chief, could not pass up. His carefully scripted questions were Matt’s best work to date; tactful yet pointed, witty yet unobtrusive. With his father’s worn leather briefcase in one hand, and Pulitzer-prize worthy notes in the other, Matt flew down the stairs and decided he had time for a coffee. Matt’s faithful seven year old Golden Retriever Sammy awoke and rushed to say good-morning. In seven short years Sammy had become the most beloved member of the family. With her easy demeanour and bright auburn coat, Sammy never hurt for attention, and this morning she demanded it from Matt. Her nose muzzled into his calf. Matt couldn’t resist. While bending down to pat her, Matt lost control of his coffee cup. Though he rescued the mug, he couldn’t do the same for his best shirt, which was now blighted by an ugly brown stain. Unbelievable, thought Matt, and took off again for his room. Armed with a new white shirt, power-red coloured tie, pin-striped charcoal suit, and five minutes to spare, Matt raced out the door, looking every bit the part of a typical Wall Streeter.

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There is more, but it only gets worse, and I shall not be posting it for fear of irreparable damage to my reputation.
More average blogging to follow.
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The first chapter

June 17^th, 1987.

It was a warm summer night, quiet but for the occasional shrill outburst of excited sparrows, who according to Matt Parker’s dad held their singing practice at the same time every day. Five year old Matt lay on his back and stared wide-eyed. His brother and father did the same next to him. The sky was a bruised purple, with streaks of pink that collided to paint a sunset that would delight any master impressionist. Diamond stars pierced the dark sky like cosmic beacons, beckoning the wishes and hopes and dreams of all those fortunate enough to gaze upon them. This was Matt’s favourite time of day. An enthusiastic star-gazer, his father Alan would take Matt and his older brother John to the roof, where they would spend hours pointing out their favourite constellations, and discussing their days. It was the time of day where each one of them forgot their problems, and truly enjoyed one another’s company. Both boys idolized their dad, and it showed. Tonight’s conversation was serious. Alan sighed deeply, lay back on his mat and started. Both boys knew his tone of voice so well. This was his serious tone, and they listened intently.

“You see Venus up there?”

Both boys nodded; it was their favourite planet. Alan had told them how early mariners used the planet, known as the morning and evening star, to guide their ships through bristling, stormy seas. The fact that it had a surface temperature of 482 degrees Celsius cemented its legendary status for the boys.

“Well, tell me, does it look like it’s moving?”

“No”, came the subdued reply.

“The fact is boys, Venus moves around its orbit at an average speed of 35 km per second. Not per hour, per second!”

Alan waited for his words to have the desired effect, and then continued.

“So, what’s my point?”

Matt shrugged and looked at his dad expectantly. “Venus moves fast?”

Alan laughed. “Not quite, son, but that is part of it.” In fact Alan hadn’t yet decided the point himself. He loved imparting his philosophies on his sons, but tonight he was drawing a blank. And then it came to him.

“You see, it’s the same thing with life. Life is moving quickly, as fast as Venus, but we don’t see it. To most of us, life never changes, it doesn’t move. But every second that passes, every minute that we’re sitting on the roof talking, life is…happening. Life is happening. And you’ve got to take advantage of every minute of it, every second. Conquer your fears, have no regrets. Follow your hearts and pursue your dreams with all you’ve got. Most people don’t realize how precious every second is, but it is precious, and you must not waste it.”

Alan stopped himself before he got carried away. Matt looked at his dad and thought he detected a hint of sadness in his smile. He put his tiny arm around his dad and smiled. Seeing his sons’ smiles had become one of the moments Alan cherished most.

“Dinner’s getting cold!” came the familiar shout from deep within the house. One of Kate Parker’s particular foibles was insisting that everyone be seated around the table to eat dinner every night. That was just how proper families behaved. But she knew how important these summer nights on the roof were to her boys, and resignedly dished up dinner for herself, put the remainder into the warming drawer, and retired to the couch to watch TV.

The boys spent another hour on the roof that night, talking, laughing and telling stories. It was a night Matt would remember for the rest of his life.

It was the last time he saw his father alive.

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Have a good weekend folks.

the story of ez4ne1

Very few of you actually know what ez4ne1 refers to. Some of you might want to forget. Regardless, here it comes, returning to haunt you for the rest of your days.

p.s. for those in the dark, ez4ne1 occurred when three brilliant young minds (yes, I am modestly including myself) joined to create a revolutionary website back in 2000, with the sole purpose of making them filthy rich. Unfortunately, it was ahead of its time. Here is a saved page:
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The Story Of ez4ne1.com

No one ever explains their reasons for creating a website, but we thought that by doing so we could give you, our visitor, a unique understanding of our whole philosophy. So here it is (insert drum roll here):

It was a balmy summer afternoon and we were doing what most upstanding young adults do during their vacation: figuring out ways to end world hunger, save the whales, promote world peace, the usual. However, after a couple of hours of brainstorming, we realized that organizing food drops into obscure African countries and pestering harpoon-bearing Japanese whale hunters in the Pacific, while heroic, would force us to miss too many episodes of Survivor. Moral ideals deflated, we headed inside to surf the Internet.

After an hour of blissful surfing, we realized how much fun we were having: listening to music, watching movies, emailing friends from around the world, playing online games, shopping… And then it struck us.

Our parents, having grown up in an Internet-less era where computers were the size of small apartments, had no idea how to use the Internet. Without the benefit of growing up around computers, our parents and their friends were missing out on something that would soon become such an integral part of everyday life.

We asked our parents and their friends if an Internet site devoted to helping them learn about the Internet would interest them. Their answer, a resounding, “yes, please help us!” gave us the incentive we needed to start our project.

The result is what you now see before you, a site that will help learn how to do everything you’ve ever wanted to do on the Internet. And have fun while doing it!

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Brilliant, huh!

Movies, again.

I recently saw The Sentinel. I went in knowing precious little about the movie, which is strange considering I tend to be the first one entrapped by the waves of hype surrounding every new release these days. Firstly, I must say I am not a movie snob. I get that some films are just meant to be fun, action rides. I loved Deep Blue Sea. Saw it twice in theatres in one 4 day stretch (I know, unbelievable.) I liked the Transporter - even though it's a trashy action piece, it did it's job well. The Italian Job, Face Off, The Rock...etc. I could go on but you get my drift. I'm establishing my pedigree.

The Sentinel aims to be a solid thriller. It was probably pitched as "The Fugitive meets In The Line Of Fire". You can see what Michael Douglas liked in the script - he plays a hero who is smarter than the rest, sleeping with someone else's hot wife, is wrongfully accused of a deed early on and spends the rest of the movie trying to prove his innocence. Sound familiar? Yeah the Fugitive. Also, he's an aging secret service agent protecting the President. Sound familiar? That's right. In the Line of Fire. However, the Sentinel is not even worth renting. It's formulaic and trashy. The plot is silly - it compares unfavourably to "24" which is miles ahead of this in terms of tension and plot twists. This movie tries to be the great thriller that we fondly remember from 10 years ago. But I'd sooner rewatch "The Net" - you know,the Sandra-Bullock-is-a-computer-nerd-with-no-life thriller. Want political intrigue? You won't find it here - you're better off renting "The Interpreter".

I'm a big fan of Michael Douglas (except when he's evading me in New York restaurants), so this was a let down. Kiefer Sutherland, bad career move (he plays a tough secret service agent). Way to type-cast yourself. Eva Longoria...she's so amazingly hot, I could care less about her wooden acting.

Before you leave, look at this poster. This is marketing perfection.

And the one movie I'm most looking forward to is...

MI:1 Great. MI:2 Passable entertainment. MI:3 The one movie I can't wait to see.
You all know I like spy movies. Advance footage looks unbelievable, and people are going crazy about the advance screenings.

Anybody with me?

A little Nachtmusik

Sometimes you hear a piece of music that touches you. It might be while hearing one of your favourite bands live. A certain lyric that is deeply meaningful for you. Or a guitar riff that is played with such passion that it gives you goosebumps. Or a song that floods you with memories of a certain moment in time. Whatever it is, music has the power to inspire. What brings about this little discussion? Strangely enough, American Idol. I'm a fan of the show, and I realized tonight it's all because of the music. It's not because I want to hear Simon Cowell say something like, "If went to the toilet, picked up my morning stool in my bare hands, and forced it to sing, it would give a better performance than the one you just gave." That being said, he is a major force behind the show's popularity. Just imagine replacing him with another Paula.

There are a lot of talented singers this year. The one that outshone the rest tonight was Katherine McPhee (or whatever her name is). She sang "Someone to watch over me", which for some bizarre reason I recall Miss Piggy singing in an episode of the Muppets some 15 odd years ago (random fact of the week). Although I'm not a huge fan of the song, she was simply outstanding, and I was actually moved.

Here are other outstanding pieces of music/songs that have struck a chord with me (no pun intended):

1) Indiana Jones theme.
2) Tracy Chapman - Fast Car
3) Theme music from "The Living Daylights" (Bond)
4) "Pure Imagination" - Gene Wilder (Music from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) You know, the song in the Glass Elevator.

"IF YOU WANT TO VIEW PARADISE
SIMPLY LOOK AROUND AND VIEW IT
ANYTHING YOU WANT TO, DO IT
WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD
THERE'S NOTHING
TO IT"

5) Guitar solos from New Year's Day, With or Without You - performed by the Edge.
6) Theme from SA production of Shaka Zulu - must have been 18yrs since I saw it, but I remember it.
7) Great Heart - Johnny Clegg
8) Chan Chan - Buena Vista Social Club
9) We are the champions - Queen (Nerds! Nerds! Nerds! Nerds!) Obscure reference alert.
10) Chariots of Fire - Vangelis

Anyhow I could go on, but I am surely boring you to tears. If you have any musical memories, feel free to share 'em.

PEACE.

Summer

This blog will be scattered so bare with me.

I have to say I can't believe how quickly the last 8 months or so have flown by. I mean I literally can't believe it. My trip to Cali seems like it just happened a few weeks ago, but no, that was July 2005. It seems like as I get older, the years rush by quicker, and that's pretty fucking cruel. Around the exact same time when age finally becomes an issue, time speeds up. Ha, the irony of it all! Someone said that youth is wasted on the young, and I think that's just brilliant. Just imagine if you knew what you knew now, when you were younger (I believe I've just plagiarised some song lyric). Hell, you'd be set. That being said however, it's all relative. Five years from now I'll be saying "damn, I wish I knew (insert random fact) 5 years ago. I'd be set!" So I guess the point is to stop living in the past, and concentrate on today. Keep living and learning and make sure you have no regrets. That way you won't sit around 5 years from now and think about what you could have done had you more guts and chutzpah. Now if only I could just take the advice I spew so relentlessly.

Summer has almost arrived and I am really pumped. Nothing beats sitting on a patio drinking with friends. Or playing sports outside. And who can forget that old benefit of summer, girls in tank tops. I've signed up for soccer and frisbee so that should keep me out of trouble.

Saw a good little movie recently "Thank You For Smoking". Smart, funny and well written...my type of flick. Check it out if you can.

Books:

"The Good Earth" - Pearl Buck. Well written and engaging tale about pre-revolutionary China - mainly the story about a simple farmer's life, with a healthy dose of Chinese culture. Pulitzer prize winner.

And I think that's about enough randomness for tonight. I'm having trouble finding topics to write about, as you might have noticed. If there's something interesting you'd like me to write about, let me know.

Taking a break

I apologize for the lack of blogging. Life is catching up to me. (I don't know exactly what that means.) I will be back next week, possibly even sooner. In the meantime, I wish you all a Chag Sameach. Have a tremendously fulfilling weekend.
ciao amigos.

If you never reach for your dreams, they'll always be out of reach.

OK, so if you haven't read the previous blog, now would be the time...this is my response:

Successful people are always telling you that in order to become as successful as they are, you have to follow your dreams. You have to listen to your heart. You need to do something that truly makes you happy. These people are actors, sports stars, businessmen - the elite in their particular field. Like Steve Jobs said, you need to love what you do. The logic is that if you have a passion for your work, it no longer becomes work. And when that happens you put more energy and effort into it than ever before. Boom - you're successful, rich and famous, dating Natalie Portman and cruising the world in your magnificent yacht. Fantastic. Now what about reality. The reality is no one ever grows up saying they want to be an accountant (sorry, SAJ!). The reality is no 5 year old boy lies back in their bed and dreams of one day becoming an assistant to the office manager of some third-rate plastic bag manufacturer. Ditto for secretaries, taxi drivers, telemarketers and dentists and pretty much any other "normal" profession out there. You'll never hear "Mommy! You know that man who drilled holes in my teeth until the pain was so bad I wanted to poke out his eyes with a corkscrew? I want to be him when I grow up!" Most people don't follow their dreams. In fact, forget loving what you do, very rarely do you meet someone who actually likes what they do.

Now, there's a bias here. The only people who have the opportunity to tell you to "love what you do" are the people who actually became successful at loving the things they do. You don't hear from the 1 million wannabe actors working dead end waiter jobs in L.A hoping for their big break. You don't hear about the guy who quit the family business and trained to be an astronaut for 8 years, only to be told he wasn't NASA material. You don't hear about the guy who tried to be a hockey star until a brutal injury forced him out of a crucial playoff game which would have brought him national exposure. You simply don't hear from them. Because, like the majority of dream chasers, they took their shot, and they failed. Now they're penniless and desperate and cursing the unnamed hero of theirs who in a moment of glory uttered the famous words "Reach for your dreams. Follow your heart, do what you love."

Now I'm really not a total cynic at heart; I'd like to believe that your dreams can come true. The simple fact is that in today's society the odds of this happening are stacked against you. From a young age we're told to be sensible. We're taught to think within the lines. We're reprimanded for adventurous behaviour. By the time we reach university we're brainwashed. Instead of studying what we love, we study what is sensible. But by this time you think you're making the decisions when in fact the decision was never yours in the first place. You take the route that most people take, because it's safe. And you land up years later with a safe career, the nice wife who you attracted with your stable career choice, and your 3.5 kids who you provide for with your stable income.

Now, who's better off? The actor-wannabe, who though happy he's "living his dream", is now in his thirties, working for minimum wage, and contemplating a move back to his parent's house in 6 months? Or you. You've accepted a career you don't like, in a profession you never wanted to be in. Your life is not as exciting as you once hoped it could be. Every day is becoming a grind. But you have money and a future. Now the people we look up to may say if you never reach for your dreams they will always be out of reach (actually, I just said that, and I kind of like it). But there's always another side to the story. How about this: if everyone followed their dreams, we'd have a society of astronauts and fashion models and actors and racecar drivers and cowboys and athletes and pornstars. Nothing would ever get done, society would grind to a halt and chaos would ensue. And because no wealth would be created, no one would have enough money to buy Steve Job's i-Pods or Mac computers. In fact, he'd be bankrupt. So Stevie, before you mouth off to some college grads in the future, think a little.

I could go on, and maybe I will at some later point, because I really didn't get across my thoughts too clearly. I think you need to challenge yourself, you need to take risks to avoid a stagnant and unfulfilling life. But at what cost?

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I think my dream career would be screenwriter, or movie director. Should I pursue it? Or am I at 27 yrs old, over the hill? But, alas, that is a story for another time. Have a good one kids, and feel free to comment.

PEACE.

A slack week

It's been a slack week for blogging, I'll be the first to admit it.

Here's a thought provoking speech from Steve Jobs to waste some time today:

Do what you love

'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.

Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky – I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me – I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

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.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
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 other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.

Authors Details: This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005.

My future wife

OK, so turns out Natalie Portman is in town shooting a movie with Dustin Hoffman. I know this because first my sister bumped into "Rain Man" himself in Yorkville. And then one of my bro's friends Steve bumped into Natalie in Yorkville too. Apparently tiny Natalie was walking a tiny dog, right past Steve. Bewildered, he stopped her. This was their 2 minute conversation (p.s. this is probably not exactly how it went but you get the gist of it).
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Steve: Hey, are you Natalie Portman?
Nat: Yes. ( I assume she smiles that movie star smile.)

Pause. Natalie starts walking away.

Steve: Hey Natalie, hold on a sec. I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Steve X.
Nat: Hi, Steve X, nice to meet you.
Steve: That's amazing.

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Now, I'm not sure what happened after that, but it'll be a variation on the old "after an awkward pause she politely said goodbye" theme. I'm not sure what would've happened had I met her. It would most likely be one of the following :
a) too shocked to move, I stare silently until she is out of sight, then quietly say "hey Natalie, nice to meet you." I know, sad.
b) get down on one knee and say "Natalie, you were born to be my wife". Then, for lack of a ring, pull out a lifesaver and jam it on her tiny finger. "I now pronounce you my wife."
c) pretend faint right in front her in the hope that she'll give me mouth to mouth.

Good Natalie movies: The Professional; Beautiful Girls; Closer; V for Vendetta and Garden State. Go see them.

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P.S Guess where I'm going this weekend? Um, yeah. Yorkville baby!