Judy's Turn

I'm a PC and Steve Jobs Could Have Cared Less

Over the years, particularly the last 10, I've been ridiculed for my choice in internet browsing appliances (which is what a computer has become for me). It's been implied that I'm uncool or conservative - I've had to explain my choice to workmates, friends, and my kids. But, here's the deal - Steve didn't care. Because he knew better than anyone that eventually a device from Apple would make sense and I would purchase it.

As I look around my house filled with iPods and review my ATT phone bill that now has three iPhones on it, or check my email on my iPad in the morning, or trip over the MacBook that my daughter left on the floor in her room last night, it's pretty obvious that the genius of Steve's vision did indeed enter my sphere. He just focused on his vision and kept creating products that provided solutions for my life. Before I knew it, I was right where he knew I should be.

Don't get me wrong - from my earliest days in the tech business, Steve was my tech hero. So much so that after the birth of my first child in 1988, while job hunting, I didn't think about sending a resume to Apple. I wanted to work for Steve, so tried to get into NeXT. I wasn't successful and went to work for a bank (my job was to help bring down one system and bring in the IBM PC) and eventually dropped out of the workforce for several years while I raised our three kids. A PC has been all right for the contract jobs I've landed in the last 7 years, so I haven't bothered to switch. Yet.

I lost a very good friend to pancreatic cancer several years ago. The time between diagnosis and death was less than three months. As I saw pictures of Steve over the last few years, I couldn't help but feel that he was going to lose his battle soon. When my daughter's text announcing his death came to my iPhone yesterday, guess what I was doing? Waiting in my car for my other daughter to finish up school. And downloading an app.

Thank you Steve, for elegant design, for helping others create, for making my life easier. For caring about the big things. For your vision.

 

 

What is Really Real?

We just finished a really nice vacation in London and Paris. We went to some museums, tried to find local hangouts and ate good food. I was excited to take our youngest daughter with us, since she had never traveled out of the country. I was really looking forward to her reactions when she saw the magnificent old cathedrals and buildings. My first trip to Europe was in the 1980s and the first morning in Paris is a memory that stays with me still. Back then there was no Eurostar. From London, I took a mixture of bus, train and ferry to get to Paris. It was very early in the morning as I walked towards the old Opera House. I had never seen anything more beautiful.

My daughter did love Paris, but commented as we stood in the bright sunlight under the Eiffel Tower that she felt like she had been there before. It was familiar to her because she'd seen it in movies or videos so many times. I understood her thoughts. While researching this trip, I had watched countless YouTube travel videos highlighting neighborhoods and special places in Paris. When I saw them in real life, a bit of the wonder was diminished. I tried to have her imagine what it must have been like many years ago for visitors who had never seen any videos or images until they arrived. I could see her eyes begin to glaze as she anticipated a lecture on "the way things were in my day." For her, the 1980s are in the same league as the 1880s - really, really, long ago.

On our last evening, we said good-bye to our friends who live in Paris. We were sort of tired and sad and ready to go home. We decided to just ask our hotel for a recommendation for a restaurant and to take a long walk to it. As we rounded a corner onto a side street that was very pretty, a man was running towards us with a stick or cane, being followed by two other guys. There was a lot of screaming between them as they chased and ran. Things calmed down for a while and then the man with the stick decided to turn around and go after the other two guys. People on the street were starting to get worried that they might be struck or pushed by the three men as they ran arguing through the street. We kept walking and I said I felt that I was in the middle of a movie. Possibly The French Connection. But I didn't even mention to my daughter how this moment would be changed if I'd never seen a movie before. She'd never understand if I told her that the guy carrying the stick is now looking a lot like a young Gene Hackman in my memory.

I'm Bummed With the Academy

At this time every year, like many other people, I try to watch the major films that are showing potential for Academy Award nominations. Then, after the nominations are made public, I usually make sure that I've seen all the movies that are up for best picture. What's up with this year? How did the Academy miss nominating Clint for best actor in "Gran Torino"? He carried the movie and for sure he was the reason that the mostly inexperienced Hmong actors were believable. How often does an actor have to do that these days? Plus. he directed and sang the final song himself. What's up with that song not being nominated? How much fun would it have been to see and hear Clint growl through those lyrics on stage February 22?

Clint is an awesome actor and film maker. After "Million Dollar Baby" ended, I turned to my husband and said "that's the best movie that I'll never see again." It was just too much for me. On the other hand, I've watched "Unforgiven" several times just to see that scene where the young outlaw, the Schofield Kid, realizes he can't kill another man.

I've been a fan of Clint's since we used to watch reruns of his Spaghetti Westerns at college in the 1970s. He is so cool. Just like Walt Kowalski in "Gran Torino."

Happily Ever After for Book Club?

My book club reached its 10-year mark this month. To celebrate the occasion, we put an end to it. Most of us were not reading the books anymore. Of the 100 assigned books, I read about 50 of them, at best. Honestly, I didn't care for all the book selections. Some were too depressing, others too sci-fi for me. I craved a biography every now and then--never happened.

The big draw for the 10 women in our group was the camaraderie, food, and wine--in that order. I never saw or socialized with these women except at our monthly book club meetings. They belonged to another community where their social lives intertwined with their children's schools. I, on the other hand, live 10 miles away--different social life, different schools. It was refreshing for me to sit in a room, close to home,  with interesting women each month and not have to contend with social or school politics. It was perfect.

I remember one particular evening, filled with a lot of gossip and laughter, when the host's husband suggested we read People Magazine for our next club. You see, our club was always more social than literary. Other clubs in the surrounding communities thumbed their noses at us. But I have to tell you, we had the best food and wine by far. Actually, the wine was just OK, but the food more than made up for it. Judy tells me her club only offers cheese and crackers. I ask you, whose book club would you rather attend?

Sadly, my book club no longer exists. It's been revamped and retitled, The Wine and Cheese Crew. Beginning next month we'll be imbibing fine wines (I hope) and good food. Instead of reading books, we'll be reading wine labels. I'm bringing my latest issue of People, just in case.

You Want Change? How About Becoming Invisible?

We're hearing a lot about change this year from the Presidential candidates. Change can be welcome, scary, unexpected or inevitable. Each year, thousands of women in their late 40s to early 50s begin a journey that sometimes ends up in a change that they describe as "becoming invisible." Lensculture, an online magazine that celebrates international photography and culture,  highlights a traveling photographic exhibit, Photographic Self-Portraits by Women Aged 50-65  that will be in San Francisco from September 4 through October 10, 2008 at The Gallery at Rayko Photo Center.  Photos bring feelings that words just can't match sometimes. They make the invisible woman visible.