Chair
Why not tell a story. It’s kind of a dumb one, but it’s my story, so I can tell it. November 10, 2008, I was invited by an Apple employee who is also a friend—let’s call him Scutt Flimpson—to visit the campus. Scutt was kind enough (that day) to let me be a stupid gawking pantspeeing dork while visiting what I considered hallowed grounds. For lunch, we hit Caffe Macs.
Trying to be non-chalant around a bunch of computer people on lunch break from making amazing things, I walked by Steve, just sitting there with a colleague on the patio, having a lunch meeting.
I went inside, ordered a burrito. Scutt and I carried our trays in search of an empty table. Walked outside, Steve and his colleague had left their table and it was now unoccupied. I didn’t have to say a word to Scutt. He knew, and took a seat where the colleague was.
First I took a picture of the man’s chair. Then I sat in it. Then I ate my burrito. It tasted like a pretty good burrito. Then, I’ll never forget what I did next. I used products made by the man’s company and tried my best to embody the spirit with which they were made, every day for the rest of my life.
Steve is a hero to me. I don’t work for him, but consider him my leader. He will always be with me.
