Goodbye, Mr. Jobs

I too watched the iPhone 4S presentation streamed on the internet. Apple CEO Tim Cook's solitary appearance at the Cupertino event said it all. It wasn't the absence of the iPhone5, and the silence that seemed to hung over the event, that disappointed; it was the absence of Mr. Steve Jobs that made it somehow feel like a posthumous event.
The next day we were officially informed of what we already knew-- Mr. Jobs has left the building; his Mac monitor is dark; his keyboard silent. His St. Croix black mock turtleneck, his faded Levi's 501s, his Lunor Classic Round glasses and his New Balance 991s stowed away in some dark place. But, for those of us who religiously anticipate and watch each keynote address it was no surprise. We saw Mr. Jobs progressively withering away. At the iCloud keynote last June, we saw him, gaunt as an Arab freedom fighter, moving about the stage like a spindly mantis stalking a fly; shaky, wobbly, rickety; his turtleneck bunched up against his shriveled body as if it hanged on a clothesline on a windy day.

And then it happened. He disappeared. Like Obi-Wan Kenobi disappearing under Darth Vader's light saber blade to become a spirit in the Force, Mr. Jobs transformed to pure thought, an idea; disembodied from the material world; digitized; and will continue to be in future iterations of the iPod, iPhone, iPad, iBook, iMac and the next cool gadget we never thought before we'd ever need or want.

              And as the flames climbed high into the night
              To light the sacrificial rite
              I saw Satan laughing with delight
              The day the music died