In case you haven’t noticed, I am insanely interested in Steve Jobs. This man was amazing. I really……really wanted to bump into him someday. Just to say hi. And thanks for the fish…..I mean, cool stuff. Life changing stuff. World changing stuff. iPod. Mac. iPad. iPhone. Computers that run without the need for virus protection. I could go on all day.
Steve’s sister had some amazing words and stories about him….
Even as a feminist, my whole life I’d been waiting for a man to love, who could love me. For decades, I’d thought that man would be my father. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother.
By then, I lived in New York, where I was trying to write my first novel. I had a job at a small magazine in an office the size of a closet, with three other aspiring writers. When one day a lawyer called me — me, the middle-class girl from California who hassled the boss to buy us health insurance — and said his client was rich and famous and was my long-lost brother, the young editors went wild. This was 1985 and we worked at a cutting-edge literary magazine, but I’d fallen into the plot of a Dickens novel and really, we all loved those best. The lawyer refused to tell me my brother’s name and my colleagues started a betting pool. The leading candidate: John Travolta. I secretly hoped for a literary descendant of Henry James — someone more talented than I, someone brilliant without even trying.