Your thoughts construct patterns like scaffolding in your mind.

Your thoughts construct patterns like scaffolding in your mind. You are really

etching chemical patterns. In most cases, people get stuck in those patterns,

just like grooves in a record, and they never get out of them.

 

I’ll always stay connected with Apple. I hope that throughout my life I’ll sort of

have the thread of my life and the thread of Apple weave in and out of each

other, like a tapestry. There may be a few years when I’m not there,

but I’ll always come back. . . .

Andy Hertzfeld had taken a leave of absence after the Macintosh came out in

1984. He needed to recharge his batteries and get away from his supervisor,

Bob Belleville, whom he didn’t like. One day he learned that Jobs had given out

bonuses of up to $50,000 to engineers on the Macintosh team. So he went to

Jobs to ask for one. Jobs responded that Belleville had decided not to give the

bonuses to people who were on leave. Hertzfeld later heard that the decision

had actually been made by Jobs, so he confronted him. At first Jobs equivocated,

then he said, “Well, let’s assume what you are saying is true. How does that

change things?” Hertzfeld said that if Jobs was withholding the bonus as a reason

for him to come back, then he wouldn’t come back as a matter

of principle. Jobs relented, but it left Hertzfeld with a bad taste.

If you want to live your life in a creative way, as an artist, you have to not

look back too much. You have to be willing to take whatever

you’ve done and whoever you were and throw them away.

The more the outside world tries to reinforce an image of you, the harder

it is to continue to be an artist, which is why a lot of times, artists have to say,

“Bye. I have to go. I’m going crazy and I’m getting out of here.” And they go

and hibernate somewhere. Maybe later they re-emerge a little differently.

With each of those statements, Jobs seemed to have a premonition that his

life would soon be changing. Perhaps the thread of his life would indeed weave

in and out of the thread of Apple’s. Perhaps it was time to throw away some

of what he had been.

 

Perhaps it was time to say

“Bye, I have to go,”

and then reemerge later,

thinking differently.

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One table featured software moguls, including Bill Gates and

One table featured software moguls, including Bill Gates and Mitch Kapor.

Another had old friends such as Elizabeth Holmes, who brought as her date

a woman dressed in a tuxedo. Andy Hertzfeld and Burrell Smith had rented

 

tuxes and wore floppy tennis shoes, which made it all the more memorable

when they danced to the Strauss waltzes played by the San Francisco

Symphony Orchestra.

 

Ella Fitzgerald provided the entertainment, as Bob Dylan had declined. She sang

mainly from her standard repertoire, though occasionally tailoring a song like

“The Girl from Ipanema” to be about the boy from Cupertino. When she asked

for some requests, Jobs called out a few. She concluded with

a slow rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

Sculley came to the stage to propose a toast to “technology’s foremost visionary.”

Wozniak also came up and presented Jobs with a framed copy of the Zaltair hoax

from the 1977 West Coast Computer Faire, where the Apple II had been introduced.

The venture capitalist Don Valentine marveled at the change in the decade since

that time. “He went from being a Ho Chi Minh look-alike, who said never trust

anyone over thirty, to a person who gives himself a fabulous thirtieth

birthday with Ella Fitzgerald,” he said.

Many people had picked out special gifts for a person w

ho was not easy to shop for.

Debi Coleman, for example, found a first edition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Last

Tycoon. But Jobs, in an act that was odd yet not out of character, left all of the

gifts in a hotel room. Wozniak and some of the Apple veterans, who did not take

to the goat cheese and salmon mousse that was served, met after

the party and went out to eat at a Denny’s.

“It’s rare that you see an artist in his 30s or 40s able to really contribute something

amazing,” Jobs said wistfully to the writer David Sheff, who published a long and

intimate interview in Playboy the month he turned thirty. “Of course, there are

some people who are innately curious, forever little kids in their

awe of life, but they’re rare.” The interview touched on

 

many subjects, but Jobs’s

most poignant ruminations

were about growing old

and facing the future:

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Jobs’s discomfort, with both the ad and the situation at

Jobs’s discomfort, with both the ad and the situation at Apple in

general, was on display when he traveled to New York in January to

do another round of one-on-one press interviews. Andy Cunningham,

 

from Regis McKenna’s firm, was in charge of hand-holding and logistics at the

Carlyle. When Jobs arrived, he told her that his suite needed to be completely

redone, even though it was 10 p.m. and the meetings were to begin the next day.

The piano was not in the right place; the strawberries were the wrong type.

 

But his biggest objection was that he didn’t like the flowers. He wanted calla lilies.

“We got into a big fight on what a calla lily is,” Cunningham recalled. “I know what

they are, because I had them at my wedding, but he insisted on having a different

type of lily and said I was ‘stupid’ because I didn’t know what a real calla lily was.” So

Cunningham went out and, this being New York, was able to find a place open at

midnight where she could get the lilies he wanted. By the time they got the room

rearranged, Jobs started objecting to what she was wearing. “That suit’s disgusting,”

he told her. Cunningham knew that at times he just simmered with undirected anger,

so she tried to calm him down. “Look, I know you’re angry, and I know how you feel,” she said.

“You have no fucking idea how I feel,” he shot back, “no fucking idea what it’s like to be me.”

Thirty Years Old

Turning thirty is a milestone for most people, especially those of the generation

that proclaimed it would never trust anyone over that age. To celebrate his own

thirtieth, in February 1985, Jobs threw a lavishly formal but also playful—black tie

and tennis shoes—party for one thousand in the ballroom of the St. Francis Hotel in

San Francisco. The invitation read, “There’s an old Hindu saying that goes, ‘In the first

30 years of your life, you make your

habits. For the last 30

years of your life,

your habits make you.’

Come help me celebrate mine.

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“When you throw stones at a rat, beware of the vase

Guan Yu was still angry of the Prime Minister’s breach of decorum.

One day Guan Yu said to Liu Bei, “Brother, why did you prevent me from killing that rebel and so ridding the world of a scoundrel? He insults the Emperor and ignores everybody else.”

  “When you throw stones at a rat, beware of the vase,” quoted Liu Bei. “Cao Cao was only a horse’s head away from Our Lord, and in the midst of a crowd of his partisans. In that momentary burst of anger, if you had struck and failed, and harm had come to the Emperor, what an awful crime would have been laid to us!”

  “If we do not rid the world of him today, a worse evil will come of it,” said Guan Yu.

  “But be discreet, my brother. Such matters cannot be lightly discussed.”

  the Emperor sadly returned to his palace. With tears in his eyes, he related what had occurred in the hunt to his consort, Empress Fu.

  “Alas for me!” said he. “From the first days of my accession, one vicious minister has succeeded another. I was the victim of Dong Zhuo’s evil machinations. Then followed the rebellion of Li Jue and Guo Si. You and I had to bear sorrows such as no others have borne. Then came this Cao Cao as one who would maintain the imperial dignity, but he has seized upon all real authority and does as he wishes. He works continually for his own glorification, and I never see him but my back pricks. These last few days in the hunting field, he went in front of me and acknowledged the cheers of the crowd. He is so extremely rude that I feel sure he has sinister designs against me. Alas, my wife, we know not when our end may come!”

  “In a whole court full of nobles, who have eaten the bread of Han, is there not one who will save his country?” said she.

  Thus spoke the Empress, and at the same moment there stepped in a man who said, “Grieve not, O Imperial Pair! I can find a savior for the country.”

It was none other than the father of the Empress, Fu Wan.

“Have you heard of Cao Cao’s

wanton and perverse behavior?”

said the Emperor, drying his eyes.

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Cheng Yu advised Cao Cao to assume a more definite

Cheng Yu advised Cao Cao to assume a more definite position. He said, “Illustrious Sir, your prestige grows daily. Why not seize the opportunity to take the position of Chief of the Feudatory Princes?”

“there are still too many supporters of the court,” was the reply. “I must be careful. I am going to propose a royal hunt to try to find out the best line to follow.”

  This expedition being decided upon they got together fleet horses, famous falcons, and pediGREe hounds, and prepared bows and arrows in readiness. They mustered a strong force of guards outside the city.

  When the Prime Minister proposed the hunting expedition, the Emperor said he feared it was an improper thing to do.

  Cao Cao replied, “In ancient times rulers made four expeditions yearly at each of the four seasons in order to show their strength. They were called Sou, Miao, Xien, and Shou, in the order of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Now that the whole country is in confusion, it would be wise to inaugurate a hunt in order to train the army. I am sure Your Majesty will approve.”

  So the Emperor with the full paraphernalia for an imperial hunt joined the expedition. He rode a saddled horse, carried an inlaid bow, and his quiver was filled with gold-tipped arrows. His chariot followed behind. Liu Bei and his brothers were in the imperial train, each with his bow and quiver. Each party member wore a breastplate under the outer robe and held his especial weapon, while their escort followed them. Cao Cao rode a dun horse called “Flying-Lightning,” and the army was one hundred thousand strong.

  the hunt took place in Xutian, and the legions spread out as guards round the hunting arena which extended over some one hundred square miles.

Cao Cao rode even with the Emperor, the horses’ heads alternating in the lead.

The imperial attendants immediately following were all in Cao Cao’s confidence.

The other officers, civil and military,

lagged behind, for they dared not press forward into the midst of Cao Cao’s partisans.

www.qianpdd.com

One Sunday morning Jobs brought his father to see the factory.

One Sunday morning Jobs brought his father to see the factory. Paul Jobs had always been fastidious

about making sure that his craftsmanship was exacting and his tools in order, and his son was proud to

show that he could do the same. Coleman came along to give the tour. “Steve was, like, beaming,” she recalled.

 

“He was so proud to show his father this creation.” Jobs explained how everything worked, and his father seemed

truly admiring. “He kept looking at his father, who touched everything

and loved how clean and perfect everything looked.”

 

for example, that the Macintosh group could decide not to use Apple’s marketing team and instead create

one of its own.) No one else was in favor, but Jobs kept trying to ram it through. “People were looking

to me to take control, to get him to sit down and shut up, but I didn’t,” Sculley recalled. As the meeting

broke up, he heard someone whisper, “Why doesn’t Sculley shut him up?”

 

As chairman of the company, Jobs went onstage first to start the shareholders’ meeting. He

did so with his own form of an invocation. “I’d like to open the meeting,” he said, “with a

twenty-year-old poem by Dylan—that’s Bob Dylan.” He broke into a little smile, then looked

down to read from the second verse of “The Times They Are a-Changin’.” His voice was high-pitched

as he raced through the ten lines, ending with “For the loser now / Will be later to win /

For the times they are a-changin’.” That song was the anthem that kept the multimillionaire board

chairman in touch with his counterculture self-image. He had a bootleg copy of his favorite version,

which was from the live concert Dylan performed, with Joan Baez, on Halloween 1964

at Lincoln Center’s Philharmonic Hall.

Sculley came onstage to report on the company’s earnings, and the audience started to become restless

as he droned on. Finally, he ended with a personal note. “The most important thing that has happened

to me in the last nine months at Apple has been a chance to develop a friendship with

 

Steve Jobs,” he said.

“For me, the rapport

we have developed

means an awful lot.”

www.shb419.com

At Apple his status revived. Instead of seeking ways to curtail Jobs’

At Apple his status revived. Instead of seeking ways to curtail Jobs’s authority, Sculley

gave him more: The Lisa and Macintosh divisions were folded together, with Jobs in

charge. He was flying high, but this did not serve to make him more mellow. Indeed

 

there was a memorable display of his brutal honesty when he stood in front of the

combined Lisa and Macintosh teams to describe how they would be merged. His

Macintosh group leaders would get all of the top positions, he said, and a quarter

 

of the Lisa staff would be laid off. “You guys failed,” he said, looking directly at those

who had worked on the Lisa. “You’re a B team. B players. Too many people here are B or

C players, so today we are releasing some of you to have

the opportunity to work at our sister companies here in the valley.”

 

He never ended up warming to Sculley. “He was incredibly phony, a complete poseur,” he later said.

“He pretended to be interested in technology, but he wasn’t. He was a marketing guy, and that is

what marketing guys are: paid poseurs.”

Matters came to a head when Jobs visited New York in March 1983 and was able to convert the

courtship into a blind and blinding romance. “I really think you’re the guy,” Jobs said as they walked

through Central Park. “I want you to come and work with me. I can learn so much from you.” Jobs,

who had cultivated father figures in the past, knew just how to play to Sculley’s ego and insecurities.

It worked. “I was smitten by him,” Sculley later admitted. “Steve was one of the brightest people

I’d ever met. I shared with him a passion for ideas.”

Sculley, who was interested in art history, steered them toward the Metropolitan Museum for a little

test of whether Jobs was really willing to learn from others. “I wanted to see how well he could take

coaching in a subject where he had no background,” he recalled. As they strolled through the Greek

and Roman antiquities, Sculley expounded on the difference between the Archaic sculpture of the sixth

century B.C. and the Periclean sculptures a century later. Jobs, who loved to pick up historical nuggets

he never learned in college, seemed to soak it in. “I gained a sense that I could be a teacher to a

brilliant student,” Sculley recalled. Once again he indulged the conceit that they were alike: “I saw

in him a mirror image of my younger self. I, too, was impatient, stubborn, arrogant, impetuous.

My mind exploded with ideas, often to the

 

exclusion of everything else.

I, too, was intolerant of

those who couldn’t live

up to my demands.”

shc419.com

For the time being, Jobs and Sculley were able to convince themselves

For the time being, Jobs and Sculley were able to convince themselves that their friendship

was still strong. They professed their fondness so effusively and often that they sounded

like high school sweethearts at a Hallmark card display. The first anniversary of Sculley’s

 

arrival came in May 1984, and to celebrate Jobs lured him to a dinner party at Le Mouton

Noir, an elegant restaurant in the hills southwest of Cupertino. To Sculley’s surprise, Jobs had

gathered the Apple board, its top managers, and even some East Coast investors. As they all

congratulated him during cocktails, Sculley recalled, “a beaming Steve stood in the background,

 

nodding his head up and down and wearing a Cheshire Cat smile on his face.” Jobs began the

dinner with a fulsome toast. “The happiest two days for me were when Macintosh shipped and

when John Sculley agreed to join Apple,” he said. “This has been the greatest year I’ve ever had

in my whole life, because I’ve learned so much from John.” He then presented Sculley with a

montage of memorabilia from the year.

shrieks that erupted. Instead of basking for a moment, it barreled ahead. “Unaccustomed as I am

to public speaking, I’d like to share with you a maxim I thought of the first time I met an IBM

mainframe: Never trust a computer you can’t lift.” Once again the roar almost drowned out its

final lines. “Obviously, I can talk. But right now I’d like to sit back and listen. So it is with

considerable pride that I introduce a man who’s been like a father to me, Steve Jobs.”

Pandemonium erupted, with people in the crowd jumping up and down and pumping their fists

in a frenzy. Jobs nodded slowly, a tight-lipped but broad smile on his face, then looked down

and started to choke up. The ovation continued for five minutes.

After the Macintosh team returned to Bandley 3 that afternoon, a truck pulled into the parking

lot and Jobs had them all gather next to it. Inside were a hundred new Macintosh computers, each

personalized with a plaque. “Steve presented them one at a time to each team member, with a

handshake and a smile, as the rest of us stood around cheering,” Hertzfeld recalled. It had been a

grueling ride, and many egos had been bruised by Jobs’s obnoxious and rough management style.

But neither Raskin nor Wozniak nor Sculley nor anyone else at the company could have pulled off the

creation of the Macintosh. Nor would it likely have emerged from focus groups and committees.

On the day he unveiled the Macintosh, a reporter from Popular Science asked Jobs what type

of market research he had done. Jobs responded by scoffing, “Did Alexander

 

Graham Bell do any

market research

before he invented

the telephone?”

www.shc419.com

Hertzfeld pulled off the remarkable feat of writing a music

Hertzfeld pulled off the remarkable feat of writing a music player in two days so that

the computer could play the Chariots of Fire theme. But when Jobs heard it, he judged

it lousy, so they decided to use a recording instead. At the same time, Jobs was thrilled

 

 

 

ethic by sharing his design for the Apple I for free, it was Jobs who insisted that they sell

the boards instead. He was also the one who, despite Wozniak’s reluctance, wanted to turn

Apple into a corporation and not freely distribute stock options to the friends who had been

in the garage with them. Now he was about to launch the Macintosh, a machine that violated

many of the principles of the hacker’s code: It was overpriced; it would have no slots, which

meant that hobbyists could not plug in their own expansion cards or jack into the motherboard

to add their own new functions; and it took special tools just to open the plastic case. It was

a closed and controlled system, like something designed by Big Brother rather than by a hacker.

So the “1984” ad was a way of reaffirming, to himself and to the world, his desired self-image.

The heroine, with a drawing of a Macintosh emblazoned on her pure white tank top, was a renegade

out to foil the establishment. By hiring Ridley Scott, fresh off the success of Blade Runner, as the

director, Jobs could attach himself and Apple to the cyberpunk ethos of the time. With the ad,

Apple could identify itself with the rebels and hackers

 

who thought differently,

and Jobs could reclaim

his right to identify

with them as well.

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The entire information age? Was George Orwell right about 1984?”

The entire information age? Was George Orwell right about 1984?” At that moment a screen

came down from the ceiling and showed a preview of an upcoming sixty-second television ad for

the Macintosh. In a few months it was destined to make advertising history, but in the meantime

it served its purpose of rallying Apple’s demoralized sales force. Jobs had always been able to draw

energy by imagining himself as a rebel pitted against the forces of darkness. Now he was

able to energize his troops with the same vision.

 

Jobs was at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan, preparing for the press previews, so a Sunday morning

conference call was scheduled. The software manager calmly explained the situation to Jobs, while

Hertzfeld and the others huddled around the speakerphone holding their breath. All they needed

was an extra two weeks. The initial shipments to the dealers could have a version of the software

labeled “demo,” and these could be replaced as soon as the new code was finished at the end of

the month. There was a pause. Jobs did not get angry; instead he spoke in cold, somber tones. He

told them they were really great. So great, in fact, that he knew they could get this done. “There’s

no way we’re slipping!” he declared. There was a collective gasp in the Bandley building work space.

“You guys have been working on this stuff for months now, another couple weeks isn’t going to make

that much of a difference. You may as well get it over with. I’m going to ship the code a week from

Monday, with your names on it.”

“Well, we’ve got to finish it,” Steve Capps said. And so they did. Once again, Jobs’s reality distortion

field pushed them to do what they had thought impossible. On Friday Randy Wigginton brought in a

huge bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans for the final three all-nighters. When Jobs arrived at

work at 8:30 a.m. that Monday, he found Hertzfeld sprawled nearly comatose on the couch. They talked

for a few minutes about a remaining tiny glitch, and Jobs decreed that it wasn’t a problem. Hertzfeld

dragged himself to his blue Volkswagen Rabbit (license plate: MACWIZ) and drove home to bed.

A short while later Apple’s Fremont factory began to roll out boxes emblazoned with the colorful line

 

drawings of the Macintosh.

Real artists ship, Jobs had

declared, and now the

Macintosh team had.

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