VEGAS INC Coverage
The first time I held an iPod, I felt I was holding the future in the palm of my hand.
It was early 2002 and I had just become editor-in-chief of 7x7, a one-year-old San Francisco-based magazine where I was hired to lead a complete creative overhaul. As the new guy at the Bay Area’s must-read “It” publication and living in a part of the world where all cool gadgets and cyber toys come from, I didn’t have much of a choice: Apple’s latest gizmo, something called an iPod, had to become my BFF. And it did.
Like so many of my friends, I’ve always had a thing for Steve Jobs’ latest offerings. In fact, one of my many Apple-related fun facts is that I’ve never owned a computer that wasn’t a Mac. I bought the aqua-colored original iMac that weighed slightly more than my car. I also purchased an unfortunate orange-colored iBook, the revolutionary Mac laptop that had a built-in plastic handle for easy transport. And at every company I’ve ever worked for, Mac, happily, was the computer of choice. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Apple’s computers still have less than four percent of the world’s market share. How’s that even possible? Aren’t we all living in Steve Jobs’ world?
Since that first, gorgeous iPod (it’s true, you never forget your first one), I’ve bought at least a half dozen more of the musical thingamabobs with cutesy names like Touch and Nano. Right now in our home, we’re the owners of not one, but three Apple computers (all with gargantuan screens, of course), two Apple TV doodads (for both oversized televisions), at least six iPhones (the first several became useful cat toys as they were rendered obsolete by newer models) and, best of all, my baby, the iPad 2, better known by his birth name, Little Ricky. To say nothing of the several thousand songs and videos uploaded from iTunes, the dozens of apps we can’t imagine our daily lives without, the endless accessories, protective covers, latest headphones, ubiquitous synch cords, adapters, AirPorts, docking stations and on and on, all exquisitely packaged in that unmistakable, heart-skips-a-little-faster, Apple white box. In my house, the Apple store’s milky white box long replaced Tiffany’s baby blue offering as the gift of choice come birthdays and Christmas.
But how did Apple do it? The real magic Steve Jobs possesses isn’t so much his uncanny eye for simplicity, utility and performance—though on those counts, too, he reigns supreme—but it’s his ability to convince me and millions of other cynical, smart, you-can’t-dupe-me types to drink the Silicon Valley-flavored Kool-Aid he’s pouring. Willingly. Eagerly. Repeatedly. I shudder to think what would happen if Jobs ever told us to become Scientologists. Scary.
So I took my devotion to all things Apple to the next logical level: I lost my mind completely. I’m not sure how it happened, exactly, but I found myself 33rd in line (out of more than 300 people) past midnight on a chilly, rainy Friday in Los Angeles’ shopping mall The Grove, waiting for the Apple store to open and sell me their latest I-must-own contraption, the iPad 2. I won’t tell you too much about that strange, endless night, but after more than eight hours of genuine agonizing discomfort—I know it’s shocking not to enjoy standing in a cold, wet, stagnant cue—the innocuous Genius Bar crew informed us that only 15 new iPad 2s had arrived that morning. As I turned away to hail a nonexistent taxi, I was forced instead to walk to my friend’s house, where I was staying for the weekend. It was during that woeful early morning journey that I realized I was making, in every way, a true walk of shame. What was so different about me walking from a deeply disappointing all-night encounter with Steve Jobs’ minions than a shameful, what-was-your-name-again? post-coital stroll? Nothing, that’s what.
As the proud Apple gadget floozy I had clearly become, I vowed to temper my i-obsessions and just chillax, like my Beverly Hills friends are always imploring me to do. What would drive me—me—to stand in line all night for a magic tablet that didn’t even exist 18 months ago? I never stand in line for anything. Never. Never. But, sure enough, there I was, shivering in the black Hollywood night. Standing in line. What the hell have you done to me, Steve Jobs?
Upon my return to Las Vegas later that weekend, I called the Apple store at the Fashion Show mall and spoke to a helpful manager with a pleasant manner who assured me that a shiny new iPad 2 would be waiting for me the following morning at the store. Simple as that. But, wait. Why did I just stand in the rain like an idiot? Ah, because I am an idiot. Got it.
In case you’re wondering, Little Ricky and I are both very happy, getting closer every day. Though lately I can tell he’s more than a little nervous about his fate because of the iPad 3’s imminent debut. Truth is, he should be nervous. Damn you, Steve Jobs.