Chương 62: Book 3 - Chapter 5 B

As I was finishing up at the University on Friday, I heard someone talking about how Steve Jobs had just quit Apple or been fired. The rumors were saying both. That night at the hotel we watched the news where it was made clear that he had quit. I looked over at Matt who was sharing the room with me.

"I think I need to make a new friend," I told him.

"Who? Steve Jobs?" he asked.

"Yes."

"When do you want to go?"

"Monday, let's see the sights here in San Francisco first. Grandma said I had a great uncle who used to work as a locksmith, and anytime the San Francisco Mint vaults got jammed shut he was the one who got called to open them. I'd like to go tour it."

"Do we need to change hotels?" he asked.

"Yeah, let's get a room at the Sheraton-Palace Hotel. I really liked that place when I was there before. I'll call Mom." I dialed the phone, calling home.

"Hi Mom."

"Hi, are you all done with your lectures?" she asked.

"I am, but Matt and I want to explore some of the stuff here in San Francisco."

"You mean you want to."

"Yes, Mom, I want to.

"How long?" she asked.

"Just a few days to do the tourist stuff. I didn't get to last time I was here."

"Like what?" she asked.

"The San Francisco Mint, there's a wax museum and the planetarium."

"Alright, you can stay a few days. I like San Francisco too. I was at Berkeley for almost four years, remember. But there are conditions. No going out after dark and Matt calls in extra security for everywhere you go."

"Okay. I'll do all of that. We'll be moving to the Sheraton-Palace Hotel tomorrow morning."

"Okay, be safe."

"I will Mom." Matt took care of the rooming and the security backup. Saturday morning we changed hotels and did the touristy stuff. Riding the street car, visiting the mint and making a coin. We even went to the planetarium. We were safely back into our hotel room by 630, and I called Mom while we ate room service for dinner to confirm I wasn't out after dark. Sunday was too beautiful to do stuff indoors so we went to the big park, to ride the carousel and see the bison.

When we passed where people were playing chess I stopped to look. Someone recognized me as a national chess champion, and invited me to play. Then we went down to the wharf to enjoy the old ships, cotton candy, street performers and clam chowder bread bowls. I was so tired when we got back that Matt made the night time call for me. Monday just after lunch, we drove down to Woodside with me providing the directions. The house was massive but I walked up to the door and rang the bell. Steve answered the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking down at the kid on his front porch.

"Hi Mr Jobs, I'm Dr John Cook. I brought you a present," I told him.

"You're a Doctor?" he asked in surprise.

"PhD in Physics. I'm from Oklahoma but I was lecturing last week at Berkeley and Lawrence Livermore Labs when I heard you might be looking for a job."

"Interesting," he said. He looked down at me, really taking me in. I'm a physically average nine-year-old, though I like to think of it as being a tall fifty-three inches.

"How did you get here?" he asked, looking at the black vehicle in the driveway.

"My driver. We drove down this morning from where I'm staying in San Francisco," I told him, pointing at the two vehicles. A third security vehicle was up the street and out of sight.

"I keep expecting 'candid camera,'" he said.

"No tricks, Mr Jobs. I'm a fan of yours, and I happen to write software myself. I even co-own a software company."

"Come in and tell me about it," he said.

"This is your present," I said, handing him a paper-wrapped book.

"I'm sorry you had to quit Apple." I looked around the nearly empty large home.

"Oh wow! You have an Eames Chair too! I have one in my bedroom. It's so comfortable! I can sit and read or write for hours in it. There's this beautiful old building in Tulsa with a green copper roof that I look at out my bedroom window from my chair." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I turned, and he was pulling the wrapping paper off the book. He opened it up.

"This is a weird book," he told me, a hint of curiosity in his voice. I had autographed the inside, and included a note: "A change of focus often brings clarity, John Cook 9-16-1985""It's my second book on the New York Times best sellers list," I told him.

"I first wrote the software that created these pictures on a Mac."

"I recognize your name now. You wrote that computer game everybody is playing. Civilizations or something right?"

"That's me. I wrote that on a Mac too. Can I sit?" I asked pointing at the only chair.

"Sure," he said, and pulled a stool around to sit on himself.

"How does this book work?"

"There are instructions, but if you relax your eyes and look into the page as if focusing on a distant object, your brain will naturally combine the two slightly different images from each eye, revealing a hidden three-dimensional image. It's called an autostereogram, but that name makes for terrible marketing." He stared for a bit, then almost flinched when he suddenly saw it.

"It's a shark," he said.

"I'm working on sequels. They'll only probably be really popular for a few years but I released them in multiple languages simultaneously around the world, so they've started to kind of become this international thing."

"This is seriously cool," he said flipping to the next page.

"Thanks," I said as I watched him enjoy the book. He flipped a few more pages, his gaze lost in the intricate, swirling patterns of the colored lines. I sat silently watching him, waiting. Finally he looked up.

"So what's this about a job?" he asked.

"Software, mainly operating systems. I keep looking at what's happening with the competition between Mac and PC, and I see something very strange going on. Everyone focuses on processing power, comparing machines. But processing power is irrelevant with a poor interface. It doesn't matter how much horsepower you cram into a Model T, it'll still rattle your teeth with every bump.

"I look at the Mac interface and it's beautiful. I think it will hold up to the lack of power for a while. But in the end, it doesn't matter how beautiful your sports car is if it's got a twenty horsepower Model T engine either.

"Computers are a tool. Humans make and use tools. Hardware makers are going to keep pushing Moore's Law for as long as they can, probably several decades. It will be an evolutionary process, a drive for lower prices and higher power. Most people will settle for a capable midrange machine, and even the most cutting-edge, top-tier models will become average in just two years.

"What I think computing really needs is an agnostic operating system. There might be good hardware, there might be bad hardware, but it doesn't matter because the hardware doesn't care." He laughed loudly at that and I paused. He waved me on to continue, intrigued by his strange visitor. So I did.

"A really good operating system should run on any machine. It doesn't care. It tells its user that the hardware they have will run this certain software. That's when computing can be for everyone. I've seen my grandfather play my Civilization game on a Mac, but when offered a PC version—even in color—he declined, because he didn't want to learn to type commands to start the game."

"I agree that a good user interface is important, but what about beauty?"

"Let the box be ugly, make the software beautiful. People don't spend time staring at the box, they look at the interface. Now if it was a hand held computer that would be different."

"I'm planning on starting my own company," he said.

"I'm not planning on working for someone else."

"That's great. Any idea what you're going to do?" I asked him.

"Something involving computers. I haven't decided but there are a couple of guys that I want to work with from Apple. They don't like what's happening there either."

"Well if you ever need a job just let me know, I'd hire you in a minute to do anything you wanted," I told him.

"Thank you for your present," he said"You're welcome. I hope you'll keep in touch. I'd love to work with you on a project someday. By the way, what do you plan to do with your Apple stock?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"If you're going to start a new company, you'll need cash so you don't have to go looking for investors who want to change everything. Are you going to sell your stock to fund your new company? If so, I want to buy it."

"I own eleven percent, that's a lot of money," he said, talking down to me a bit.

"About one hundred thirty million based on today's stock prices. That'll change, probably more down than up, especially after your departure from the company," I calculated.

"Are you offering me one hundred thirty million dollars for my shares of Apple? Do you have that kind of money?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah I've got that. I've sold rights to some revolutionary patents, and the royalties are essentially printing money until the patents expire."

"Really? Like what?" he asked curiously.

"Have you heard of graphene felt? It filters water. It's incredibly popular and people keep finding new uses for it."

"Yeah, there was an article in Newsweek about that. That's yours?"

"Among other things. I made a new kind of lightbulb too. I like making new stuff. But water filtration is going to be big. The technology effectively ends drought for California and any region with access to the ocean or other substantial water sources."

"That is big," he said, and paused unsure of what I was, much less who I was.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" he offered, not knowing what else to do.

"Sure, but my driver will want to eat too, can I invite him in?"

"That's fine, I eat vegetarian. Is that okay?"

"Sure, and I'm happy to lend a hand in the kitchen if you could use the extra help." I got Matt and invited him in. Then I helped Steve make a noodle dish. Matt, Steve and I shared a pleasant meal the conversation flowing easily as we continued to connect. We exchanged contact information, and I reiterated my offer to hire him should he ever want a job, while he reciprocated with a similar offer for me. He also told me that if he did sell his Apple stock he'd want to keep at least one share.

The drive back was quiet. Matt had enjoyed the conversation but concentrated on the traffic. It helped that he had a security vehicle to follow. They were local and knew the roads.

"Any other visits you want to make while you're here?" he asked, curiosity overcoming the comfortable silence.

"Why do you ask?" I said tiredly.

"Because you have two more wrapped presents in your suitcase at the hotel and I was wondering if you had more visits planned."

"Yeah I want to go see George Lucas tomorrow."

"Star Wars, George Lucas?"

"That's him."

"You know where he lives?"

"Of course, you'll like the place, it's called Skywalker Ranch."