Jobs

After this long break, wanted to share something personal with you all. Here’s a memory that has stuck with me for many years, both due to the personal nature, and the philosophical bent it has to it. I hope you get as much from it as I do.

I spent all my money on a one-way ticket, a pilgrimage if you will. The destination was Silicon Valley, I was going to see the King. To get there was a journey of many smaller trips, my own methods for dealing with this travel time improving with each leg – this journey was symbolic, and important to me on a personal level. If things worked as I planned, I was going to meet one of the greatest minds of our generation, and he was going to give me knowledge of the utmost importance. I was going to ask him that which had vexed me for years.
Finally, I made it there. Waiting in his lobby, I enjoyed the cool, calm atmosphere as my mind raced a million miles a minute. Around me was a sleek, user-interface of an office, belying the genius involved in day-to-day work in this building. Would he answer? Would he know how important this was to me? Would I be happy with what he had to say? And then, he appeared. Like a heavenly creature, he stood in his office doorway, his skivvy and jean-wearing silhouette surrounded by a glowing nimbus. He smiled, and beckoned me in. I followed him into the office.

“Thank you, Steve. I have travelled all this way, given so much to be here. I must ask you a question.” He looked up at me – was it my use of his first name, or the desire to have answers? I continued.
“Please tell me. Is it ‘Jobes’, or ‘Jobbs’?” He looked out the window, his gaze surveying California, but when he turned back his eyes were full of tears. He looked at me, his eyes two pools of sadness and confusion. And he answered.

 

“Jobes, Jobbs. Jobbs, Jobes. I…Don’t know.”

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~ by nick on February 17, 2015.

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