Dear Mr. Jobs,

I couldn’t help but notice you have left us. Trust me, nobody on the planet missed the news. I am bereft about your exit. I simply cannot express how important your work, your designs and your company have become to me.

I am a professional writer, a blogger and I use the result of your work every single day. They are as important to me as my own hands. Hell, they are an extension of my hands and my brain.

I was trying to explain how I felt about Apple Products and why I get all weird about them to the Apple Store Manager in Aventura, Florida.  I explained to Graham how my devices became a way of describing who I was and what I thought. What they contained and what I had created on them had become a reflection of me. All he could say was, “I know. I understand.”

Your products are important to people because they become a part of who we are.

It’s not the status of owning an Apple product. It’s not about that.

My laptops, iPad, and iPhone allow me to work. To write. They help me navigate the world, take me to places I’ve never been and allow me to learn about things I never knew before. They allow me to walk through history, and to create history. They allow me to think, to learn, to laugh, and to cry. They have helped me to expand my world.

And in turn, by using what I have learned, hopefully I will be able to expand other people’s knowledge.

I want them to do better.  To be better. I want them to share what they have learned here and build on it. I want them to make a difference just as you did and just as I try to do.

I am so sad for the world that you passed. But mostly I’m sad for me. I’m not one much for hero worship, but your work, your words, your inspiration and even your occasional anger taught me that it’s okay to be proud of my work, pleased with what I have created, yet never losing sight of the fact that I can always do better, be better and contribute more to the world. Your work has changed everything in my work. And in effect, all of the accomplishments that were thought of and executed on your devices have become an extension of your own triumphs. That’s a pretty big legacy, Steve.

In part, due to your efforts,  the world tipped sideways and now it is no longer a “Top-Down” world where we listen to the experts doling out information on what to think. There are websites, blogs, independent thinkers and artists everywhere busily thinking different. And they are getting their work out to the world. The iPad was created and all of a sudden there are musical groups creating music strictly on their iPads. You sir, were an artist in the truest sense. You created art that allowed other people to create it.

You made it possible for other people to create art:

 

To create and play music:

 

To write:

To simply do better.


 

 You made us all want to be better people. We wanted to not only learn more, and improve ourselves, but we wanted to share it with others. I think that for the first time, a large corporation has taught the world that it’s okay to be different. To look different.  To think different. 

 

You always wanted us to think different. And we did. You wanted to keep things simple. You always did and we understood. You don’t need a manual to run an iPad:

Get it here: iPad Stroller Mount

 

I know I’ve said too much already. But I just want you to know that you not only changed the world, you changed me and the work I’ve accomplished. You simply made me want to be better. You made me want to be one of the crazy ones. You made me want to change the world.  I thank you for that.

And I’m insanely in your debt.

Richard Charet in front of Apple Headquarters playing bagpipes in honor of Steve Jobs.



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