Steve Jobs, iPods, and Blue Jeans
When I think of Steve Jobs, I think of every computer I’ve chosen to use since I was 7 years old. My first video game (KidPix) was experienced on a mac. I first “hacked” in 4th grade so I could install games that I could play during free time (Crystal Quest, Spectre). I remember lurking around the computer lab in 7th grade when the school got new iMacs. These machines created such a stir that they had to put sheets over them until they were ready to be used.
I think about how I made fun of that thing called an iPod when I first saw one as a sophomore in high school. 4GB of music? Who the hell would ever need that much music? I remember buying a 12inch powerbook from the first apple store in downtown Palo Alto as a senior in high school. I also remember the moment I realized that Apple had taken over my generation… It seemed 90% of the students at Princeton were using an Apple notebook of some sort by my junior year. I had a similar feeling this past weekend while I was walking down the aisle of an airplane. Damn, EVERYONE has iPads. The legacy is both broad and deep. Steve has touched us all. Even if you are running Windows Vista, whilst listening to music on a chocolate colored Zune, those products were created with a certain competitor in mind.
The impact and the scope of achievement is what you think about first. But then your brain, acting as a sieve catches but a few moments, and focuses deeply on those. There’s a moment that embodies my image of Steve Jobs more than any other. A day that in the grand scheme of things wasn’t as momentous as others, but highlights the playful attention to perfection that I will always remember.
In 2005, Apple was crushing it with iPod Minis, the most popular music player on the market. In a special event at the end of the year, Steve Jobs explained this, and then says, we’re going to kill it. We’re going to take it off the market and replace it with something better.
Among the original iPod campaigns there was this concept of 1000 songs in your pocket. In a keynote years before, Steve Jobs had unveiled it by removing his iPod from the pair of jeans that he had been wearing the entire time, almost as if to tell the world… Oh hey what’s this in my pocket… I had no idea it was here… Where did this come from… I had no idea… More importantly, it demonstrated that it wasn’t a burdensome, circular cd player that fits comfortably into nothing and needed to be carried around.
“So, let’s get a camera.”
Re-watching the film, this was clearly the pre-planned verbal queue. It’s time. The camera that Steve Jobs asked for provides a close up of the uniquely dark pair of jeans he was wearing that day (dark blue makes for a great background color). With the camera in place, you can sense Steve’s excitement. This is a moment that had been practiced and he knew it would be a hit, the unveiling of the iPod Mini killer. He puts his hand in his front jean pocket to reveal that it’s empty. He says, the original iPod was all about 1000 songs in your pocket * he pauses* and then, with a casual point to that weird, little, front pocket on some jeans he then asks the audience, “Have you ever wondered what this pocket is for?” Immediately, the audience understands… In this little, tiny pocket, hides the next iPod. The anticipation is at a fever pitch. How can it be that small? The cheers from the audience start preemptively. He slides his fingers into the pocket to reveal the next big thing, a pearly white device, the iPod Nano. The look on his face says it all. Ain’t this fun.
On the surface, I see a pair of dark blue jeans and some clever showmanship. Below it, I acknowledge the attention to detail required to manifest, in 5 short seconds, the sum of the efforts of thousands of people over many years. To create those awe-inspiring seconds, one must work for years in pursuit of perfection. We all yearn for those seconds, in one way or another. It’s easy to stare at the pinnacle and say that we too would like to be there. It’s another thing to build the foundation and the structure upon which to stand. Build the foundation and the structure and then, and perhaps only then, does it really matter what kind of jeans you’re wearing.