It doesn't seem all that long ago.
It's been ten years since Steve Jobs took the stage in New York city for the 1997 Macworld conference. It was an ominous occasion, Apple was struggling like it never had before, some saying that Apple wasn't going to survive. Jobs laid out the goundwork for the road to Apple's recovery, and during his sobering speech he identified what he saw as Apple's remaining strategic assets. The foremost among them was the astonishingly loyal group of Macintosh users who, even in the worst of times, never abandoned the Mac platform. Apple had been ignoring those users, Jobs confessed, but he promised that all of that was about to change. The following year saw the introduction of the first iMac computer, Mac OS 8, and Apple fortunes finally began a journey towards an historic turnaround.
A decade later, I came home from work and woke my brand new iMac Core2Duo from sleep. As always, it's sprang to life in an instant, but today I had bad news for it, very bad news, and I really didn't know where to begin. With it's universally celebrated design, native Intel OS X Tiger operating system, iLife 06 software, and simply incredible performance via Intel's latest 64-bit dual core CPU technology, the Intel iMac had been showered with praise just a few months ago as a stunning technological achievement. It seemed like my new iMac had everything going for it, it's future looked very bright indeed. And, a decade after 1997, Steve Jobs once again took the stage for the Macworld conference keynote, but this time it was a different, successful, confident Apple than the one that existed in 1997. It was also a different Steve Jobs. It may have said Macworld on the outside, but inside, and on the keynote stage, it was all APPLEworld.
What could I possibly say to my new Intel iMac after this? I knew it was anxoius for word on all of the great new features of the forthcoming OS X Leopard. I knew it couldn't wait to see what it could do with the new iLife 07, or iWork 3, or maybe some brand new software no one ever imagined before that would give the new Intel iMac reason to shine even more in front of the watching world like it never had before. I decided that my iMac was a powerful machine after all, and I would just have to tell it like it is. I wouldn't attempt to sugar-coat today's story with superlatives like "It's the best thing Apple has ever done!" "Whooo!" "Boom!" "It's just amazing it's like magic!" And sadly, there isn't going to be "one more thing "
I spoke slowly and softly as I clicked my iMac's speech recognition control. Nothing about Leopard, I sighed, not a damn thing. And iLife 07? It wasn't even mentioned - or shown. iWork? Completely MIA too, I'm afraid. Next came the hard part: Looks like Steve Jobs has already found a new machine, a sort of swiss army knife-like iPod succesor called iPhone that, like all swiss army knife tech gadgets, tries to be a jack of all trades and master of none. It's hardly comparible in any way to the iMac's potential and power, I consoled, but nevertheless, even now it has it's very own tab on the front page of Apple.com. My iMac listened quielty as I continued, but I could sense it's sheer disbelief. When I mentioned that it's no longer Apple Computer anymore, just Apple, Inc., suddenly my iMac acted like it couldn't take anymore of this. Like the reliable, ever-vigilant guardian of it's security, it demanded my Administrator password, as if what I had told it couldn't be believed, must be some sort of ruse. Surely, it can't be true. It just can't be!
I typed in my Administrator password, and, like everytime I typed it in before, my iMac obediently and quietly accepted it. Except this time it was an strange kind of quiet, not even the fans could be stirred into action. The feeling of utter rejection and resignation permeated the room.
The screen shown as brightly as ever, and on the desktop I could see the Finder Mac icon smiling in it's usual place on the dock. But this time, it was more of a melancholy smile, kind of like a sad tragic clown whose better days have long since passed. I wanted to prove to my iMac that, to me, it was still the undisputed king of the technology kingdom, that it was far more superior to Apple's new, silly iPhone. Anything the iPhone could do, the Intel iMac could do the same and so much better. So I launched Front Row, pressed the iTunes icon, and set it to shuffle. And the music drifted from the speakers, in a true, fitting, dignified, way...
It's been ten years since Steve Jobs took the stage in New York city for the 1997 Macworld conference. It was an ominous occasion, Apple was struggling like it never had before, some saying that Apple wasn't going to survive. Jobs laid out the goundwork for the road to Apple's recovery, and during his sobering speech he identified what he saw as Apple's remaining strategic assets. The foremost among them was the astonishingly loyal group of Macintosh users who, even in the worst of times, never abandoned the Mac platform. Apple had been ignoring those users, Jobs confessed, but he promised that all of that was about to change. The following year saw the introduction of the first iMac computer, Mac OS 8, and Apple fortunes finally began a journey towards an historic turnaround.
A decade later, I came home from work and woke my brand new iMac Core2Duo from sleep. As always, it's sprang to life in an instant, but today I had bad news for it, very bad news, and I really didn't know where to begin. With it's universally celebrated design, native Intel OS X Tiger operating system, iLife 06 software, and simply incredible performance via Intel's latest 64-bit dual core CPU technology, the Intel iMac had been showered with praise just a few months ago as a stunning technological achievement. It seemed like my new iMac had everything going for it, it's future looked very bright indeed. And, a decade after 1997, Steve Jobs once again took the stage for the Macworld conference keynote, but this time it was a different, successful, confident Apple than the one that existed in 1997. It was also a different Steve Jobs. It may have said Macworld on the outside, but inside, and on the keynote stage, it was all APPLEworld.
What could I possibly say to my new Intel iMac after this? I knew it was anxoius for word on all of the great new features of the forthcoming OS X Leopard. I knew it couldn't wait to see what it could do with the new iLife 07, or iWork 3, or maybe some brand new software no one ever imagined before that would give the new Intel iMac reason to shine even more in front of the watching world like it never had before. I decided that my iMac was a powerful machine after all, and I would just have to tell it like it is. I wouldn't attempt to sugar-coat today's story with superlatives like "It's the best thing Apple has ever done!" "Whooo!" "Boom!" "It's just amazing it's like magic!" And sadly, there isn't going to be "one more thing "
I spoke slowly and softly as I clicked my iMac's speech recognition control. Nothing about Leopard, I sighed, not a damn thing. And iLife 07? It wasn't even mentioned - or shown. iWork? Completely MIA too, I'm afraid. Next came the hard part: Looks like Steve Jobs has already found a new machine, a sort of swiss army knife-like iPod succesor called iPhone that, like all swiss army knife tech gadgets, tries to be a jack of all trades and master of none. It's hardly comparible in any way to the iMac's potential and power, I consoled, but nevertheless, even now it has it's very own tab on the front page of Apple.com. My iMac listened quielty as I continued, but I could sense it's sheer disbelief. When I mentioned that it's no longer Apple Computer anymore, just Apple, Inc., suddenly my iMac acted like it couldn't take anymore of this. Like the reliable, ever-vigilant guardian of it's security, it demanded my Administrator password, as if what I had told it couldn't be believed, must be some sort of ruse. Surely, it can't be true. It just can't be!
I typed in my Administrator password, and, like everytime I typed it in before, my iMac obediently and quietly accepted it. Except this time it was an strange kind of quiet, not even the fans could be stirred into action. The feeling of utter rejection and resignation permeated the room.
The screen shown as brightly as ever, and on the desktop I could see the Finder Mac icon smiling in it's usual place on the dock. But this time, it was more of a melancholy smile, kind of like a sad tragic clown whose better days have long since passed. I wanted to prove to my iMac that, to me, it was still the undisputed king of the technology kingdom, that it was far more superior to Apple's new, silly iPhone. Anything the iPhone could do, the Intel iMac could do the same and so much better. So I launched Front Row, pressed the iTunes icon, and set it to shuffle. And the music drifted from the speakers, in a true, fitting, dignified, way...
