No question, though the man personally ticked me off, Dan Lyons’ “Diary of Steve Jobs” was genius funny, the voice so fully blended with the real madness of Steve at his most Steve-like—or so it felt … well, let me put it this way. Since we knew almost nothing of RSJ’s life, Fake Steve was a seamless extension, until, I swear, the fantasy was more real than the real.
Or, more likely, Fake Steve instantly became so vivid, so at once very Steve-like and at the same time over the edge — Bono driving Steve in his Mercedes at incredible speed down the 580 til he lightly taps the bumper of the car ahead of him, and they pull over and the guy is of course livid until he sees who it is, upon which he falls all over himself apologizing until Bono and Steve let him off the hook. And Bono tosses the poor sod one of those red iPods. “Because,” Steve writes, “that’s just the kind of guy he is.”
Oh I could go on. A friend asked, what was the deal with Yoko in my last post, and there you are, Dan Lyons. A bit of the fantasy that so had to be real, I remembered it as such. In the beginning, FS had a brilliant series of post each titled “So [somebody] Called.” Larry, Al, Eric (nickname Little Squirrel) and …. Yoko. Biggest pain in Steve’s ass ever—-his goal, of course, to get the Beatles on iTunes, her conditions the likes of “Yoko Ono and The Beatles.” Or, when she weakened just a tad, “The Beatles With Yoko Ono.” Hysterical not only funny-hysterical but tinged with the rueful hysteria everyone felt when this woman appeared who in every way did not fit in and was also naturally annoying. Annoying still, showing strained cleavage and an unbuttoned sweater at the anniversary of John’s death—what the hell was with that, Yoko? I mean, great, she has very large breasts, but we saw you naked how many years ago? So we know it took a hoist, now.
More later. My assistant, BreezeAnn, is bringing my morning smoothie, and then I have to meditate and fire somebody.