I have been working on a much longer blog post that I can’t seem to get finished for various reasons, not the least of which involve actually trying to find some specific way to wrap up the point of the post without an inordinate amount of birdwalking on my part. Trying to do this more regularly has been a challenge, in that a multitude of ideas are already forming about what I want to write about, but trying to organize them logically has been the trickiest part.
But this little story was worth jumping up the ladder, even though it’s more of an anecdote that just occurred this past Wednesday.
I took a trip to the Apple Store over in Brea for one of their One-to-One classes (partly because the Cerritos location, which is closer, but is always booked for these sessions). I’ve been struggling with my MacBook for certain tasks that I ultimately found out are likely due to how Firefox interacts with my printer (as opposed to Safari) and not by anything I was necessarily doing. The problem was driving me nuts, and even with several other Mac users on my school campus, I finally realized I needed some help from one of their corporate mouthpieces.
I arrived at the store about 20 minutes early, partly because even though the Brea store is not as busy as the Cerritos store, it’s still got hella lot of people milling about getting their Apple on. But I wanted a seat in their work area, and, lucky for me, once one appointment cleared out, there was one available. So I dropped down my backpack, hoisted up on a stool and got my MacBook out.
One of the Apple trainers came over, a polite twenty-something, asking me if I needed a power cord. Given that I had forgotten mine at home, I took him up on the offer. Then this:
Glancing at my Cal decal on my Mac: “You’ve got to be kidding me!”, pointing to both my computer, and my Cal hat, which I had set down on the counter.
Switching to what I call “Whittier Defense-mode” (which is tactic honed in Whittier, because surrounded by U$c fans, I go on offense with the fact that unlike the majority of Trojan football fans I encounter in Whittier, I actually went to college!), I replied, “Well, that’s where I went to school.”
“No, this is unbelievable, I just accepted my offer to start there in the fall, at Haas.”
“Really?” And so it went, with me beginning to extoll the virtues of my
On we went for about 5 minutes or so, with me switching into my usual college night mode, but specifically mentioning, for his purposes, the local Cal Alumni club. It was a good conversation, but I could tell that this kid didn’t need my affirmation. After all, while he was leaving the Brea store in the Fall, Apple had already set him with a gig at the store closest to the Cal campus. “Unbelievable”, I thought to myself, “this kid is set”.
At around this point, thinking that I needed to get some things done before my class, and not wanting to monopolize his time, we parted ways. During this time, an older gentleman had been sitting next to me, bearing mute witness to our entire conversation. He had been working on a photo project during the chat I was having. As soon as the young man left me be, the older gentleman leaned over:
“I went to Stanford…”