Short Saturday: The Grand Piano Is Gone

We are an Apple household. I bought my first Mac (a Classic) in 1990 and the Boy learned to type on it (thank you, Mavis Beacon). He and I powered through Myst on the Thanksgiving 1994 weekend on a Macintosh Performa. Soon we had two Macs. And iPods, iPhones, and iPads. We are, as they say, true believers.

So the passing of Steve Jobs left me feeling more bereft than I’d expected.

Lots has been said about it. But leave it to an author—and one of my faves: Nicholson Baker (The Mezzanine, A Box of Matches, The Anthologist)—to nail it in the New Yorker.

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