Dealing with the death of our protagonist

#8:

I think this post might need a preface: This is taking a jab at some people's opinions or perceptions of Steve Jobs. It is NOT taking a jab at Steve Jobs, whom, like seemingly everyone else on the Internet, I irrationally adored.

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Carolyn,

I’m having a hard time dealing with the death of Steve Jobs.

I’ll admit, I didn’t know him terribly well – like you, he wouldn’t return my phone calls – but I felt I knew him about as well as you might know the protagonist of a novel you read the back cover of.

Protagonists aren’t supposed to die.

From what I gather, he was no ordinary protagonist. He not only embodied the virtues of a 21st Century moderately liberal individualist society, he also made black jeans + a turtleneck look cool.

Bigger still is that he was our existential protagonist. He had this knowing smile that said, “I know stuff about life and death that you don’t.” It left me simultaneously itchy and inspired.

He taught us with his actions that life can be meaningfully lived if you just shoot for going to bed satisfied every night.

That’s why I’m trying my darndest to follow in his footsteps and become the head of a publicly-held consumer products company.

Think Different.

Make Valuable Consumer Products.

I don’t fall for all the hoopla surrounding his aura. I recognize that, like any good protagonist, he wasn’t perfect. He had some flaws. He made some poor decisions.

His worst decision? Not selling vials of his frozen semen.

Could have made a fortune.

Could have populated small countries with his progeny.

As it turns out, there is a non-trivial chance that he will be out-reproduced by me! That seems absurdly unfair, and demonstrates a lack of forward-thinking on his part.

But they say that love is finding perfections in imperfections.

Well then, he was perfect.

The hardest part for me might be figuring out how to honor him.

Should I get one iPhone 4S, or two?