Jim Stafford – Page 9 – Jim Stafford's BlogOKC

Say it ain’t so

Sellout As I was sitting in the stands at OKC’s All Sports Stadium in roughly 1987 watching the Big 8 baseball tournament with my Daily Oklahoman colleague, Tom Kensler, a lanky young man sat down with us.

Kensler, now deceased, was the paper’s OSU beat writer in 1987. He introduced me to the newcomer.

“Jim, I want you to meet the newest member of our Sports staff, Berry Tramel,” Tom told me as I shook Berry’s hand.

Although I had worked as a copy editor on the Sports desk at the Oklahoman since 1983, I didn’t know Tramel, who worked as a sports writer at the Norman Transcript.

Something happened, however, and Berry did not become a member of The Oklahoman’s Sports staff until 1991. Maybe the Transcript offered him a raise or he still had things to accomplish at the Norman paper.

But Berry eventually joined The Oklahoman staff and became our lead sports columnist. He quickly established himself as one of the top sports writers not only in Oklahoma but across the nation.

I don’t remember much of that first conversation with Berry at the ballpark, but eventually I found him to be warm, empathetic, approachable and the most prolific and hard-working writer I’ve ever known.

Berry writes in what I consider a folksy manner that carries the reader along. He has an incredible ability to uncover the critical issue that may be plaguing — or helping — a team, a coach, a school, a state, whatever. And he’s a walking encyclopedia of sports history.

Berry’s most influential article of them all may be the infamous “Taco Bell” column from the late 1990s when he compared OU’s hiring of John Blake to a company that put a management trainee in charge of the entire business.

You can read the column here.

Berry Taco Bell

Not everyone loves his style — ask my friend, Casey — but he’s attracted a huge following far and near over the years. Including me.

Berry was joined on The Oklahoman Sports staff in the late 1990s by Jenni Carlson, a Kansas native who brings a unique point of view to whatever she’s writing about. I’ve come to know Jenni, as well, and love reading her intriguing takes that often focus on people who have overcome long odds to become successful.

I’ve written all of this because, as most people know by now, both Berry and Jenni are leaving the paper. They’re joining a new online venture called The Sellout, Sellout Crowd, or something like that. It should debut later this month, from what I understand.

I got wind of Berry’s impending exit about three weeks ago and immediately sent him an email with the subject line “Say It Ain’t So.”

Berry responded and said it was so. He said it’s a good thing, not bad, because readers who follow him and Jenni will be able to read their work in a free online newsletter. He even wrote about his impending departure from the paper after billboards appeared saying “Berry Tramel is a Sellout.”

But I’m mourning for the newspaper because of the loss of such immense talent. I was part of that newsroom as a writer and editor for over two decades.

Although I’ve been gone from The Oklahoman for almost 15 years, I’m still a subscriber and a daily reader of the newspaper. I still pick it up off my driveway every morning (except Saturday).

We all know that the Internet has changed the way people consume news, sending the newspaper industry into a long decline, including The Oklahoman. In my opinion, the paper has done a great job of building its online enterprise while still keeping print alive.

For now.

But the loss of Berry and Jenni is a huge blow to readers like me who look forward to unfolding the paper every day (but Saturday) and seeing what one or both have written for us. Who can replace them?

So, what’s next? I’m anxiously watching as the leaves continue to fall from the tree and the newsroom branches become bare.

Say it ain’t so.

Berry Jenni1

Class Reunion, Party of Two

yearbook ppic — A page of the 1971 Southside High School yearbook, ‘Lifestyles’

I walked into Cattlemen’s Steakhouse a few weeks ago, made my way to a back booth and was greeted by someone I had not seen in 52 years. He was an old high school chum, so it was the ultimate class reunion.

We both graduated in 1971 from Southside High School in Fort Smith, Ark. I was astounded by how much he still resembled his youthful high school self, despite now being 70 years old.

I have not aged as gracefully.

Turns out, my friend, whom I will call “Will,” was driving from New Mexico to Fort Smith to visit our home town for a few days. So, he contacted me to see if I would be up for a reunion as he passed through.

Would I? Of course!

We spent a wonderful hour and a half at a back booth catching up on our lives, families and reminiscing about days long past.

The real story is how Will found me. He told me he stumbled across this blog as he was searching for some high school classmates he had not seen in years. After reading a few BlogOKC posts, he decided to reach out, although he has no social media presence at all.

So his wife looked me up and discovered my Twitter profile. She sent me a direct message asking if I would be interested in meeting Will when he was passing through OKC.

I’ve thought of Will often over the years. He was from a well established Fort Smith family and had gone to public schools there since first grade. I moved into the school district my sophomore year only because my dad was in the Army and his military assignments took us as a family around the world. We came to Fort Smith when Dad went to Vietnam in 1969.

Being a ‘move-in’ with no local history in an old Southern town like Fort Smith was a big challenge for me. Making friends, eating lunch in the cafeteria, having a social life after school.

For some reason, Will sort of took me in. We played basketball on his driveway and connected in classes. As I recall, he was a member of the National Honor Society, wrote a column for the student newspaper and was on the Student Council, among many other school activities.

By contrast, I was sort of the Invisible Man at Southside. I had only heard of the National Honor Society, but had a secret dream to become a newspaper reporter some day. So, we had that in common.

Anyway, Will showed kindness and attention to me. After high school, he went on to college, eventually earning a master’s degree, moving to a distant state and working for social change.

I wandered aimlessly for a few years before gaining some direction by attending Abilene Christian University and earning a journalism degree. My secret dream actually came true.

Since I have never attended a single high school class reunion, I lost touch with Will along with the rest of my senior classmates.

Then he called.

There’s a lot of space to fill and life to live in 52 years. But reconnecting with my old classmate was the feel good event of the summer for me.

So good to see you, Will.

The wisdom of Linus: Be nice, and always carry a blanket

The floor is about the only place to stretch out at Chicago O’Hare International Airport.

Editor’s Note: Don Mecoy is a friend and former colleague at The Oklahoman who retired as the newspaper’s managing editor at the end of 2022. Don recently experienced the challenge of navigating the commercial airline system when multiple flights were cancelled as he attempted to return to Oklahoma City from Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. He shared his reaction to the experience in this blog post.

By Don Mecoy

I recently got a taste of homelessness. I wasn’t actually without a home, but I temporarily lacked access to some basic needs such as food and a place to sleep. It was a frustrating and instructional experience.

I was homeless the way that Barack Obama is jobless. I was fine.

My situation was the same that millions of Americans find themselves in every year — my flight was cancelled and I was abandoned at a large metropolitan airport. My fellow passengers and I were shooed off our American Airlines plane at about 1 a.m. last Sunday — five hours after the planned departure — and told that we would not be flying from Chicago O’Hare International Airport to Oklahoma City anytime soon. The airline offered little to help us deal with the situation or to appeal to our better nature — $12 food vouchers (all the restaurants and stores were closed until 5 a.m.); no hotel vouchers (there were no rooms available within miles of the airport anyway), and no concrete information on when we might get back to good ol’ OKC.

After a lot of waiting in lines, hand-wringing and watching our flight’s self-designated Chad unload on the helpless, but genial gate attendant, we former passengers got down to the business of making the best of a bad situation.

About a dozen simply checked out, heading off to Ubers and Lyfts to whisk them away to someplace with food and blankets, or perhaps to rent a car and drive the 12 hours to Oklahoma City. I’m not sure; I never saw them again.

I could have done the same and returned to my son’s apartment in the West Loop area of downtown Chicago. But it hardly seemed worth it for a few hours of sleep and a very early return to O’Hare, particularly since I didn’t know what time our flight was. Within a few minutes of our flight being scratched, my American Airlines app showed the next departure for my flight changing from 12:30 a.m. to 3 a.m. to 6 a.m. to 10:40 a.m. The gracious gate attendant said she “hoped” that 10:40 time would hold. It didn’t.

The rest of us started cracking open suitcases and putting on more clothes. It was freezing in the cavernous, empty airport. I once interviewed a guy who helped run what is now called Paycom Center. He told me they crank up the air conditioning long before Thunder games or other big events to account for the body heat and activity of the 18,000 or so people who will fill the arena. Perhaps that’s what the airport folks were doing in anticipation for the next day’s crowds. But the A/C never stopped producing a chilling breeze that was unavoidable everywhere except in the middle of the concourse, and I wasn’t going to sleep on those tiled floors.

There are thousands of pieces of furniture in O’Hare, and just like at every airport, they are designed to be impossible to sleep on. You’ve seen them, essentially long couches, but with stainless steel arms demarcating where each individual should sit. They work fine when you’re waiting for a plane. But when seeking a place to lay your weary head, it makes you ponder why they don’t make those arms movable like the armrests on the planes. It’s needlessly cruel. Of course, cities do the same with park benches and walls to discourage those with no bed from making one in a public place. A bed is a very important thing when you don’t have one. And a blanket.

Meanwhile, directly across from the gate where we waited to secure our food vouchers was American Airline’s Admirals Club, an expansive area for the airline’s most lucrative customers that offers recliners, food and drink, showers and other amenities. I bet they even have blankets in there. It was closed. Here’s a suggestion, American: Give the beleaguered gate attendant a key so she can offer something to abandoned folks like us. What a waste.

Seating in the American Airlines Admirals Club at Chicago O’Hare International Airport.

And lest you think the powers that be at O’Hare are heartless. There is a yoga room in the airport. It closes at 10 p.m. I would have paid good money for one of those yoga mats. Instead, I swiped a floor mat from behind a ticket counter to soften the concrete floor covered with — like every airport I’ve ever been to — the thinnest grade of carpet known to man.

I took my pilfered floor mat and began to build a nest in a semi-isolated place. I draped most of the shirts in my suitcase atop the three shirts I was wearing, rolled up a pair of pants for a pillow and tried to nap. It was futile. After what felt like an hour of trying to get comfortable, I had to get up and move to warm up. I dragged the floor mat to a fellow passenger attempting to sleep on the bare carpet. She was grateful. She had a blanket. Man, a blanket. Luxury!

Another annoyance: At nearly every gate in O’Hare there is a TV. All those TVs play the same loop of programming that includes ads for stores and restaurants in the airport. It also features Conan O’Brien interviewing Kevin Bacon on how the star’s life was changed by the recent emergence of COVID. I looked it up: the interview was taped on April 9, 2020. It was impossible to turn off the TVs, or the sound broadcast through overhead speakers. Believe me, I tried.

So I was tired, hungry, bored, but not really upset. I wasn’t missing a wedding or funeral or graduation back home. I had the wherewithal to simply leave if my health or safety was a real concern. I learned that McDonald’s was going to open at 4 a.m., so I was an hour closer to food. My fellow passengers and I seemed to enjoy strategizing about our situation amid our shared misery.

Among our group was the tallest (6 foot 2), most mature 15-year-old I’ve ever met. He was traveling alone, was not allowed to leave the airport and nevertheless was handling the situation better than 90 percent of his fellow refugees. I met the gaze of another parent, and we shared a look that felt like a silent promise that this kid was going to get home. As the sun rose, I had a conversation with a lady from Moore about our favorite books we had read while on airplanes.

After climbing off the floor around 2:30 a.m. or so, I somehow was able to book an 8:30 a.m. flight on my American Airlines app. I hurried to tell some of my fellow passengers about the discovery, but no one was able to reproduce it. A dozen or more were placed on standby for that flight, and at least four of them — including the gangly 15-year-old — boarded along with me.

Our original flight finally took off at 1:11 p.m., roughly 17 hours after it was scheduled to depart. By that time, I was well fed and sound asleep in my bed. With my blanket.

All in all, it was not a terrible experience. And it drove home a couple of maxims that I long have believed true.

Be nice. It costs nothing, and you might make a friend; perhaps even ease someone’s pain. You don’t really know what struggles anyone is dealing with, so cut folks some slack.

If you see someone carrying a blanket or a piece of foam, or wearing layer upon layer of clothing, or trying to beg, borrow or steal some food, they’re just trying to make the best of a bad situation. Have a heart.

MORE READING: My daughter, Sarah Stafford, had a similar experience that I wrote about in this blog post back in January.

A short thread on Threads

I’m here today to write about the new social media platform, Threads. But first I have to talk about Twitter, because without the bird app, I’m pretty sure there would not be a Threads.

Back in the Spring of 2008, my friend Russ Florence invited me to connect with him on Twitter, a social media platform that debuted in 2006. I was in the final year of my career as a reporter at The Oklahoman.

So, I signed up on the app and followed Russ as my lone Twitter connection.

As a Twitter newbie, I didn’t realize there was a big Twitter world out there with lots of potential accounts to follow. I loved following Russ and his personal tweets like the one from the day his dishwasher quit on him.

But one day I happened to look at Russ’s profile and saw he was following scores of other Twitter accounts. So I clicked on his follow list. It opened a new world to me because there were so many news and technology sources that I didn’t realize existed until that moment.

I followed a couple dozen right off the bat, and my interest in Twitter grew exponentially.

What I loved about it was being able to follow big national media sources like the New York Times and NPR, or more local sites like The Oklahoman and Tulsa World. Plus there were sports accounts like ESPN, and eventually MLB, NBA and NFL. I got instant alerts anytime there was breaking news or sports.

Plus there was a growing number of Oklahomans joining every day, providing local perspectives.

I enjoyed Twitter immensely, because, until Donald Trump started opining 30 times a day on Twitter on the run-up to the 2016 election, there were few of what I call the Crazy Uncles on Twitter that you frequently find on Facebook. It was upbeat and fun.

Fast forward to 2022.

Billionaire Elon Musk completed his purchase of Twitter in October, and it’s all been downhill from there. Musk encouraged less-than-objective news sources to begin posting on Twitter. He appealed to the type of voices like podcaster Joe Rogan, who broadcast and repeat misinformation. Trolls blossomed. New rules were imposed that limited the number of tweets a subscriber could view on a daily basis.

With all that roiling long-time Twitter subscribers, along comes Threads, owned by Meta and launched through Instagram. I heard about it and signed up on Day 2. By the end of the week (last week!) I read that 110 million individual accounts had opened.

Threads looks suspiciously like Twitter in that you can comment, like and repost items with or without your own commentary. In fact, Twitter has threatened to sue Meta over the copycat status of Threads.

The downside I’ve seen so far is that you can’t set up lists that contain just the accounts — Threaders? — or topics you want to see, and posts aren’t presented in chronological order. And there’s no Threads site set up for Mac or (I assume) Windows computer users — it’s all mobile based so far.

But I’ve read those features are coming soon. Read this article from the Wall Street Journal, if you want to know more about Threads.

So, here’s my dilemma and that of millions of other long-time Twitter users. Many — including me — have made their living posting items on behalf of employers to Twitter accounts that are well established and have many followers. Many thought leaders still post regularly to Twitter, although you can find many of the same folks over on Threads.

Instead of just dropping my Twitter account, I’m hanging on, checking both Threads and my Twitter feed on a fairly regular basis.

Until further notice, I’ll be tweeting and threading simultaneously. I welcome followers on both.

Twitter: @James_Stafford
Threads: @jimstafford

Below is a sample Threads post. Seems familiar?

The Walkable City on my mind

Walkable1 — With the help of urban planner Jeff Speck, OKC’s downtown became an inviting, walkable urban center.

I just read Jeff Speck’s “Walkable City: How Downtown Can Save America, One Step at a Time,” and I don’t know where to start with my reaction.

Do I question my choice of a virtually unwalkable neighborhood in which we live?

Do I celebrate the incredible strides Oklahoma City has taken to make our downtown livable AND walkable?

Do I ask about how a city like OKC can apply any of these principles in older, economically challenged neighborhoods that don’t lend themselves to walking?

First of all, it’s an engaging book that provides dozens of examples of cities that provide both good and bad environments for walking and urban life.

Jeff Speck, you might remember, is the urban planner and author who advocates making urban areas pedestrian friendly to encourage both economic development and urban living spaces. He consulted with the City of OKC about 15 years ago that resulted in big changes downtown, especially in the elimination of most one-way streets.

Speck outlines what he considers 10 important steps to remaking a downtown into an urban area that encourages walking (or biking) and puts cars in their place. It’s often a diatribe against city engineers, whose No. 1 mission appears to be accommodating the automobile.

Here’s a Q&A that my friend and former colleague Steve Lackmeyer did with Speck back in 2013 when he came to town for a book signing event for Walkable City. As far as I recall, there are only two mentions of OKC in Walkable City, although I think it may have been written before he dove into the challenge of remaking our downtown.

So, first, let me address my own neighborhood. My family lives in Twin Oaks, which is technically an Oklahoma City neighborhood but far removed (16 miles!) from downtown and as car-centric of a living space as possible. There’s no nearby transit, little retail within walking distance and from my own experience, a real disconnect between the people who live here and downtown OKC.

Walk Score1 In fact, according to the Walk Score website that considers a number of factors for specific locations, Twin Oaks scores a 19 out of 100, or “car dependent,” according to the website. We also score a 0 for access to transit and a Bike Score of 25 for “somewhat bikeable.”

So, it’s a pretty serious indictment of this part of town as far as our urban environment.

As far as my neighbors, I’m not sure they care about what’s happening downtown, because it seems that few ever travel to downtown. I’ve even heard some question the city’s investment in amenities like our wonderful Scissortail Park.

Although this is where I’ve raised my family, in part because of proximity to excellent schools, I still count myself as a downtown advocate who’s proud of what has been achieved.

That brings me to the second question. Of course, I celebrate what our downtown has become and encourage my reluctant neighbors to join in. The remake of downtown since the passage of the first MAPs package has enhanced OKC’s reputation beyond measure.

Our population growth numbers reflect it. OKC grew from 444,000 in 1990 to more than 687,000 in 2021, advancing from the nation’s 30th largest city to the 20th overall.

City Growth I worked downtown in the 1980s, and I can assure you there was little to brag about. We had one downtown hotel, the Sheraton, a failed retail mall and absolutely no one on the sidewalks after 5 pm. Downtown was a ghost town on weekends.

Contrast that with the life you can now find downtown virtually any day of the week, from restaurants, hotels, Bricktown, to the Chesapeake Arena and our magnificent downtown park. It’s a wonderful place to spend time.

My final question seems more difficult to address.

We’re celebrating downtown and the walkability and the life it has, but how do we address our city neighborhoods with lots of economic need? Not just walkability but creating sustainable lives and welcoming neighborhoods that support the people who live there.

I’m talking about many of those on the south side, east side and just west of downtown.

That’s the sort of question that some folks in my church asked about two decades ago. Paul and Suzanne Whitmire led the establishment of the Cross & Crown Mission at 1008 N. Mckinley, an area that teemed with abandoned houses and residents in need of jobs, food and someone who actually cared.

Since they started Cross & Crown with the help of dozens of volunteers, the Whitmires have virtually remade that neighborhood, buying and rehabbing abandoned houses, giving away food and clothing every week and helping people deal with other challenges that poverty brings.

You should check out Cross & Crown and have a conversation with Paul, who is incredibly passionate about the Mission and its, well, mission. Here’s a Q&A I did with Pau Whitmire about a year or so back.

Paul and Suzanne Whitmire show what can be done.

Anyway, my point is that we’re excited to see the revitalization of downtown and the great vibe it created for our city. Neighborhoods like mine can take care of themselves, but there are still vast areas of OKC that need a spark like that brought by Cross & Crown.

Actually, Speck has an answer for the question of why focus so heavily on downtown.

“The downtown is the only part of the city that belongs to everybody,” he writes. “It doesn’t matter where you may find your home, the downtown is yours, too. Investing in the downtown of a city is the only place-based way to benefit all of its citizens at once.”

Still, I hope that as we celebrate the progress made with a walkable, inviting downtown, we consider ways to help far-flung OKC neighborhoods that need their own walkability initiatives.

They’ve been written off far too long.
Walkable3

For Ed, Cardinals baseball a lifelong ‘addiction’

Ozzie Go Crazy — Ozzie Smith’s St. Louis Cardinals teammates celebrate his game-winning home run vs. the Dodgers in the 1985 playoffs

Editor’s note: My friend Ed Godfrey grew up in Eastern Oklahoma as a passionate St. Louis Cardinals fan, a devotion that began by listening to their games on his family’s big console radio. More than 50 years later, Ed remains a baseball fan and still follows the Cardinals with the same passion as he did as a 10-year-old Stigler Little Leaguer. I asked him to write about what sparked his fandom for the team from St. Louis, and he obliged with this essay.

By Ed Godfrey
When I was a kid, baseball was king. That gives you a clue to how old I am. Yes, I am old enough to draw Social Security.

I played Little League baseball, proudly donning the uniforms of King’s Tire Service, Guaranty Abstract and Davis Packing Company, some of the generous sponsors in Stigler who allowed the town’s pre-teen youth to live out their summer dreams on the ball diamond.

Like the Cardinals great utility man in the ’80s, Jose Oquendo, I would play everywhere on the field at some point. Dad nixed my playing days at catcher after just one game because he was afraid I would get hurt.

Center field was my best position, but I also took the bump a lot. I didn’t have Nuke LaLoosh stuff, but I could do what often none of my other teammates could do. Throw the ball over the plate.

Man, I loved baseball. Whenever I had a dime, I would ride my bicycle the six blocks from home to the Five & and Dime store in downtown Stigler and buy a pack of baseball cards.

I was a pretty avid card collector in the early ’70s. And yeah, I stupidly put some of them on the spokes of my bike and glued others in a scrapbook, but most of my treasures are still intact. Thank you, mom, for not throwing away my baseball cards.

As you get older, I think the more you want to go back and be a kid again. That’s why I still buy baseball cards today. Nostalgia.

Back when I was a kid, I didn’t miss the major league game of the week on Saturday afternoons. Yeah, we got one baseball game on television each week. I also loved This Week in Baseball narrated by Mel Allen.

And I was a frequent listener of Major League Baseball games on the radio. This is how I became a St. Louis Cardinals fan.

First of all, the Cardinals were really good in the late ’60s. When I was 7, they won the ’67 World Series over the Red Sox. Then when I was 8, they lost the ’68 World Series to the Tigers.

(Don’t ask me about the ’85 World Series against the Royals, I am still ticked off about Game 6. Now, Game 6 of the 2011 World Series Game 6, that one was magical)

For many years, the Cardinals were the only major league team west of the Mississippi River and they developed a loyal following thanks to mighty KMOX-AM radio, which had a long reach throughout the South and Midwest.

KMOX helped turn countless families into Cardinals fans since 1926, including a kid in Stigler, Oklahoma.

When the Cardinals played on the West Coast and games started past my bedtime, I would sneak a transistor radio under my pillow so I could still listen to the broadcast without my parents knowing.

Console Otherwise, I would listen to games on our bulky old stereo-record combo that we had in our living room. In 1971, and I can still hear Jack Buck’s call of Bob Gibson striking out Willie Stargell to end the game for Gibby’s only no-hitter of his career.

“If you were here, it would have made you cry,” Buck proclaimed.

I wasn’t there but I felt like I was, thanks to one of the great baseball announcers in history.

When the Cardinals made the playoffs in the ’80s, every game, of course, was televised. But I turned the volume down on the TV and tuned in the radio for the play by play to listen to Buck.
I got to hear his great “Go Crazy” call in the ’85 National League Championship Series against the Dodgers when Ozzie Smith unexpectedly hit the game-winning homer in Game 5.

I did “Go Crazy” in my apartment in Edmond, leaping from the sofa and landing on my knees in front of my TV in celebration.

A few years later I started dating my future wife. She tolerated my obsession with the Cardinals and actually enjoyed listening to Buck’s voice, even though she knew little about baseball.

Instead of going out on the town one Friday night, she drove from Norman to my apartment in Edmond and agreed to watch the Cardinals-Braves game with me on what was then Ted Turner’s superstation, TBS, which carried all the Braves games.

I promised we would go out for dinner after the game. It lasted 22 innings. My man Oquendo even came in and pitched when the Cardinals’ bullpen was depleted. (Told you he was a great utility player). He pitched several scoreless innings, but the Cards couldn’t get him a run and they lost.

Linda watched all 22 innings and never complained. Maybe she slept through an inning or two, I can’t remember for sure, but the point is she stayed until the end and then drove back home in the early morning hours. As Buck would say, “That’s a winner.”

I don’t listen to Cardinal games on the radio anymore because Buck and his broadcast partner, Mike Shannon, are no longer with us. Nothing against the new announcers, but it’s not the same for me.

This summer, I even stopped watching the Cardinals on TV because they stink this season. It’s been a long time since they have been this bad.

Well, the truth is I haven’t quit on them completely. I still sneak a peek once a while to see if the bullpen is going to blow another game and then I start cussing when they do.

It’s a lifelong addiction.

Steve Jobs in his own words

Steve Jobs during 2005 Stanford Commencement speech.

If you follow this blog or know me personally, you’re probably aware that I’m a fan of Apple Inc. and its co-founder, the late Steve Jobs.

Jobs’ story is well known. Co-founding Apple in 1976 with Steve Wozniak; building the Apple I in the garage of his childhood home; creating the Macintosh computer in 1984; getting fired from his own company in 1985; returning to Apple a decade later to become CEO and leading development of groundbreaking products.

The company has since soared to incredible financial stature.

Along the way, Jobs was diagnosed with cancer and eventually died from it in October 2011.

Books have been written about Jobs after his death and movies made about his life. I’ve read two books that I would highly recommend, especially Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson. The other is Becoming Steve Jobs by Brent Schlender and Rick Tetzeli.

The Isaacson book sort of reinforces the image I had of Jobs as a creative person who drove himself and others really hard, mostly without tact or apparent empathy. As much as I admire the innovations he brought to the market, I don’t think I could have worked for Steve Jobs.

But I’m still a fan, because of his enormous impact on our world (iPhone, anyone?). And the fact that the arc of his life reads like a Greek tragedy.

So, when I discovered Make Something Wonderful: Steve Jobs in His Own Words, published by the Steve Jobs Archive, I had to read it, too.

Available for free on Apple Books or on the Web at the Steve Jobs Archive, the 319-page book contains speeches, presentations and emails by Jobs.

It’s sort of the ultimate inside look at how he thought and worked, especially the emails he sent to himself with information and thoughts he didn’t want to let get away.

There are lots of good quotes in the book, including the entire transcript of his 2005 Stanford University Commencement speech. You can also watch it on YouTube.

So, I’ve selected a few quotes that I found memorable and will share in this post.

For instance, way back in 1983, Steve already saw the future in which computers were going to tie millions of people around the world together though networking capabilities. The Internet was about 6 months old, and few people actually knew it existed.

Talking to the International Design Conference in Aspen in June of that year, Jobs said:

“… I think that that’s exactly what’s going to happen as we start to tie these things [computers] together: they’re going to facilitate communication and facilitate bringing people together in the special interests that they have.
And we’re about five years away from really solving the problems of hooking these computers together in the office. And we’re about ten to fifteen years away from solving the problems of hooking them together in the home.”

In a 1984 speech to Apple employees the day before the Macintosh debuts in the famous “1984” ad run during the Super Bowl:

“IBM wants it all, and is aiming its guns on its last obstacle to industry control: Apple. Will Big Blue dominate the entire computer industry? [Audience: No!] The entire information age? [Audience: No!] Was George Orwell right about 1984?”

In a 1984 interview with reporter Michael Moritz:

“I want to build products that are inherently smaller than any of the products on the market today. And when you make things smaller, you have the ability to make them more precisely. Obviously, a perfect example of that is a watch. It’s beautiful, but the precision has to be the scale of the object itself, and so you make it very precise.”

From a 1996 speech to Palo Alto, Calif., high school students:

“Be a creative person. Creativity equals connecting previously unrelated experiences and insights that others don’t see. You have to have them to connect them. Creative people feel guilty that they are simply relaying what they “see.” How do you get a more diverse set of experiences? Not by traveling the same path as everyone else …”

In an email exchange in 1997 with a software engineer after returning to Apple as Interim-then-full-time CEO:

“… there is something good here worth saving. I don’t quite know how to express it, but it has to do with the fact that Apple is the ONLY alternative to Windows and that Apple can still inject some new thinking into the equation.”

Finally, an excerpt from his Stanford Commencement speech in 2005, a year after he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Before his death, Fortune magazine called him the Beethoven of the business world. That’s a pretty good description.

I highly recommend Make Something Wonderful if you are a fanboy like me or merely curious about Steve Jobs.

Bright blue skies — until next storm hits

The annual NAMI Walks Oklahoma event went off under a bright blue sky at Lower Scissortail Park

Living with a family member who suffers from mental illness reminds me of the weather. There are sunny, cloudless days when blue skies make you optimistic about a bright future. Then the clouds gather and an unexpected rain washes away your unrealistic hopes.

I had one of those blue-sky days on Saturday, literally.

I participated in the annual NAMI Walks Oklahoma event at Lower Scissortail Park on a beautiful, sunny and cloudless day.

Sponsored by NAMI Oklahoma, hundreds of people gathered to walk in support of NAMI’s mission to end the stigma of mental health. It was a great morning.

Although I’m a huge fan of OKC’s Scissortail Park, I had my doubts about how well the newly opened Lower Park would serve the NAMI Walks event.

Too isolated. Not enough parking. An unfamiliar venue south of I-40.

Not to worry. Folks found their way to the park with no problems. And while parking was at a premium, NAMI Oklahoma arranged for a shuttle bus that would take people from free parking areas across from the Paycom Center down to the lower park.

Better yet, the weather matched the festive mood. Bright blue skies and warming temperatures.

So, we had a great time as we listened to the beat of the music selected by the DJ, connected with old acquaintances and heard stories of overcoming anxiety and depression from speakers like Ashley Ehrhart. A former Miss Oklahoma USA and a member of the OKC Thunder Girl dance team, Ehrhart advocates for mental health from her own experience.

There was a Zumba exercise class that broke out, games for kids and ‘Mabel,’ the double-decker English bus from Junction Coffee that had a line of customers all morning.

Then at 10 am, the emcee counted it down and the actual Walk began on a 2 kilometer course over the Lower Scissortail walking trails. The sight of watching hundreds of people marching north toward the upper park and eventually back south on the west side was awesome. There were dogs, strollers, children and large groups wearing matching T-shirts.

I took scores of bad photos as I walked along the course on both the east and west sides.

Anyway, my reservations about the venue were totally unfounded. It teemed with life and enthusiasm. And the bright blue sky fueled my optimism that folks living with mental illness and their families can find that better place.

At least until the next storm hits.

Chatbot comes alive for OKC audience in demo

Dodd AI3 — Bucky Dodd, Ph.D., founder & CEO of technology firm ClearKinetic, demonstrates an AI Chatbot at a recent OKC meeting.

“If you came here today for answers, I’m sorry, you will probably leave with more questions.”

That’s how Bucky Dodd, Ph.D., a long-time educator and CEO of an educational technology startup called ClearKinetic, launched his presentation on Artificial Intelligence last week to a group of association executives at the OKC Convention Center.

Dodd obviously follows author Stephen Covey and his 7 habits of a highly effective person.

Begin with the end in mind.

But Dodd’s presentation was more of a show-and-tell to his audience from the Oklahoma Society of Association Executives. He prompted a Chatbot to actually generate some amazing content for us.

I happened to be there at the invitation of a friend who knew I had an interest in AI and had previously written about it.

Questions from the audience began even before the presentation. What about AI’s impact on jobs? What about plagiarism?

Those are certainly legitimate concerns, but Dodd explained that AI, more specifically the Open AI ChatGPT that he demonstrated, are tools built on large language models. It is taught to respond and create content from information humans have created in the real world.

Then he got down to the real purpose of the presentation.

Demonstration.

And it was impressive.

With an audience of association executives, Dodd commanded Chat GPT to write copy geared especially to association professionals. First, he told it to write web content promoting an association convention.

Chatbot wrote the content at an amazing speed, maybe 90 words a minute like that showoff in my high school typing class. The copy was appropriate and engaging.

Then he had Chatbot write an email invitation to prospective convention goers, as well as an email to potential convention sponsors. Next, Chatbot wrote three social media posts for a LinkedIn audience.

But the real eye opener for me was when Dodd told Chatbot to write code for a convention landing page. He wrote a prompt to Chatbot that said “create code for a one-page landing page to promote the conference using HTML, in line CSS, which is cascading style sheet, and include a call to action button in the top right of the website.”

Boom! The computer started writing code like it had been coding for years.

When it was done, Dodd clicked on a button and the code instantly turned into a complete webpage with placeholders for the association’s logo.

Someone asked how did the Chatbot know he was asking for an association webpage.

“Because it’s in a chat window, it’s using the context of the things that came above it to generate it’s next response,” Dodd said.

Then he commanded Chatbot to write an exciting announcement about the conference in the style of Shakespeare.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” Chatbot started out as the audience laughed.

Dodd also showcased another AI called Adobe Firefly that generates images and graphics. An audience member suggested a picture of a penguin holding an umbrella in the snow, and it took maybe 15 seconds for Firefly to draw four separate images of penguins holding red umbrellas. In the snow.

As the presentation concluded, there were more questions, of course. Can Chatbot create logos? Add photos to a webpage? Copyrights? Who owns the content? Chatbot accuracy?

“Because they are machine driven, (Chatbot) can sometimes what they call ‘hallucinate,’ ” he said. “It will generate with a high-degree of confidence very inaccurate information.”

We were impressed, but we still had questions about AI’s future — and our own.

“AI should be used in ways to enhance human creativity and not get in its way,” Dodd said. “We have to recognize that it’s here, but use it in a very intentional and appropriate way.”

Good luck with that.

BONUS — I wrote another blog post back in January that featured Tulsa software developer John Hassell and his experience of implementing AI into his daily workflow. Read it here.

Dodd AI2 — Bucky Dodd, Ph.D., writes commands to Chat GPT that are instantly carried out on the screen during his demo.

Stick it to The Man

Tennessee MAN — The showdown recently in the Tennessee Legislature

A few days before Oklahoma voted down a proposal to legalize recreational marijuana across the state, a friend and I discussed the issue over coffee. He said he was voting ‘yes’ to the initiative, despite the fact that he has no interest in using marijuana.

I asked him why.

“I want to stick it to The Man,” he said.

I’m right there with you, my friend.

Sticking it to The Man has become a personal avocation for me as I’ve approached my angry old man years (GET OFF MY LAWN!).

Of course, defining exactly who ‘The Man’ is can be a moving target.

In my mind, The Man is an older, wealthy white guy sitting in a corner suite in a tower office, pouring money into campaigns and candidates that promise to resist change at all costs or take America back to the 1950s.

You know, when everyone knew their place. Wink. Wink.

I am a child of the South, so I know how Jim Crow laws were enforced by The Man all over the South until the mid-1960s.

The emergence of MAGA and Red State legislators in today’s world have an eerie resemblance to their ancestors who set up a society in which white folks were guaranteed by law to be the ruling class.

Some famous examples of sticking it to The Man from the past:

Rosa Parks refused to yield her seat to a white person on a bus in Montgomery, Ala., and helped launch the Civil Rights movement.

Clara Luper led a group of young people into a downtown Oklahoma City drug store in 1958 where they sat at the lunch counter until they were served in a time when Jim Crow laws still enforced segregation.

Jackie Robinson became the first African-American to play in a Major League Baseball game on April 15, 1947 when he started at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Major League Baseball had operated as a segregated sport for almost a hundred years.

Want to see a current-day for-instance?

We can look to the Tennessee legislature to see The Man in action. Less than two weeks ago, the white Republican legislative majority was so offended that people protested lack of restraints on purchase and ownership of assault weapons that they expelled two Black legislators who participated in a protest on the floor of the House.

The two offending legislators had joined a group of young people making their voices heard after a gunman used a high powered rifle to kill six children and teachers at a Nashville elementary school.

Less than a week after they were expelled, county commissioners in Nashville and Memphis reinstated both legislators. Now that’s sticking it to The Man.

I took great pleasure in seeing their reinstatement.

Yet another example of sticking it to The Man, which in this case was an institution: Billy Beane and the Oakland A’s embraced a system of statistical analysis that turned the way of judging talent by Major League Baseball upside down.

Read the book Moneyball to see how it all went down, or watch the movie starring Brad Pitt.

Sticking it to The Man has been a common theme in movies across the years. Perhaps my favorite is the movie Office Space, which follows a group of young office workers stuck in mind-numbing jobs with an over-the-top intrusive manager and a balky printer.

They stick it to The Man in several ways, but my favorite is a scene where they load the hated printer into the trunk of a car, drive it to a remote location and take out their anger on it with a baseball bat — in slow motion.

Watch the scene here.

My attempts to stick it to The Man are more low key. For instance, I once worked in an office where we were forbidden to download any unapproved software, including my browser of choice, Google Chrome. The IT department told us it ‘did not support’ Chrome, so we were stuck with Microsoft Explorer.

Then a coworker discovered that we could download Chrome without it being blocked by the IT lockdown. I downloaded it and used it for years of software bliss and satisfaction in knowing I was sticking it to The Man in a small way.

OK, I know that’s not a society changing act like leading a group of students to a lunch-counter sit-in. My place in history is on a much, much smaller scale.

But I’ve used the power of the vote to support causes like the expansion of Medicaid in Oklahoma and medical marijuana, both of which had heavy opposition from those in power.

When both of those questions passed, I celebrated to myself, knowing that I had a small part in sticking it to The Man.

OfficeSp2