Steve Jobs, genius extraordinaire, who co-founded Apple Inc. in 1976, back when I was too young to comprehend my participation in that revolution, passed away seven years ago on October 5, 2011 after an almost eight- year battle with a less aggressive form of pancreatic cancer.
When I heard the news, I was in my Upper East Side studio apartment, trying to meet my deadline with the help of the MacBook that I secured as a Christmas present to myself in December 2008. I remember being elated that I was finally able to afford my very first product from Apple, and I didn’t even care when I discovered a month later that my ambitious purchase was the last of its kind.
The iPhone came into my life via an ex-boyfriend who thought it a romantic idea to present me with a refurbished model that he proudly boasted didn’t cost him much.
So when it was confirmed that the ailing creator of my most prized possessions had succumbed to the symptoms of being a powerless human — I was ashamed to notice the pangs of worry that dominated my immediate thoughts — as I pondered the future of Steve Jobs’ exceptional legacy.
Fast forward to the present, and I can almost guarantee that he would be appalled at the state of affairs as it pertains to the quality of products that no longer match the attached price stickers — that have…
