HIGH DESERT SATORI

No, I thought -- it couldn't be!

A few weeks ago, you see, I was driving south from Colorado when I spied a strangely familiar hitchhiker. People waiting for rides are a common sight in this part of the world, though I seldom risk assisting. Some are looking for the Sixties, some are pilgrims, and some are simply getting by the best they can. In this case, I was somehow sure I knew the man, and so I stopped. A tall, thin, bearded fellow wearing a dusty turtleneck and ragged bluejeans climbed slowly and gratefully into the truck. His eyes, when they met mine, seemed to glow with a depth and serenity I had not experienced in an encounter with a fellow human being for many years.

My guest was headed for California, though he professed to be in no hurry: "I'll only have to turn off the lights when I get there," he smiled, alluding to the Golden State's shrinking power supply. The tale the stranger told as we drove south toward Taos was so astonishing, I hesitate to even begin this narrative. I know for certain it will be met with disbelief or hostilty. It may even endanger the life of he who passed it on to me. For as you surely have guessed by now, the man I thought I recognized by the side of that lonely desert highway was none other than the missing CEO of Apple Computer, Inc., Steve Jobs!

This was not the man I had seen demo OS X at Macworld. That Steve Jobs, the battle-hardened veteran of countless elevator chew-outs, was not the Jobs sitting across from me in the cab of my '87 Ford F-150, gazing quietly at the passing scenery. No, this was an utterly changed being. Every movement of his body was considered, gentle, and aware. After a few miles I could stand it no longer and stuttered, "Are you g-going to Macworld?"

"Oh yes," he answered, turning to face me for a long moment before returning his eyes to the Sangre de Christos, now turning pink in the light of the setting sun. "Oh yes," he repeated, more slowly this time and almost in a whisper, as if speaking to himself. "They need to be told." And then he began the story which most of you will not believe myself on first hearing, a revelation that will nonetheless change many lives.

Soon after the precipitous plunge in Apple's stock price last fall -- followed by the cacaphonous din from investors, analysts, and every commentator on the planet -- the CEO had decided to take a long solitary road trip to get away from it all. According to Jobs, he jumped into his Lexus SUV and headed for Santa Fe, but after driving all day found himself behind a Saturday evening traffic jam of lowriders in Española.

At that point exactly what transpired is unclear, but it appears that the CEO subjected the local vatos to an unfortunate gesture at precisely the wrong moment, a dispute already being in progress over who was to blame for a major dent in the right front fender of an otherwise impeccable metallic gold '63 Impala. It further appears that the impatient vegan went out of his way to verbally insult the eating habits of those gathered to offer counsel, whereupon the enraged crowd forgot all about the dented lowrider and turned upon the Lexus with all its fury. The last thing Jobs remembered before passing out was being pulled from the overturned and burning SUV, kicked in the head, and tossed into a car trunk. When he finally awoke shortly before dawn, he found himself alone and freezing in the ditch beside a deserted gravel road in a stunningly beautiful mountain valley.

The CEO was cold and had no idea where he was. A now alien but once-familiar taste teased his memory as it bubbled up from his bowels: BEEF! His tormentors, we both surmised, had force-fed the unconscious salad-eater several orders of tacos before tiring of their sport. Not without unconscious compassion, it should be noted, had they chosen to nourish their captive in this way, as will become clear. The location of his abandonment was also merciful -- and more significant than anyone could have known.

When the shivering Jobs pulled himself to his feet and looked around, he could scarcely believe his eyes. Snow-peaked mountains rose on all sides of the immense flat valley, and there were few signs of human habitation to be seen. Only when he squinted a second time, peering into the distance, did he see it, standing all by itself on a sagebrush-covered plain: the cabin! Yes, "The Cabin". . .Abandoned by an earlier pilgrim, it served not only as a life-saving shelter but proved to be a technological and spiritual resource of inestimable value. This was where the battered Jobs would spend the next 6 weeks alone, nursing his wounds and receiving the inner wisdom that led him to plan the startling changes I still can scarely believe.

I will not elaborate on all the details (you will hear them in San Francisco), but here is the gist of what took place:

He was starving and had no food, but found a rifle and ammo on the mantle and learned to hunt. (the forced ingestion of tacos had helped his body begin the process of adaptation that would once again allow him to eat meat, thus saving his life). There was no electricty, but the cabin's primitive solar array provided a trickle of current and he learned to do with less -- much less. Bereft of friends and family, he learned to listen and converse with the tiny voice within. And on a certain evening, something truly remarkable occurred that Jobs refused to discuss any further. I know it was pivotal, however, because soon afterwards the CEO claimed to have constructed a serviceable Internet appliance from scrounged bits of old radios and an ancient 45-rpm record player! In the years to come, it will surely be written that from this mysterious, solitary epiphany came the most far-reaching idea of all: the transformation of Apple's production facilities into the mother of all recycling operations, whereby future computers and Internet appliances would be assembled entirely from salvaged PC, Macintosh, and stereo components!

The immediate meaning of this impending transformation was clear, he told me. Motorola, IBM, and Microsoft were history. So for that matter were the profit motive, stock dividends, and his own heretofore insatiable urge to accumulate more and more luxury goods at the expense of society's unfortunates. Apple's operating system codes would be published on the Internet and given away for free, he exalted. "From this seed alone," he said, eyes aglow, "will grow a thousand orchards!" Personal and corporate gain would become irrelevant, as everyone on the planet would have access to free Net devices assembled at virtually no cost. Apple's resources would eventually be sold off, one by one, to pay for a system of free satellite-based wireless Internet service for the entire world, he said, looking tired now, but happy. He turned once more to the window, and we drove on for several miles in silence.

I could hardly keep the old Ford on the road as we approached the outskirts of Taos, where a full moon rose majestically over the sacred mountain. "You're serious, aren't you?" I stammered, but Jobs just smiled and looked content. I began to feel light-headed, almost delirious, as I slowly realized this was an idea whose time had come. Other CEOs, corporations, and individuals would follow suit, would have to, in fact, as the notion of free goods and universal access spread like wildfire throughout the world. The sentiment would expand and reach into every area of human existence. People would begin to work for the satisfaction derived from the activity itself and for love of humankind. Ultimately the species would be redeemed, the cosmic debt repaid, the planet saved. By the time I dropped him off at the Trailways bus station, I was sobbing with a joy that knew no bounds. Unable to speak, I thrust my wallet at him, indicating he should take it for the fare, but Jobs just smiled again and said, "No thanks! I'll be fine," as he calmly climbed out and disappeared into the night. . .

I turned off the big six and killed the lights, too shaken to drive, then rolled down the window to get some air. The cold dry fragrance of the high desert sage tickled my nostrils as I peered up at the moon, so bright it hurt my eyes. How would they react, I wondered? There was only one thing for sure:

It would be a keynote to remember!

John H. Farr also edits the news for Applelinks.com and invites your comments (especially compliments). The Farr Site Archives will take you to the past three years of columns. . . John also writes a monthly op-ed page column called "El Emigrante" for Horse Fly in Taos, NM and produces a strange beast called Zoozone News . (Over 70 pictures of beautiful, expensive New Mexico can be seen at the ZZN Photorama .)

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