iLegend -- The Final Cut

I am going to die.

Someday.

That’s not really breaking news.

You are going to die someday too.

That’s reality.

None of us know how long we have on this planet.

But most of us hope we leave this place a little better off.

Than it was when we got here.

I’m not sure what my legacy will be.

But I do know the three kids I helped bring into this world are special.

And that’s about all I could hope for.

Setting the bar too high usually ends in disappointment.

I’d love to sit here and say that I am going to invent something special someday.

Something that will change the world.

But the truth is.

That’s not going to happen.

Unless you consider putting peanut butter on your hamburger as changing the world.

Actually I didn’t invent that.

But that’s the type of thing that I’m capable of doing.

Hey, you gotta know who you are.

When we look back at history, it’s very easy to think...

“I coulda done that.”

Like starting a self-serve frozen yogurt shop.

That charges seven dollars.

For something that costs 70 cents.

I coulda done that.

Attaching a little spoon to the bottom of a straw.

To make the Slurpee even more refreshing.

Damn.

I coulda done that.

How about mixing vitamins into tap water.

And calling it VITAMIN WATER.

And then selling $350 million worth of this vitamin water.

In one year.

I coulda done that.

Those are things I coulda done.

But didn’t.

There are also plenty of things I couldn’t have done too.

Enter Steve Jobs.

At the unripened age of 21, Steve Jobs helped start a company that forever changed the world.

Well it didn’t change the world right away.

In fact, it took him getting fired from the company he created before he could come back to save it.

But if it wasn’t for Steve Jobs, I wouldn’t be sitting where I am right now.

The toilet.

Ok, TMI.

But the point is -- that’s where I’m writing this blog.

Thanks to Steve Jobs I can carry a computer around in the palm of my hand.

Anywhere I want.

Anytime I want.

Thanks to Steve Jobs this world will never be the same.

Again.

For me it all started with the iPod.

Probably 5 or 6 years ago.

I remember thinking, “let me get this straight.”

“I can put ALL of my CDs on a device that fits in my pocket.”

At last check, the count was up to like 9,000 songs.

From there I made the jump to the iPod touch.

That gives me my music.

And the internet.

Then it was the iPhone.

My music.

The internet.

AND a phone.

Well it was supposed to be a phone.

Unfortunately Steve Jobs didn’t invent AT&T.

Then the iMac.

And the iPad.

And the iToothbrush.

And the iToaster Oven.

iT doesn’t stop.

Steve Jobs and his minions have done more for technology than any group this side of Thomas Edison.

For example, Steve Jobs single-handedly destroyed my business of television production.

Well TV production as we knew it.

Ok, destroyed may be a little strong.

Let's just say, they iChanged the world of how to make television.

Back in the day, the path to a TV career was pretty simple.

• Go to school
• Get an internship
• Get a low paying job
• Work countless hours in that low paying job
• Stay in that same job

Till death do us part.

Steve Jobs changed all that too.

Well Apple did.

Thanks to products like the Final Cut editing system.

And iMovie.

A similar product with a cool “i” in the title.

Anyone can be a TV producer.

Or a film director.

And I mean anyone.

For a couple hundred bucks you can not only buy Final Cut at the Apple store.

But they will teach you how to use it.

With a smile.

No need for that college education.

Internship?

Puh-lease.

Did you see the movie Napolean Dynamite?

That was edited in the producer’s apartment.

Using a Mac computer.

And Final Cut Pro.

Eat Pray Love.

Final Cut.

Glee.

Final Cut.

Nip/Tuck.

Final Cut.

My daughter’s year-end soccer video.

Final Cut.

The same Final Cut.

A website I found today called, fcproducer.com summed it up:

Steve Jobs changed the marketplace forever.  Big creative edit suites filled with broadcasting gear began downsizing and eventually going out of business because how affordable owning a editing suite became. Small businesses began purchasing equipment and hiring staff to run it. 

Final Cut Pro came out and allowed all us little people the power to begin storytelling. I graduated from film school and couldn’t afford to purchase any equipment. The cheapest professional camcorders at that time were $50,000. Then Canon teamed with Apple to give us the power to tell stories. That was when I finished my first documentary. It was self-produced and funded while I worked delivering pizzas.

RIP Mr. Jobs.

Thank you for changing the world.

Not So Silent Night

Every so often I run across a new creation and I slap my head like its a V8 commercial.

WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT???????

That happens EVERY time I go by a fantasy sports website.

Or listen to the words from a Katy Perry song.

Or drive by a Starbucks.

Damn Starbucks.

Well, it’s happened again.

And again.

Every Tuesday night.

It’s called Glee.

Just imagine if Grease had a baby with American Idol.

That’s Glee.

If you haven’t seen it, shame on you.

It has everything you would ever want in a show.

At least everything I would ever want in a show.

It is the greatest show of all-time.

At least the greatest show of this time.

This week.

Sure some of the characters are a little cliche.

A little predictable.

A little page 19 of the stereotype handbook.

But the creators of Glee have all the food groups covered.

Gay kid.  Jock.  Wheelchair.  Black girl.  Hot girl.

I clearly haven’t watched the show closely enough, but I imagine there is a Jew or two in there as well.

Actually, I haven’t watched the show much at all.

I’m guessing it is in the 2nd or 3rd season at this point and I’ve only seen two or three episodes.

But my oldest daughter is addicted.

As is my friend Rick.

And since Rick is old enough to be my daughter’s father, I figured it was good enough for me.

So now we watch it every week.

And as my family sits there singing the songs, I sit there thinking how rich we would be if I would’ve come up with the idea for this damn show.

Doh.

Singing is big in my family.

I do it.

My wife tries to do it.

My son would like to do it.

My oldest daughter refuses to do it.

And my youngest daughter loves doing it.

The Osmonds have nothing on us.

My wife and I have helped the kids find something they are passionate about.

And then we encourage them to do it SO much they are destined to hate it.

Ok, just kidding.   I think.

My oldest daughter is the dancer.   

My son is the baseball player.

And now child #3 is a singer.

Officially.

She loves soccer and softball... and reading, but she’s definitely the entertainer in the family.

So we signed her up for the local choir.

Not a church choir or school choir, this is the real deal.

Practice twice a week.   Payment once a month.

This singing school actually teaches the kids how to read music AND how to sing.

A few days ago this choir held its 21st Annual Winter Shindig.

In all there were 204 kids on the stage and more than a thousand people in the stands.

They broke the kids up into several age-specific groups and each group performed several songs.

I’m not sure if it was the father in me or the singer in me, but I loved every second of it.

When I was her age I sang in the Synagogue Choir.

That was a big deal.

Then.

Every Jewish New Year they would give me the solo.

About midway through the endless service, I would belt out a few words in Hebrew that I had no idea what they meant.

Then, as a form of appreciation, the old men in the audience would pinch my pudgy cheeks and squeeze my right hand until the blood stopped.

I would’ve preferred a little coin.

But hey, they loved me, they really loved me.

My daughter’s performance was a lot more official than anything I was ever part of.

There was a maestro.

And a pianist.

And a fluterist.

And for one song they had a glockenspielski.

Good thing this wasn’t a spelling bee.

The concert must’ve run close to two hours as the kids performed 22 songs.

My wife secured seats in the fifth or sixth row so that my daughter could be distracted by us.

When she came on stage she scratched her nose to say hello.

Waiving might’ve got her kicked out of the choir.

Then she stood front and center, singing three songs and spreading Christmas cheer for more than ten minutes.

And this was no generic Christmas cheer either.

There was no “Grandma got run over by a reindeer” or “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus”.

This was the real stuff.

“Snow is falling still”.

And “Sleep, my child”.

And “A Winter Carol”.

Three songs I had never heard of.

And they had never sounded so beautiful.

So good in fact, I almost pinched my daughter’s cheeks.

There's always next year.