To celebrate the re-opening of school, even for those of us who no longer have to attend, let’s take a moment and find out how dumb we really are with this IQ test! (I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.)

It’s been said that Apple attracts some oddballs now and then. Hey, I’m out here, aren’t I? But every once in awhile someone really takes that "Think different" slogan to a whole new level, and I get to witness it because I work right there in the thick of it. What happened last week was no exception.

As I turned onto Mariani Avenue I saw a giant turtle on the sidewalk, waving at incoming Apple employees. I waved back. “I like this guy already,” I thought. But I didn’t quite catch what his sign said. Something about 10% market share, and beating Dell. That was enough to make me go out to shake his hand. Two of my coworker friends decided to come with.

I can’t trace my affinity to strange people back to one singular source. Sesame Street and the Muppets? Hanging out with the "theatre crowd"? Being a Lewis? Yeah, probably being a Lewis. I’ve just always loved people who were different, and not afraid to be different. The thing that shocked me was that as I came within 30 meters of the Giant Turtle, my two friends simultaneously stopped walking and let me continue on without them, without saying a word. I wondered if I hadn’t noticed some chalk line labeled "BLAST RADIUS" scribbled on the pavement, and continued on.

It turned out the Turtle’s name was Henry, and he was a president of something. He was pretty nice. I shook his hand, as promised, and took a flier from him which repeated the information on his website. The idea of what he does is still slightly fuzzy in my mind, even with the aid of the information on his website. He said that contacting Apple the normal way wasn’t too effective, so he hoped that this might work better. I told him I had his back on the 10% thing and wished him luck. After looking at the source code on that website, I should have told him to stop using MS Word to make web pages (blllleeccch!!!), but I didn’t. Please pardon that dereliction of duty.

The guy in the security van pulled up just outside the blast radius and asked me for the flier. Apparently I had made first contact. I handed it over on the condition that I could go back and get a second one to keep. That seemed okay with him, so I did. Henry even gave me an extra for a friend.

So the moral of the story is… actually, I’m going to let you guys fill that one in. Post your Moral of the Story in the Peanut Gallery. Let’s see what we can all learn from the turtle who became President. Of Something.

UPDATE: Jack Miller over at As the Apple Turns has also decided to write about this little story. Yeah, he’s the cicada guy from a few days ago.

I thought I would give you a little appetizer until I’m actually able to come on the scene and throw the smack down in my traditional-yet-new-wave manner. Written by one of my favorite online authors: Freaky thing in the park. It’s funny and true!

I think I have ADD.

In fact, I think I’ve had it all along. For those of you who know me, just stop and think about it for a second. Forget all the political issues surrounding the disorder and just think about what you know about me. And think about what you know of ADD. Now put the two together. Yeah.

I seriously can’t pay attention to anything I do. Every once in awhile I’ll have some kind of break-through for an hour or so when I’m doing something amazingly interesting to me, but for the most part my brain is constantly distracting me, saying things like, “Hey, don’t forget about…” and, “Go check out that website so-and-so told you about,” and, “Did you respond to that email?” and a whole bunch of other things. Simultaneously. Without ceasing.

I’m not saying this in an “Oh, please pity me!” sort of way. I think if I do actually have ADD I’ve gotten along without any kind of medication pretty well, and become a productive member of society, etc. But honestly, do you know anyone who is more constantly distracted than I am? If you do, they probably have ADD. 🙂

You might ask me, “Josh, what’s the point? You’ve grown up with it (or without it if you don’t actually have it) and now you’re a productive member of society, so who cares?” I can only respond by saying, “That’s a good point, but we have to keep in mind that in order to… Hmmm… I’m hungry.”

As you may have heard already, Steph and I went up to San Francisco three days ago to see the Marc Chagall exhibit and spend some time with a couple friends. I have to admit, Chagall’s work is wonderfully emotive, and quite powerful in person. His colors are (usually) wonderfully vibrant, and he has an interesting technique I call the "mental collage" in which he juxtaposes images that don’t seem to be in the same "scene," but are nonetheless part of the same painting. It’s very interesting.

I have to get one thing off my chest, though. You may be surprised by the following statements, considering I’m married to an artist and art lover. They may come across as uncultured, and they may be exactly that. But it’s worth saying.

I saw more floating, rubbery people, and chickens, and goat-cows with fiddles, and bouquets of flowers that day (all represented in various mediums) than I ever thought possible. After thirty years of painting, how could Chagall say, “For my 458th painting I think I’ll paint a chicken, with a woman on it, floating through the sky, with a boquet of flowers obscuring the skyline of Vitebsk! Oh! And a goat with a fiddle!” There. I just made up a new Chagall painting, assuming it hasn’t been done yet. Wait, I think it has.

Honestly though, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s famous. He’s talented. That much is clear. But he also did the one thing that separates famous artists from obscure ones. He picked an easily "trademarkish" subject (or picked from a semi-static list of subjects) and repeated it over and over and over again. The other thing you can do to become a famous artist is pick a style and then randomize subjects, but he seemed to like the first route better, so there you have it. All I know is that I’ll never, in my entire life, be able to make even one painting that is as good as any of his were, so I probably shouldn’t be teasing him. Many of Steph’s students can make better artwork than I can, so I think I’d better shut my trap.