Dinner in New York

The summer of 1984 was very busy, and I was on the road continually. With four small children at home, including infant twins, there were often not enough arms to literally carry all the burdens.

Every Monday morning Steve held his weekly staff meeting with the four senior leaders of the Mac group: Bob Belleville (engineering); Debi Coleman (former finance, but now manufacturing), Susan Barnes (finance) and me. 

At one such meeting, and for no particular reason, I blurted out, “These meetings are always the same. This week’s agenda looks just like last week’s agenda. We need a change!”

Steve rightfully asked, “So what do you want to do?”

I had no idea at all. I was just being a smart-aleck. But my abrupt blurtation required a response. And this is what I impulsively said, “We should hold next week's meeting in New York.”

Steve responded, “That’s a terrific idea! I agree! We’re doing it!”

It’s interesting how our minds can have a full, wide-ranging, complete conversation within oneself in the manner of nano seconds. And so it was at this very moment for me. “Oh my gosh. I’m going to go home tonight and tell Joyce that our 2-hour staff meeting next week is being held in New York City. And, because I’m already traveling so much, she’ll ask, ‘Whose bright idea was that?’ And I don’t want to go down that particular path.”

So, without missing a beat (because we’re talking nano seconds), I replied in a cheery voice to Steve and the group, “Sounds great Steve! And what would you think of letting us bring our spouses or significant others with us?”

And, because he was caught in the moment, he immediately replied, “Great idea!” 

Few in the group were married, or had significant others. But that didn't matter. I'd now be able to go home as say, "Guess what honey? You're going on an expense paid trip to New York next week!"

And thus begins the story of the dinner in New York.

Steve’s assistants flew into action because we would need airline tickets, a nice hotel, limo service, dinner reservations, and tickets to a Broadway play, a meeting at the NYC Apple sales office and a staff meeting.

We stayed at the legendary Carlyle Hotel, located in the heart of the Upper East Side. We had front row seats for the Broadway play Cats. And we went to the Apple Sales office where Steve yelled at the small staff for 15-20 minutes. I don’t recall anything about our inconsequential staff meeting – perhaps because they were always the same.

And then we had a 9PM dinner at a very nice restaurant. Prior to this we had a bit of downtime in which Joyce and I did some window-shopping.

My wife has always had an excellent eye for design and beauty. In one particular shop an exquisite porcelain figurine caught her eye. It was made by Bing & Grøndahl, a Danish manufacturer founded in 1853 by the sculptor Frederik Vilhelm Grøndahl and merchant brothers Meyer Hermann Bing and Jacob Herman Bing. It was meant for her, but it was way too expensive for our family budget. She didn’t even mention to me.

Towards the end of our dinner, Steve said something like, “I wonder how many people in this restaurant have ever heard of the Mac?” It had been about 6 months since the public launch, but the crowd in this restaurant was generally older and definitely not hip.

Someone in our group suggested that we each throw some dollars into the pot as a way of encouraging one of us to stand up and ask, “Have any of you ever heard of a Mac?”

I was stunned to see my young beautiful wife leap at the opportunity. Now, some of you reading this will instantly jump to the conclusion that, after a few glasses of wine, there’s no way of predicting what anyone will do. But Joyce and I are devout Mormons. She was stone cold sober!

By tapping on the side of our drinking glasses we somehow got the attention of those in the restaurant. And then Joyce shouted out, “Have any of you ever heard of a Mac?” It was as if the words were never said. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. A temporary vacuum filled the room. And as quickly as the customers had looked up, they looked back down.

Well, that didn’t go as planned. 

But Joyce collected the pool of money, we ate our desserts and soon made our way back to the elegant Carlyle.

In our hotel room, things weren’t sitting well with Joyce. She now had enough money to purchased the desired porcelain figurine. But an important lesson was being taught to her by the heavens. A lesson that would last a lifetime. If she moved forward with her plan, she would be purchasing the figurine with ill got gains. My wife has an exceptionally strong moral compass.

She knew that she could not live with this little figurine, sitting on a shelf in our home for the next 40-50 years, silently reminding her on a daily basis of the “real story”. She could not live with the figurine…nor herself.

So she took the money, quietly left our room, walked up and down the hotel hallway and slipped each person’s share of the money under their hotel doors. Nothing more was ever said of it.

Joyce left New York without the figurine, but with her integrity intact. I’m proud of her!