The Tyranny of Apple Memories
In 1972, while rushing what was to become my college fraternity (a.k.a. a place to live for the next two years in a college town short on student housing), I got picked up by a fraternity brother who drove a Chevy Impala that looked, even by standards of the day, like a boat on wheels. This guy, named Steven Kantrowitz, was, like most people at Cornell, a smart guy, but also brash and unorthodox to…

