Several weeks earlier, the shaggy-haired adopted son of a car mechanic had sold his Volkswagen bus for $750. His friend had sold his HP 65 calculator for $500. As he eased back in his desk chair, he shuddered at the thought of putting his entire life’s savings on the line. He nervously twirled the pen in his hand, then gave it a few hard chomps between his front teeth. He had read the partnership agreement numerous times, but he couldn’t resist flipping through its pages one final time. He finished and then signed his name on the line at the bottom of the last page. The man who dreamed of the intersection of technology and art had just launched a computer company. His name was Steve Jobs. Anaheim, California July 1, 1976 “Hello, everyone, welcome aboard Disneyland’s World Famous Jungle Cruise.” The man in the khaki vest and floppy hat smiled constantly as he spoke. “My name is John and I’ll be your captain—unless we run into trouble.” The tourists on the boat laughed, just as John Lasseter knew they would.
