Apple is Cooked

Apple has long positioned itself as a beacon of innovation, inclusivity, and progress. For decades, it’s been a champion of privacy, diversity, and environmental responsibility. Yet, with one bone-headed decision, Tim Cook has managed to call all of that into question.

Recently Cook, the very face of Apple, made a $1 million personal donation to Cadet Bone Spurs presidential inauguration—a figure who stands in direct opposition to so many of the values Apple purports to uphold. While Cook might argue this was a personal gesture, his position as Apple’s CEO makes it impossible to separate his actions from the image of the company he leads.

The damage to Apple’s reputation is undeniable.

Apple has always been about more than its products. The company is a lifestyle and a philosophy. With progressive messaging on issues like LGBTQ+ rights, climate change, and immigration, Apple has attracted millions of loyal customers who see the company as a force for good. IQ45’s presidency was a four-year assault on those ideals: a term marked by divisive rhetoric, anti-immigration policies, trashing science and an alarming disregard for human rights.

By financially supporting Trump’s inauguration, Cook undermines the principles Apple has worked so hard to associate with its name. The message this sends is clear: The values Apple claims to hold dear are, at best, negotiable.

One of Cook’s most celebrated moments as CEO was when he publicly came out as gay, stating, “I’m proud to be gay, and I consider being gay among the greatest gifts God has given me.” For members of the LGBTQ+ community, Cook became a symbol of progress in corporate America. How can the same Tim Cook justify donating to the inauguration of a president whose administration actively sought to roll back protections for LGBTQ+ individuals?

Perhaps Tim has forgotten Trump’s transgender military ban, his appointments of anti-LGBTQ+ judges, and his administration’s blatant attacks on equality under the guise of religious freedom. Cook’s donation wasn’t just a betrayal of Apple’s values; it was a betrayal of his own.

Apple products are used by millions of people across continents, cultures, and belief systems. Many of those customers—immigrants, Muslims, women, people of color, and members of the LGBTQ+ community—were directly harmed by the Trump administration’s policies. What must they think, knowing the man leading Apple thought it was appropriate to write a million-dollar check to celebrate Trump’s rise to power?

If Apple wants to salvage its reputation, it can’t remain silent. The company needs to publicly address Cook’s actions, and reaffirm its commitment to the values it claims to stand for. Anything less will signal to its customers that those values were nothing more than marketing spin.

As for Cook, he owes customers, shareholders and the world at large an explanation. They deserve to know why he thought it was acceptable to align himself with arguably the most divisive leader in modern history.

Cook’s $1 million donation is a betrayal. A betrayal of Apple. A betrayal of its customers. And most of all, a betrayal of the very ideals Cook himself once claimed to champion.

It’s a stain on his legacy—and Apple’s—that he won’t be able to hit delete on anytime soon.

Forehead expansion project

I thought about calling this post "Hair today, gone tomorrow." But I decided not to. You're welcome. Okay, even though I've tipped my hand as to where this is going, and it's definitely going, let's go.

It’s always sad when it happens, but whether I like it or not, there’s a reckoning coming. A once-trusty companion, a lifelong friend, something I relied on and was always there for me has taken the first step towards the long goodbye.

We’ve been through so much together. The great bowl cut fiasco of ‘95. The gel overdose incident of ‘05. Even a brief flirtation with a color not found in nature.

It’s sad but true. My hair, like my father’s hair before me, has begun a slow retreat.

It started innocently enough. Just a slight thinning in the front (at least something on me is getting thinner). “Nothing to worry about,” I thought. “It’s just my forehead... stretching.”

But as the years roll on, it’s becoming clear to me my hair is saying, “Shecky, get the limo—we’re outta here!”

Some men might panic at this development, and turn to desperate measures to turn back time: toupees. Miracle creams. Snake-oil cures. Dyes. Plugs. Transplants. Baseball caps. Combovers. The Hair Club for Men. Thanks, but no thanks.

I’ve decided to go the dignified route (I know, so uncharacteristic) and embrace my very slowly receding hairline with open arms. After all, why fight a battle I’m destined to lose?

In the meantime, I’m trying to stay focused on the positives. My time at the barber shop—don’t really need a salon at this point—will go a lot faster. Showers are definitely quicker. Shampoo expenses are down. I’m sleeker, more aerodynamic and move through the world just a little easier.

And the silver lining—literally, fortunately—is the pace of the retreat seems to be happening exceptionally slowly. I’m not even close to the Lester Holt/Jude Law/Nic Cage/Sting loss leaders yet. In fact if I hadn’t brought it up, you might not have even noticed. So, time is on my side. Even if my hair isn’t.

To anyone else facing the issue, my advice is own it. Laugh about it. And if you’re entrepreneurial like me, monetize it. My once-full head of hair might just be my next big business venture.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to measure my forehead for ad dimensions. Super Bowl Sunday is just around the corner, and I’ve got prime real estate to sell.