Good Morning Monday

FaceTime with two Playboy bunnies named Dawn McCall and Gail Williams. Our two gal pals got me but good when they came on the screen to wish all of us Happy Easter/Happy Passover. What a surprise!!!!!


Earl G. Graves Sr., a Voice for Black Entrepreneurs, Dies at 85.

His magazine empire was always loyal and supportive of the work HWH PR did on behalf of its clients. Those were the days of mutual respect and important friendships. RIP. 


Question:

If you own the noise cancellation version of Apple’s Air Pods, have you experienced what is written about in Medium?

Click the link below to find out what I am talking about.

We need to talk about AirPods Pro by Joseph Curran


How do you want to re-enter the world?

I think about it everyday. Do I want to go back to what I used to do for work and play?

Prepare for the Ultimate Gaslighting* by Julio Vincent Gambuto

https://link.medium.com/pGbTlcDDC5



Facebook continued

The following was slightly edited to keep your attention.




Mark Elliott Zuckerberg had a typical middle class upbringing in Dobbs Ferry, New York, twenty-five miles north of New York City. He was born to Karen and Ed Zuckerberg in 1984.


In the words of the author, Steve Levy,  “The day was May 14, almost four months after the launch of the Apple Macintosh. Not many people had personal computers then.


“Ed Zuckerberg had both a computer and a modem. He had a lifelong affinity for technology in general and gadgetry in particular. When he was himself a child, his favorite subject was math.


Considering this, one might justifiably wonder whether Mark Zuckerberg’s later ascension to the status of global tech idol might be a case of the son living out the father’s thwarted ambitions. Ed never said as much, but he did not object when a New York magazine reporter writing about the family in 2012 floated the theory.


“Growing up Jewish in New York City,” Ed said, “if you had half a brain, your parents wanted you to be a doctor or a dentist . . . But back then, there really weren’t a lot of jobs in computer programming . . . That was not the ‘appropriate use of my time,’ my parents would have said. It wasn’t for the smart boys.” If not for the pressure it would have been different. “I would have done something in math, left to my own devices,” he says now. “Absolutely. I loved math.”


Both Karen and Ed had grown up in working-class neighborhoods in the outer boroughs of NYC. Their own parents were first-generation Americans. In 1977, while studying dentistry at NYU, Ed had gone on a blind date with a Brooklyn College coed, Karen Kempner, who hailed from Queens. He was twenty-four, she nineteen. Ed and Karen married in 1979.


Both had grandparents who emigrated from eastern Europe, and both were diligently studying to accomplish what was the career gold standard in each of their families: becoming a professional like a doctor or lawyer. Especially a doctor. (Ed’s father was a mailman; Karen’s father a precinct captain in “The 79,” in Brooklyn’s tough Bed-Stuy neighborhood. Her mother taught school.)


“Ed moved his dental practice to the ground floor of their home, with the Zuckerberg clan basically living above the shop. Karen was a psychiatrist who delayed a clinical career to raise Mark and his three sisters while helping her husband run the dental practice. (Mark was the second oldest, born two years after Randi; Donna and Arielle would follow).  


From an early age, Mark had a mind attuned to logic, especially when the answer to one of his requests was no. “If you were going to say no to him, you had better be prepared with a strong argument backed by facts, experiences, logic, reasons,” Ed Zuckerberg once told a reporter. Mark, he said, was “strong-willed and relentless,” a description that many coworkers and rivals would certainly endorse.


“As a tyke, Mark played with Ed’s old Atari, which was a great game machine. In sixth grade, he got his own computer. “It was a Quantex 486DX,” he recalled in a 2009 interview with me, and was surprised when I didn’t recognize the brand name of that IBM PC clone. “I don’t think it exists anymore,” he explained, taking me off the hook. “But my family didn’t have a lot of money, so I was lucky just to get a computer.”

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