I worry that this column will unleash a new flood of denims, cotton T-shirts, coffee mugs and wine glasses. The truth is that I am a walking advertisement for the American semiconductor industry. When I'm not wearing the one suit I own to trade shows or plant visits, you'll find me swathed in somebody's logo.
If Analog Devices or Texas Instruments comes to a trade show with splashy new shirts, I have to have one. Considering these guys are such vicious competitors in the areas I track-analog, mixed-signal and DSP-I'm hard-pressed some days to decide which blue denim shirt to wear with my dungarees, even in the privacy of my own home. But, yes, I'll flatter Analog Devices by wearing one of their shirts to a meeting with their management, and happily do the same with TI. Only, I pray my eyesight doesn't fail me when it comes to picking the right shirt for a meeting.
I have a gorgeous black polo shirt that says Cirrus Logic and Crystal Semiconductor, and a beige one that says Infineon Carmel. I have a comfy green denim work shirt that says Fairchild Semiconductor. I have a baseball cap that says National Semiconductor and another that says Harris Prism. I have an embroidered long-sleeve polo shirt that says "Planet Analog," a memento of the 1998 Analog and Mixed-Signal Applications Conference. I'll exercise-really work up a sweat-in T-shirts that say American Microsystems, Cadence, Agilent Technologies and my latest huggy, a soft cotton one that says www.bops.com. (Perhaps you've seen me at the South Central Y; you know, the one on Quito Road? I'm the guy with great big semiconductor die-a million-gate ASIC-on his T-shirt.)
I have no problem promoting these companies in aerobics classes: This is the only industry on the face of the planet in which the functionality and quality of what we produce goes up with each iteration, while the price goes down. I absolutely love it. Only, if I've ever had thoughts about leaving the industry to, say, open a restaurant or write a novel or go sailing in the Caribbean, I'm always brought back to reality by those closest to me who say, "You can't quit the industry, Steve. What will you do for a wardrobe?"
To all of you, have a very happy holiday season, a safe and productive Y2K, and watch us grow into the next century!