Fred Vogelstein (Om’s partner at Crazy Stupid Tech):
We met a week later at his outdoor office — a bench in SF’s South
Park. He told me that he was going emeritus at True Ventures, the
VC firm, and that he was going to spend more of his time writing.
It was awesome to see him. Sitting on a bench with Om could be
quasi religious. He talked so softly and deliberately that it
forced you to slow down, lean in and forget about everything else.
What became clear was that we actually saw the world the same
way. We didn’t agree what Wired should be doing about it. But
we did agree on this: While everyone was fixated on big tech,
an explosion in tech innovation not seen in a generation was
taking place. We both agreed that not enough people were
writing about it.
“Maybe we should do something together then,” I said.
Joanna Stern:
So saddened to hear about @om. His writing was one of the
reasons I went into tech journalism. Right out of college, I was
working at a PR agency and started reading his site. It inspired
me to start blogging.
Years later, he tried to recruit me. Even after I went elsewhere,
he’d send me notes telling me how proud he was of my work. He’d
often review my reviews, so here’s mine of him: Generous with his
time. Honest with his feedback. Endlessly encouraging to those
coming up behind him.
Casey Newton:
Very sad to hear about the passing of @om. He shared two lasting
lessons with me: the first when I was a cub tech reporter at the
SF Chronicle; he interviewed me for a job but told me he didn’t
think I could hack it at GigaOm because newspaper writers were too
slow. It taught me that I needed to get out of print media ASAP.
The second was many years later, when I was having a drink with
him and some other reporters. We asked him for advice. “Never name
a blog after yourself,” he said. RIP
Jim Nielsen:
One day on Twitter I got a DM from someone with the handle @om.
“I don’t know who this is,” I thought, “but damn that is a great
handle!”
Then I peaked at the follower count: over 1 million!
“WTF? Who is this???” I thought.
I’d never — then or since — been contacted by someone with such
a high profile online.
How was I even on this person’s radar?
Om seemingly read everything.
MG Siegler:
Looking at my emails and social media messages
from back then is just a treasure trove. Om was always quick with
a compliment about something I had written but also with a
criticism at times. He clearly just read endlessly and couldn’t
help but share his opinions, even if privately. In person too he
was amazingly candid and honest. He would complain how annoyed he
was if you beat him to some story — but complain even louder if
he felt like he actually beat you but wasn’t getting enough
credit. He was clearly competitive too. And he was correct in his
assessments, because again, he was honest. [...]
To me, Om was and will always be such a singular individual. There
will never be anyone quite like him. He’s the only person I know
who could be both humorously downtrodden and insanely optimistic
at the exact same time. Again, he just seemed to wear his emotions
on his sleeve.
Jason Hiner, in a post on LinkedIn:
This is the opening anecdote from “Chapter Six: The Blogger” from
my 2016 book, Follow the Geeks, co-authored with Lyndsey Gilpin.
Om once told me that “For three years, it was every day a
rejection” as he tried to break into tech journalism. This was how
he finally broke through.
David Churbuck checked his voicemail. There was a message from
someone looking for a job.
Because of the guy’s thick Indian accent, David could barely make
out what he was saying, except that he worked for a wire service
down on Wall Street and was a big Forbes fan. The guy heard that
Forbes was going to be one of the first media companies to launch
its magazine on the web and he wanted to come help.
David ignored the message. He had a small team and hardly
any budget.
Then he got a fax. It was from this guy, explaining why he was a
perfect fit to join the team.
The next day, the guy left another message. If David would just
give him a call, it would be great to talk with him. He wouldn’t
regret it.
Ignore.
The following day, he left another. Whatever time limit there was
for voicemails, this guy always used up every minute.
Still, David ignored it.
And then the guy started getting creative.
[...]
One of the journalists, Michael Noer, said half jokingly, “Just
call the guy in!” So, partly out of admiration, and partly out of
pure morbid curiosity, David called him back.
One interview. Fifteen minutes. That was all it took for David to
hire Om Malik.
“They do not sell themselves”, Om told me in a separate story from that same time in his life.
Hiner made the entire chapter available to read as a handsome PDF. It’s so good, and so utterly Om. It’s a crackerjack good read about the very early “WWW” days of the web. A bit:
Om is charming and disarming, forceful and accommodating. He has
an easy smile, a quiet, melodic voice, and a handsome face. Once
he opens his mouth, it’s obvious how much he reads and how thirsty
he is to learn. It’s rare to meet someone who is ready to debate
you on almost any topic, but who’s also genuinely curious about
your life and your opinion. It all makes the burly journalist one
of the most huggable people on Earth. That’s what David was up
against when he met Om. He didn’t stand a chance.
“It was destiny,” said David, with a self-deprecating laugh. “It
was total destiny.”
Om’s close friend, photographer Christopher Michel, published “Om the Great”, an enormous gallery of portraits of him. Here’s just one of hundreds:
Lastly, here’s a story from Andrew Sasaki, which he sent me by email, and I’m reproducing with his permission. It’s the perfect Om story:
I met Om briefly at a tech event in NYC around 2008 or so. He was
talking with a friend of mine, and when I walked up he introduced
himself: “Hi, I’m Om.”
“‘Om’ like ‘Om Malik’?” I asked.
This amused him greatly.
“Yes, exactly like Om Malik”, he said.
A couple of years later the iPad had just launched, and I saw my
friend again at another industry event. I asked him a question
related to the unprecedented development effort we were already
seeing around the new platform that didn’t yet have a single
compelling use case.
“You know who I bet would know about that? Om Malik”, he said, and
gave me Om’s email address.
I hesitated to bother Om, but eventually reached out with my
question. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met a couple of
years ago, and…” blah blah blah.
Naturally, there was no answer. Why would there be? He doesn’t
know me from Adam, and he’s Om Fucking Malik.
Except there was an answer about 4 days later. Om started off by
apologizing for the delay in responding, but he had taken the time
to research his answer before writing to me. And of course, his
answer was thoughtful, insightful, and absolutely correct. I was
gobsmacked at the generosity he had shown replying to someone he
didn’t even know. He gave no indication that he even remembered me
until his signature line:
“Exactly Like Om Malik”
Login
