IPHONE

I love my iPhone. Over the years I have walked around holding my mobile phone in my hand as if it were a second dick. I have always thought it looked cool ever since the days of watching Paul E. Dangerously walk around with his brick while managing various wrestling tag teams. It was always much cooler than the copy of the Wall Street Journal that Paul Ellering would carry around.

I got my iPhone in January 2009 as an act of retail therapy. For months various people recommending it to me had badgered me but as ever unsurprisingly I acted with resistance, dismissing the toy as the latest technological piece of crap for people with more money and ego than sense. I was wrong.

Unfortunately I had only had it barely six months before one morning rushing out of London I accidentally smashed it on the platform of Moorgate station. This was not the first time I had dropped it (I drop all my phones) but this was definitely the worst.

Even though I have it insured over the course of ownership I have filled the thing up with notes towards blogs, books and other stuff such as reviews. When I went into the O2 store where I got the phone from rather unhelpfully the geek behind the counter said when I would exchange the phone all would be lost. Unsurprisingly my notes are of more value to me (and my writing) than the clean screen and ability to watch videos on the train. So I have decided to see it out with my cracked screen “Punk Rock iPhone”.

In the proceeding months now nothing about my person more than my cracked iPhone has prompted people (and strangers) to make comment to me. Has this really become the most interesting thing about my being? Is this the modern world?