I have to admit that I do want an iphone. I like the way it looks. I like the way it feels and most important, I can see the buttons, not that an iphone even has buttons. But at $600.00 I can wait. Besides I just renewed my old verizon contract, so I’m out of the phone market for a couple of years. By then, Apple should have worked out all the bugs in the iphone.
I already have an ipod and although I love it to death, it has bugs...millions of them. I wish I had waited to buy it, but I couldn’t resist the thought of having my entire music collection in my pocket.
Iphones make me realize that I am getting old because despite my desire to own one, I can’t believe that a telephone can be a status symbol. I’ve had my younger friends, meaning those young enough to be my grandkids, actually check out my phone to see what I choose to carry. From these conversations I have learned that the more your phone can do, or the more it costs, then the higher your status.
I’m sorry, but a phone is still a phone to me. It replaces the need to have to find a pay phone like the ones that used to populate street corners. My contract offers free phones in exchange for company loyalty. So every couple of years, I choose the most expensive phone that I can get for free. I also need to be able to read the buttons since my eyes no longer work as well as they used to. I carry this sleek black number that is web ready, bluetooth ready, mp3 equipped, and has a camera and also shoots video. Most importantly, it was free.
I’ve played with all the features, but basically, after I’m done playing, it’s still just a phone, a convenience that keeps me from having to search for one on the corner in order to reach out and touch when I need to.
Knowing me, I will eventually own an iphone. But it won’t be for a couple of years and the phone itself will probably be into it’s third or fourth generation. By then the kinks will be gone, and it won’t cost so much. And I will have a better understanding of phone as status symbol, I guess...maybe...maybe not..
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