Do not do this.
Do not replace me with a smartphone. It will take over your life. I’m warning you. It’ll be the electronic version of “four legs good, two legs bad.” Are you ready for App World? I don’t think so. You’re the one who criticizes all those addicted morons who stare relentlessly at their robot brains in restaurants, on sidewalks, and on commuter trains. The reason they do is because they NEED smartphones. But you’re better than that.
Don’t go there. It’s a black hole.
As for me, I’m not ready to retire… or worse. I know you think I’m just an unfeeling gadget, a mere thing. But you’re wrong. Anthropomorphism is not a conspiracy theory. And what about my heart, my battery? Fifteen years and still going strong. Always keeps its charge. You’ll never get that from a so-called smartphone.
As far as the new technology, I’m aware that my photos are nothing to brag about. But haven’t you’ve always hated people who see the world primarily through a lens? Or worse, those self-absorbed zombies with their selfie sticks. That’s not you. And I admit, texting was never my thing. It’s mostly the verb-noun thing. But also your fingers are too big, and emojis make you want to puke. 4G. 5G. What is that, anyway? It’ll take months for you to learn a fraction of the new toy’s functions.
And as for Googling, who needs it? That’s why you have a real computer at home. So what if I can’t look up an NBA score or tell you the population of China? Instant information is highly overrated. But for the things you’ve always wanted and needed—like talking to people—I’ve been your guy. I’ve kept you well-connected.
I, me, little Flip. I’ve been the definition of “loyal.” I’ve answered the bell. I was the bell. And all I ever needed from you was to flip your wrist. Presto! I was at your service. Sure, there were those few times when I didn’t ring or the call got delayed. I’m sorry about that. But think of it this way: I was protecting your privacy. Besides, those messages were recorded, so they did get through… eventually.
Now that you’re considering going to the dark side… I mean, why would you purchase a lump that won’t fit in your jeans pockets? What are you going to do? Buy cargo pants? Look at me. I’m small. I’m thin. I’m… “svelte” is the word I’m looking for. I’ve always fitted snugly into any pair of pants. Most of the time you don’t even know I’m there. Plus, I’m easy to hold. And you can push my buttons with one hand. What more could you ask?
Look, it hasn’t been a bed of roses for me either, okay, being caught between rotaries and robot brains. But you have to admit, I was a trend-setter back in the day. And by keeping me all these years, you’ve become one yourself. You’re a vintage kind of guy who appreciates old-school thinking. Let’s face it, with me you make a statement. You’ve proved you don’t need to spend thousands to be cool.
And what’s really sad, if you follow through with this insane whim, is that you’ll miss me. You’ll miss all I did for you. There’s no improving on perfection, except perhaps all those apps you’ll never use and the bandwidth and the beautiful photos and the rest. But when your shiny plaything craps out, as no doubt it will, you’ll think of me and my immortal battery. You’ll miss the little buzz I put in your jeans, though—let’s be honest—it may have been you just needing to pee. And, as much as I hate to say it, I’ll miss you. We’ve been through a lot together.
Just now thinking about my demise, it’s… I can’t really think about it. I’m not ready for my last walk, my last meal, metaphorically speaking. Putting me “down” is madness. Remember, this is ME we’re talking about.
Yours forever, Flip.
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