Going to the Dark Side

Ok, after years of fighting it, I relented. I finally walked into the 21st Century, and got myself the iPhone 4 (no, not the 4S). Grudgingly so. Call me a creature of habit, but I don't like change. For that reason, I keep going back to the same restaurants. Keep ordering the same damn dish on the menu. For the longest time I stuck with the same cable TV companies even though they were ripping me off, just to 'keep things the same'. Refused to try out Macs because I was so used to PCs despite all their problems. And so, for the longest time, I stayed away from the iPhones, instead using Nokias (because I was REALLY familiar with them) and then the Palm Treo and the Palm Pre plus. And I love(d) my Pre.

It's a great little device, small enough you could fit it comfortably in your PALM (sorry, bad pun). It's a very ergonomic, attractive little device, with a pull-out keypad for those of us who type like we have bananas for fingers. And WebOS is such a wonderfully intuitive operating system, with simple and very effective user interface. I loved it so much that we even got the HP/Palm Touchpad, knowing that it was no longer produced.

And so, like the many faithful Palm userrs out there, I was saddened to read about HP killing off these products, and the WebOS. Naturally, this is accompanied by ever decreasing Apps for the WebOS, including the loss of my beloved Epocrates (as a sidenote, I was somewhat pleased to read that HP fired their CEO for making all these about-turn decisions). Nonetheless I thought my Palm was in good enough shape that it should last me awhile. I babied my phone. Even to the point of powering down the unit every night to conserve battery life (from those days of using the NiCad battery phones). I kept it in my breast pocket, away from the coins and keys in my pants that might scratch the screen. I thought it would endure.

Until, as destiny would have it, there was a convergence point between a toddler, the handset and solid oak hardwood floors. In a split second, the touchscreen was cracked. And with it, all pressure-sensitive functions of the phone. It became a sleek (cracked) paperweight.

Being oncall in 3 days meant I had to replace the phone with something. Repairs were not an option anymore. At the cellular store, I held out hope that they might still carry some old unused Palms; they did not. I could order one online, except I'd be paying more for a 2 year old model that is no longer in production, compared to a relatively newer iPhone.

Truth be told, I did actually consider it. And the salesgirl actually said she's never seen anyone so attached to a Palm before (you could tell from the look on her face she thought I was an idiot for even considering it). And so, here we are.

I got an iPhone 4. Grudgingly. Sulkingly. I'm probably the only person in the world who's not thrilled to be upgrading to an iPhone. And more so out of objection than stinginess, I chose to not get the 4s.

After all, I already feel like I've lost my (2nd) wife. I'm not going to get Siri to replace her!

Sigh.