February 21st 2019
Today I cracked my phone screen. I was trying to put it into my inside jacket pocket, but my scarf was covering the pocket, so my phone slid down the scarf like a kid on the Oasis domebusters. (I’ve just realised that about three of you will understand that reference)
It’s not the first time I’ve dropped my phone, obviously, but it’s never cracked before. It’s not completely smashed, but it’s cracked enough for me to be annoyed every time I use it and part of the screen is obscured by the crack. It’s very noticeable.
To be fair, my phone is fucked anyway. The headphone jack is full of fluff and hasn’t worked in about a year, the loudspeaker barely goes loud enough to hear over an ambient hum of a room because of the amount of times I’ve taken my phone into a steamy bathroom with me to listen to music while taking a shower. And besides that, the switch on the side to turn it from silent to loud is stuck permanently on silent anyway.
It also struggles to connect to both Wifi and 4G data signals. Really, it’s a pretty dumb phone these days. But I’m okay with that. I don’t need it to be smarter than it is. There was a time when I would’ve been more annoyed than I am about my cracked screen, but I’m pretty chill about it, really. I’m not as addicted to my phone as I once was, because by this point it barely even works. But that’s kind of by design.
I no longer see the point in spending £50 a month on the latest version of the iPhone. I’m still rocking a 6S in 2019 and it does exactly what I need it to do.
I don’t think I’m alone in this either. It’s a growing trend among my generation. People aren’t buying new phones anymore. And since Apple got sued for planned obsolescence in their manufacturing and design, old phones are lasting longer.
Until tomorrow, unless you drop them on concrete, that is.