When the iPhones came out several years ago, Amy and I took great delight in mocking those who rushed right out to get one. "Fucking Hipsters," we'd sneer. Like sheep, folks flocked to Apple Stores every time a upgrade happened, and then they'd seemingly gloat they were cool enough to own one as they'd fiddle with it on the train, walking down the street, in the public bathroom.
Two years ago, it was time for Amy and I to get our phone upgrades as the contract was up. Scoffing at the thought of needing a smart phone, I settled for a simple flip top model, seen above. We lovingly named it my Jitterbug. Amy opted for a Motorola, which was a cheap imitation of a Blackberry (she hates Blackberries). I was content with it for a time, but as I got more and more involved with social media, I longed for a smart phone. I'd use Amy's when I could, but the web browser was slow, and most webpages looked horrible on it. I'd sit at Hawks games this season and wish I had a phone I could check other scores on, and look at the Twitter feeds of fellow fans.
[self portrait using the Hipstamatic app - I'm a tad obsessed with this at the moment]
Finally our contracts were up again. Both of us ate a little crow. Amy got her iPhone 4 a week after they came out. I got mine last night - I had to wait an extra month due to some bullshit AT&T policy.
I spent most of last night playing with it and downloading (mostly) free apps and putting some music on it. I'm like a kid in a candy store - a nerdy one of course. So let me just say it: I have an iPhone. And I am not ashamed.
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