A week or so ago I had dinner with a friend, and (of course) one of the topics discussed was the then-upcoming iPhone launch. We discussed the gamble of buying a 1.0 Apple product, the possibilities for interesting additions in upcoming iPhones, and (most of all) the painful cost of the iPhone. We both lamented the fact that it just didn’t seem to make sense to get an iPhone yet.
Fast forward to iPhone day +1.
My old-fashioned cell phone displays a crummy little line drawing of an envelope to let me know that I have a voicemail message. I dial my voicemail, listening to the prompts and pressing buttons like a trained monkey. The message plays. It is this selfsame friend.
“Hey, Whit. I just wanted to give you a call to make sure that you have the number for my new…oh, what’s it called again…oh, yeah…iPhone!“
The remainder of the message was about a minute of gleeful cackling.
I take some consolation from the fact that this individual will be starting a job at Microsoft very shortly. I’m figuring that when BillG sees the iPhone and breaks George’s fingers, I can offer to take the iPhone off his hands for a reasonable price.