A eulogy to my Nokia: One seriously passionate user

We all know the weekend means lack of news and press releases, so what to do, what to find … I stumbled across this and knew I had to repost it. I’m not going to clip any of the text out since it’s beautiful. Leave him some love when you’re done reading this post. Excuse me while I get a box of tissues.

Source: In The Crease

Farewell old friend, you have been good to me.

Always
the reliable figure, You’ve lived to a ripe old age of 10, which was
quite an accomplishment for something like you. We’ve been through
times together throughout high school, and the latter bit of
university. You made me look "cool". Throughout the times, until the
very bitter end, you remained mostly in good shape, with all parts
working. You’ve put in excellent service for me, and you’ve made me
look cooler than I actually am just by gracing me with your presence.
Then death due to a malfunctioning antennae did you in, and you never
regained reception after suffering a massive shutdown of your vital
parts, mainly the connection that connected the antenna to your
motherboard. Tragic death, but one that was a long time coming.

Your
deterioration started when I accidentally smashed you up when I walked
into a door (don’t ask me how I didn’t see it) with you resting in my
shoulder pocket of my knapsack. You sacrificed yourself at the expense
of my shoulder and bore the brunt of the damage. The tragic and later
deemed fatal accident had your antennae severed, which was surgically
reattached (more like shoved in again) when i found pieces of your
broken body scattered over the floor, Attached was your antennae, but
it never worked quite the same. Surgeons were unable to find you
another part from an organ donor, and the cost of the procedure was too
expensive to afford. Little did I know you only had hours to live.

Your
screen reminded people of the green colour of slime, and you stayed
traditional, as you never showed the "colour screens" like all your
fellow cellphones have started showing up with these days. Mr.
Versatility, you weren’t. If I wanted to use you as a cellphone, you
would allow me to dial a number or browse my address book. But if I
wanted to compare you to the new phones and tried to use you as a
camera or a flashlight or an mp3 player, I learned to realize taht I
couldn’t get you to do any of those things.

Everyone said you
were quite the awkward figure, but I never thought so. I liked you the
way you were. People may have laughed at you every time they saw your
face, but I never did. I always respected your conservative looks, and
I would say that it’s simply a matter of tastes. Your silver face
promoted an image that was a lot more serious than the pink and blue
and purple face plates you can buy these days. And your leather jacket
that you referred to as your "carrying case"? Gorgeous. You could have
picked up any lady at the club with looks like that.

Some said
you were too big and you were even given the nickname "The Brick"
because you made one side of my jacket hang lower than the other
whenever I had you in my inside pocket. But I wouldn’t say you should
have been conscious about your size, rather, you just "stuck out" from
the crowd. You weren’t big, the new phones just have some sort of
midget disease. Your sheer size ensured I’d never lose you because I
couldn’t lose sight of you. But I realized you were a bit self
conscious. Your need for attention by not being able to fit in my jeans
pocket whenever I was seated was always a factor in your lack of
self-esteem, as you were the butt of all QCCC jokes every time you
forced me to remove you from my pocket when we were at the caf. Yes,
perhaps you may have hated Jessie and Simon in particular because they
always made fun of your size, but don’t worry about it. You’re up in a
better place now.

And some said that you were a bit overweight.
But I would have just told you that the new phones these days are
anorexic. Your weight issues could have been because you had a penchant
to eat up all your battery power in just a few hours. You were a bit
demanding in the sense that I had to feed you for 8 hours a day so you
could give me 5-10 minutes of talk time before being hungry again. I
put you through a weight-loss program back in high school when I bought
you a slimmer battery, but unfortunately, you had to reject it and
render it useless and go back to the bigger fatter one again until just
before the end of your life. Excessive cellular obesity also did you
in. Your arteries were probably clogged with loose connections and
stuff that slowed you down.

You were also a bit greedy. You
would charge me 30 cents a minute for each call. You were also very
demanding in that I’d have to top you up with more money every month or
I’d lose my phone number with you. You were also quite the solitary
figure. You were socially awkward around other eletronic devices,
probably because most devices failed to make it to your age. You were
afraid to make friends with other devices, and I just wasn’t able to
get you connected with my computer or laptop like other phones are able
to do nowadays.

But you were fun to be with. You provided great
and much-needed entertainment to me with your variety of games. Logic,
Snake and Memory helped me through my PSYC classes from hell with Dr.
Mike Condra after I ran out of sudoku puzzes, and I will miss how none
of the recent phones are willing to play the same games that you were
willing to play.

Overall, your presence will be dearly missed.
At the last QCCC meeting already, several people inquired about your
whereabouts, only to be disappointed that they will never see you
again. They said that we went well together, and they couldn’t picture
me with something else. They took you for granted in that they made fun
of you when you were teetering at the brink of retirement/death, but
now that you’re gone, they want you back.

Only you won’t be.

Good
bye dear Nokia (NYSE: NOK) 6185i, and enjoy the rest of your life in phone heaven.
Say hi to your giant flip phone cousins for me. You will always have a
place dear to my heart. Rest in peace, my dear friend.

Your faithful user,

Kenneth Lau