Disclaimer: I own some Apple stock
After a month-long wait – and salivating the entire time – I finally got my iPhone 6 Plus. I don’t know how Apple manipulates my emotions so effectively but I am thoroughly impressed at the mental anguish they put me through while I waited.
My heart was racing as I removed the phone from its strikingly well-designed packaging. Apple makes the process of opening a box feel as if you are winning a prize. Every color, shape, texture and probably smell has been studied and tweaked to perfection. Simply touching the product or its associated packaging is a tactile joy.
The experience of getting the iPhone 6 Plus was like getting a puppy. From my first touch of the sleek, sexy miracle of technology I was hooked. I loved it before I even charged it up.
It was large in my hand, and slippery to hold, but I didn’t mind. That would be like complaining that my newborn baby was too heavy. This phone is pure art and emotion frozen in a design genius so subtle that competitors probably can’t even duplicate it. It was pure beauty. Sometimes I found myself just staring at it on the desk because I loved it so. Oh, and it works well too.
But I needed a case. I tried to imagine my anguish if I accidentally dropped this new member of my family and cracked it. I needed protection.
So I went to the Verizon store and bought the only cover they had left that doesn’t look like a six-year old girl’s bedroom wall. The color of my new case could best be described as Colonoscopy Brown. It is deeply disturbing. But because I love my iPhone 6 Plus, and want to keep it safe, I put it on.
Now my phone is not so much a marvel of modern design. Nor would I say it is nourishing my soul with beauty and truth the way it did when naked.
Now it just looks like a Picasso that three hundred homeless people pooped on. You know there’s something good under there but it is hard to care. Now when I see my hideous phone on my desk I sometimes think I can hear Siri beg me “Look away! Look away!”
So Apple sold me pure beauty but they cleverly put a short fuse on it so I would cherish the fleeting memory even more. They knew I would need a case, and they knew my phone would look terrible in it. But I still have that sweet memory of the day I removed the virginal phone from its packaging and saw it in all its natural beauty. Even then I knew that I would need to cover this sensual work of art with the equivalent of a phone burka just to keep my hands off it. I will not see my naked phone again until the day I upgrade and scrape away its rotting case. But I will always cherish the memory of my first look of the iPhone 6 Plus.
Beauty needs to be temporary to be appreciated. I think those magnificent bastards at Apple know that. I think they made the case slippery by design. They want you to know that if you keep your phone selfishly naked, and try to hoard the beauty that is designed to be temporary, that phone will respond by slipping out of your hand and flying to its crackly death on a sidewalk.
THAT, my friends, is good design.
Note: I think a hacker now owns my personal twitter account @Scott Adams925. I can’t get in, can’t generate a password reset email, and can’t get a response from any stoners at Twitter to fix it. I’ll wait a week then abandon that account and start over. (Yes, I checked my spam folders for the reset email. Thank you in advance for assuming I am an idiot.)