It’s finally time to say goodbye to my brick of a mobile phone. Although you lasted a good eight years, it’s sadly time for you to be replaced by one that is younger, shinier, slimmer and more capable than you.
It was but only seven years ago when we were introduced to one another. You were handed to me by a uni housemate who had left you battered and unloved. But for me, Nokia 3510i, you were the best I’d ever had.
And that little ‘i’ at the end of your numerical name was ever so important – it signified that you were, in fact, ahead of your time. When you first came into this cruel world not only were you one of the first mobiles to sport a colour display, you brought mobile internet to the masses.
A phone I could rely on
Sure, you had been around a bit before you met me, but there were so many reasons to love you. With your chunky buttons you’d let me text faster than any of your modern grandsons.
Your hard exterior could ward off injuries when you were cruelly dropped onto tiles, concrete, or frozen lakes. Just watch an iPhone fall to the ground and you’ll find them shattered into a hundred pieces. But you? You just brushed off your bruises and began the day anew. Even being plunged into a puddle wouldn’t concern you – that was nothing a little time by the fire and a loving caress of a flannel wouldn’t fix.
Others may have laughed at you in the last couple of years, but it was only their jealousy that came shining through. Where they saw chunkiness, I saw sturdiness. Where they saw unwieldy buttons, I saw ease of use. Where they said you were well worn, I said you were well-loved.
And what made us laugh most of all? Battery life. Your robust lithium-ion cell would last 12.5 days, enough to prompt a huge cackle when compared to the smartphones of today.
It’s time to move on
So why am I discarding you now? ‘What did I ever do to you?’ I hear you cry. Well I’ve tried to hide the truth for some time, but you’re continually failing on me. At best your bulkiness doesn’t fit in the pocket of my jeans. At worst your buttons fail and I’m left in the rain on a London street, alone, drunk, with no way to call for help.
Not only that, but your battery fails every time I receive a call. And if I am lucky enough to get one, you’re so blocked up that I can’t hear a word that’s said on the other side of the line.
No, as much as I regret this, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s time to throw you in the bin or respectfully recycle your shattered shell. You’re not worth a penny to anyone anymore, but you’ll always be in my heart. Farewell sweet Nokia 3510i.