My Nomenclature Habit
I don't know about you, but I have a terrible habit. One I've had since I was knee high to the proverbial grasshopper. I name things. And who doesn't, right?
I mean, I name just about everything. What started with teddy bears and the like, moved to other things growing up till I hit adulthood and then? It moved from favourite childhood toys to grown-ups toys, namely, phones, fridges, cars. You know what I mean. Go on, you do it too, don't blush. We all do it to a certain extent.
Phones have become the most inventive of the nomenclature I've started and has been wildly fun over the years. What started simply as Mister Beep, my first phone, moved swiftly to Noisy Parker, and then, my first flip phone—and oh how I loved that Nokia phone and that feeling I had just arrived on the set of Star Trek!
Mr. Sulu was soon replaced alas and I don't remember by what or what I called it.
But then? Then came Apple. Oh, you glorious super sleek looking iPhone 4 with your beautiful aluminium body and comfortable feel in my hand. I loved you long and hard, my dear Lady Penelope, you carried all my music on to listen to anywhere any time. You went well with my original iWatch, Dick Tracy. I had you up until not a month ago when suddenly, overnight, in your charging cradle, you sadly passed away quietly in your slumber, busting you case. A fatal battery failure.
I loved Gooseberry (5c) the compact little fellow who was my primary phone till, that is, we upgraded yet again to the iPhone 11 an ugly, heavy, brick which I referred to as, The Rock. Which itself was soon replaced by the more lightweight, agile iPhone 12 mini. And oh how I now lament the loss of Mr. Midnight, you faithful old friend. You fit in my hand much like the 5C before you and were as comfortable to use and carry, as said Gooseberry.
Why I ever let myself be talked into upgrading again to the iPhone 14 pro I will never know. The $200 trade-in? Maybe. The better class of camera? Maybe. At least the pro is not as heavy or as cumbersome as the iPhone 11. And yes, Mr. Plum does have better storage and capabilities, but still ... still I mourn you my sweet Mister Midnight.
Maybe, maybe I need to just accept Mr. Plum didn't do it in the library, with the candlestick, to Mrs. White ... but who knows. I'm still a weird kid at heart. And you?