Then it was pointed out to me that my little iPhone has been through so much. A five-second dunking in the chilly waters of the Kenai River.
Last photo, before the dunking.
A humiliating 36-hour nap in a bag of rice.
And it LIVED! It came out the other side. A slight bit worse for wear, yes. It's a tad wonky now. Apps don't quite close when they're supposed to. Things sorta "happen" on their own. But whatever. This thing is 99% workable.
So how can I kick it out the door? That's like divorcing your wife after she's slightly disfigured or brain-addled in a car accident. Dishonorable, right? Right.
But to give it a newish feel, I made a decision. It's always sucked that I had to have that big ugly plastic cover over it to protect it. Because I'm Senor Butterfingers. I drop it often. So now I've made the decision to let it go naked. It's already come back from death, so every day it's still alive is a gift.
If I drop it and kill it I'll get a new one. And it won't even hurt because for 36 hours in Alaska I was fully mentally adjusted to the concept of getting a replacement.
I will be shocked if it makes it to Christmas. But duly reverent.