Why On Earth Would I Fold My Phone?

The Crease-Free Fairy Tale

I remember when a 'milestone' meant you’d driven another mile down the Interstate without the radiator blowing sky-high. Now, apparently, it means some fancy-schmancy glass screen is finally ready to be mass-produced in May without a little line down the middle. They’re calling it the 'iPhone Fold.' Why on God’s green earth would I want a phone that folds? I spent half of 1994 trying to unfold physical maps, and once those things get a crease, they never go back. Now Apple wants me to trust that their two-thousand-dollar piece of glass is going to behave better than a Rand McNally? I don't buy it. My son tried to show me a 'foldable' phone last Thanksgiving, and I swear I heard the thing crunch like a bag of potato chips the moment he closed it. He said it was 'haptic feedback,' but I know the sound of structural failure when I hear it.

And they’re saying this screen is going into mass production soon. Mass production used to mean quality control, but nowadays it just means they're cranking out a million units of planned obsolescence so they can sell you the next version when the hinge starts squeaking like my old knees. This 'leaker' person—who probably doesn't even own a lawnmower—says May is the big month. Well, May is also when the cicadas come out, and frankly, I’d rather listen to a swarm of bugs for six weeks than hear one more tech executive talk about 'seamless user experiences' while my VCR is still flashing 12:00.

Bigger Pockets or Smaller Brains?

The article says this thing is six months away. That gives me exactly six months to prepare for the inevitable onslaught of people at the grocery store trying to pay for a gallon of milk with a device that looks like a makeup compact. Whatever happened to a good, solid brick of a phone? You could drop a Nokia off a skyscraper and it would put a hole in the sidewalk while still being able to call your mother. Now, if you look at these new screens the wrong way, they shatter into a million digital tears. They talk about 'crease-free' as if it's the second coming of the steam engine. I’ve got pants older than the people designing these phones, and my pants have creases that are actually useful. I don’t need my phone to look 'sharp.' I need it to stay in one piece when I accidentally sit on it because I forgot it was in my back pocket.

I went to the DMV yesterday—don't even get me started on the wait times there, it’s like they hire people specifically for their ability to move in slow motion—and every single person in line was hunched over a glowing rectangle. If we start giving them rectangles that fold, they’ll never look up. We’ll have a whole generation of people with 'folder’s neck.' It’s a health crisis waiting to happen. And the cost! If they're mass-producing these panels, you can bet your bottom dollar they’ll be charging us a king’s ransom. I could buy three used Buicks for the price of one of these fancy hinges.

The Hinge of My Discontent

They say the milestone is 'entering mass production.' Big deal. I’ve seen things enter mass production before—New Coke, the Edsel, those little electronic pets that died if you didn't 'feed' them. Just because you can make a lot of something doesn't mean you should. I want to know what happens when a piece of pocket lint gets inside that folding mechanism. I can’t even get the crumbs out of my computer keyboard, and you’re telling me this high-tech wallet is going to survive the bottom of a lady’s purse or the sawdust in my workshop? It’s a pipe dream. A very expensive, very fragile pipe dream. I bet the 'leaker' didn't mention the repair costs. It'll probably cost five hundred dollars just to have a guy in a genius bar look at it with a magnifying glass while he explains that 'dust ingress' isn't covered under warranty.