I couldn’t resist. I tried but ultimately, no. I gave in to desire.

I ordered the 32gig 3GS.

Read the full story at SiliconValley.com

There is hope for my iPhone.  It may live again.

Stay tuned…

[Update!  It's been repaired!  See details here.]

This morning at work I took off my coat and reached for my iPhone.  It wasn’t there.

Do not put your iPhone in a case that clips to your belt.

I noticed that carrying it in my shirt pocket tended to drag the front of my shirt down.  In a perfect geek world this wouldn’t matter, but my friends confided in me that it didn’t look flattering.  The iPhone is, by today’s standards, a rather large and heavy mobile phone — with good reason, it’s the ultimate gadget — and I saw the need to be a bit tidier in my appearance, so I found a nice leather iPhone case that clipped to my belt.

It worked out for about a month.  This morning, however, I was putting something in the back seat of my car, and the case came unclipped from my belt.  I didn’t notice it was gone until I got to work.

You have to understand — ever since I got this iPhone G3 16GB, it’s become a symbiotic part of my system.  An external portion of my brain and senses.  I use it for everything.  It never leaves my person.  I sleep next to it.

At first I didn’t panic.  I thought that I must have left it on the kitchen table.  I’d done that once before.  No big deal.

Then I remembered the part about putting something in the back seat of my car, and knew it could have popped off my belt while doing so.  That meant it could be sitting alone, abandoned, on the cold cement floor.

My iPhone.

I left work immediately, feeling sick, knowing that if it was indeed on the floor of the garage, there was a chance I could have run over it.  I imagined it smashed there, dead.  I wondered what the heck I would do.  How could I live without it?  I mean, I’ve already invested lots of money in software, lots and lots of time setting things up.  My bank account, my passwords, my shopping list … not to mention all the fun and nifty apps.  The GPS mapping system, which I had only recently come to depend upon.

So I got home, opened the garage door, and saw it there on the ground.

Worse, there were definite tire tracks on the case.

I FREAKING RAN OVER MY FREAKING IPHONE!

(“Freaking” is not the F-word I was using, nor is it the one I originally typed here.)

I have never ruined a camera, a radio, a stereo, a PDA, an iPod, or any of my beloved little gadgets.  Ever.  EVER EVER.

This was my favorite one of ALL TIME, and I RAN IT OVER WITH MY CAR.

Staring at the ruins of the smashed screen, I had a kind of religious experience.  This must be a message to me from God.  This is God’s way of telling me, I am way too attached to a gadget.

Gathering up my poor smashed iPhone, and my sick mess of emotions, I drove mournfully back to work.  I called Apple.  I called AT&T.  I searched eBay.  I examined my options.

Repair it:  $279
Replace it:  $399
Cut my losses and cancel my account:  $170
Buy a cheapo no-frills replacement phone:  $40

And then to my amazement, my phone rang.  My iPhone.  I picked it up, slid my finger across the broken screen (from memory) and lo and behold I was talking to someone.  After that I started fiddling with it.  The thing still works!  Only the screen is broken.

That says a lot about the case.  I don’t know of many phones that you can run over with your car and then still make a call on it.

So, technically, my iPhone isn’t dead — it’s crippled.  I still haven’t decided what to do.  I’m still wondering if the thing is a boon or a hindrance in my life.  I love the thing, but ever since I got it my writing projects — especially my new novel — have suffered.

I may just say goodbye to it, and learn from the experience.

Don’t love the tool more than the task.

At my company chili cook-off yesterday, I won a door prize.  A Fellows™ “Bulldog” shredder.  Last night I hooked it up and terrorized every piece of paper that had ever caused me grief.  “Aha!  YOU!  YOU GAVE ME A PAPER CUT!  Mwahahahaha!  Into the shredder with you!  INTO ZEE SHREDDER!  Mwa-hahahahahahaha!”

Knock on the door.  Instant silence in my room.  “Dad, are you being an evil mad scientist again?” comes a little voice.

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay.  Just making sure.”

My eyes roam around the room for another doomed piece of paper…

Okay, it’s the year 2007. Where’s my flying car? Where’s the instant matter transporter? Where’s my mail-order factory-created baby?

Um, never mind about the baby part, but I could really use the other two. My girlfriend lives 800 miles away. Instant transport would be handy!

This is the future, though. We’re living it. So, what do we have that was science fiction a mere 30 years ago? Well, for one thing, the Star Trek tricorder is a reality, as is their flip-open communicator. We have a space station, but not the large graceful toroid promised to us. And we have robotic servants and even maids, which are just in their infancy and not quite ready to take over the world. I mean, I don’t see anyone besides the household cat running in terror from an errant Roomba.

Reading science fiction to me is no longer as exciting as reading about real science. The breakthroughs being made today boggle my mind. The gadgets and gizmos being cranked out during the next 5-10 years … wow.

It’s a good time for us gadget freaks to be alive.