Back when the dinosaurs walked, a velociraptor dropped its pink cell phone. I scooped it up and ran off to the Red Jug Pub. That was in 2007. Flash forward a millenium to 2010 and crikeys! I've still got the same phone!
Everyone's phones seem to have exploded or lost themselves or fallen into toilets. The rare handful who do not fall into this category have opted to move forward. Onward and upward.
I play on Flo's and Lena's iPhones each time I see them. Tony's Droid is overwhelming in all the possibilities of its little touch screen. I like the tactile approach, the ability to point and slide and direct with your finger tips to the screen.
Yet I'm already compulsive enough at my computer. Surely carrying the Internet around at all times would be worse. And while the wunderphones make it possible to contact a person in just about every manner besides calling them, I can handle my 300-texts-per-month limit. I can even handle a phone call. No video, GPS, Camp Rock apps necessary.