This is my cell phone that I've had for five years. I'm sure it's a dinosaur but I get my calls nevertheless. I went with Ben to Verizon for his i-Phone with the 5G network and voice recognition that tells you you're fat when you pick up a doughnut. Now with SIRI formally IRIS allows you to stop talking to idiots all day long and just talk to your phone. It's sort of replaced the magic Eight Ball of the 60's. There's nothing as fulfilling as walking around with a hand held device that has more information than the New York Public Library.
Poor Babba, "One G", goes into the Verizon Store hoping to see some cell phones. The store is full of Droids, Blackberries, iPhones and Smart-Phones. Off in some dark corner marked bargain-bin are three primitive cell phones. The message is clear: if you only want a cell phone you must be some low-life Cretan that only needs a phone in case you break your hip on the way to the day-room.
Since I don't want a desk-top computer on my hip, or an eight pixel camera, or a GPS, or a talking friend, perhaps I should pick up a few Motorola W-385 cell phones before they are kept behind the counter and carried in brown paper bags.