Sure, iPhone. iAlso *drop* the phone

I've been meditating on my techno-lust over the last week, with a certain consumer electronics manufacturer's iDeal oBject foremost in my mind. As my brother put it in a text: 'ohmygod did u c Jobs' presentation! DESIRE!!'

And I'd be lying if I said I didn't share his enthusiasm, at least for one afternoon in front of the broadband: endlessly imagining my forefinger flicking across the surface of my very own, cutely customised iPhone, my ever-so-busy-and-creative life (or iLife – Christ, stop it) organised through its transmutable little screen.

But after at least twenty years of accumulating iDeal oBjects of every shape and size – green-glowing Amstrads, screen-cracking Psion PDAs, mobile phones where the camera falls off, Powerbooks whose CD drive expires with the slightest dunt – I am slowly beginning to know better.

My moment of asceticism about Apple's latest drug came when I actually looked at the Nokia N70 in my hand. Only six months on my person, and it's already as weathered and chipped as a stone-age amulet. It's been dropped, kicked and (at least once) actually drop-kicked, and it's still working more than adequately.

Would such a delicate concoction of circuits and plastic as Jobs' semi-magic mirror survive one day in my klutzy, children-packed, clumsily-pedestrian life? No chance. I can only dream at the poise and personal comportment that will be required to stop the iPhone from bouncing off the kitchen floor, as I bend over to yank the binliner out of the bin.

What amount of self-possession would be needed to keep my sharp-edged housekeys, and my beloved glossy mobile object, from living in the same bulging jacket pocket? More Zen mastery than I could ever attain, oh Jedi masters of Cupertino.

I think I will hold fire for a few years or so, until not only the expected procession of bugs are sorted, but the sheer robustness of the object itself has been properly assessed. As my injured Powerbook has shown me, there's nothing worse than becoming almost entirely dependent on a portable wireless device, and then - through one careless throw of a travel bag by a weary traveller - seeing its functionality decrease by a third.

The consumer electronics manufacturer that promises robustness as one of their unique selling points - the Volvo of the handheld world - will get my expenditure. Until that moment, I will meditate on my techno-lust a little longer.