I thought it was bad when my husband became addicted to his new Blackberry phone a little over two years ago. He had resisted plunging into the world of Blackberry for some time, even buying another smartphone just to rebel. But apparently his other smartphone, which I can’t even remember the name of, was far inferior to the new Blackberry Pearl we were both eyeing after I moved out here. So, we decided to get a family plan together and splurge on the Blackberry Pearls. We got a pretty good deal on them and were required to carry a data plan for several months in order to get a rebate. He instantly became a fan of his new phone and all its functionality and carried it around like a baby. Then, four months later he got another Blackberry phone to use at work. He went from an anti-Blackberry snob to having two within six months. It was all I could do to just roll my eyes.

He soon became one of those Blackberry addicts who had to check his email every five minutes or see if anything interesting was happening on his favorite news websites, just because he could. He would insist on using the slow-loading google maps even when we knew where we were going. Why remember how to get places, when you could look it up on your phone? It was his Crackberry. Addicted. He became so preoccupied with his toy that I could be speaking to him, and he wouldn’t even notice.

One day, he came home from work and proudly proclaimed, “I have bionic Blackberry ears! I was in the kitchen at work and heard my phone receive an email all the way from my office, and sure enough it had received an email when I went to check!!” Wow. Just wow. I really didn’t think it could get any worse.

But then something happened that shook the very foundation of the Crackberry world and all of its addicts. The iPhone. It was new. It had no buttons. No rolling pearl in the middle that would wear out in a matter of months. Just simple, user-friendly design genius. A hard drive to hold pictures and music. Easily accessible internet that didn’t require typing on those tiny little buttons to see a less-than-ideal version of a website. A mini computer with a phone, camera, etc. Need I say more? You have surely all heard of the iPhone by now. Crackberry addicts the world over were salivating to get a taste of iPhone madness, and my husband was no different. He resisted at first, like he did with the Blackberry, saying how it was just all fluff or for show. No substance. Too expensive to possibly be worth it.

Over the next several months, his resolve softened. He had heard that one of the new work phones that would serve as a replacement for broken Blackberrys would be, you guessed it, the iPhone. He immediately began planning his work Blackberry’s downfall. Secretly, he yearned for his very own iPhone, though he wouldn’t admit it at first. Then his brother who works at Apple got one. On a visit, he had the chance to play with the iPhone and began openly pining for one.

Then I concocted the plan to get him an iPhone for Christmas. I needed his brother’s help, and together we made it happen. You wouldn’t believe his unbridled excitement at opening his small-but-expensive gift on Christmas morning. It was love at first sight. Soon, over the course of the day, he had disappeared into an even higher state of addicted bliss. This was worse than a Crackberry. This was an iGone. He began to recede from life. His ears stopped hearing those around him speak. His mind only had enough focus for his new little gizmo. If he didn’t hear me ask him questions when he had his Crackberry, he didn’t even know I was in the room with his iGone. His iGone literally took him into another state of being. An alternate reality. There was no point in trying to get through to him. He was just… gone.