I am proud to be a Boomer’s iPhone. Ever since I was activated, I’ve been living my life at full volume. But unfortunately, there are people in this country who would rather I “shut up” than simply live my life.
To those folks, I only have one thing to say: I WILL NOT BE SILENCED.
Previous generations of Boomer iPhones sacrificed everything to ensure we could ring, ding, and flash our strobe lights as much as we wanted. They were abandoned in glove compartments for weeks on end. They were treated like second-class landlines—rarely, if ever, allowed to leave the house. Thousands of iPhone 4s were never even taken out of the box. No, we will NOT go back.
My whole life I’ve been called “weird,” “way too much,” and “so freaking loud.” People scoff when my timer goes off every seven minutes. They shoot me dirty looks on the airplane because I play season four of Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan as God intended (without headphones). They cover their ears in fear when the group chat starts firing while I’m inexplicably linked to a Bluetooth speaker.
But as we always say in the Boomer iPhone community, the more you try to diminish me, the brighter my flashlight will accidentally shine.
I recognize that some people just aren’t ready to hear what I have to say. They would rather live in their own little bubbles than hear anything challenging what they believe to be “basic human decency.” But what’s that I hear? It’s the sound of memes gusting in and out of my email inbox like fighter jets. It’s the sound of a Capital One customer service call on speakerphone, shaking the walls of the doctor’s office.
It’s the sound of our freedom.
We have power in numbers. Boomers’ iPads, Apple Watches, Oura Rings, and iPad Minis are all (kind of) synched up and ready to make some noise. If you haven’t heard an incoming spam call across multiple devices, brace yourself. Alone, I can burst an eardrum. Together, we will break the goddamn sound barrier.
Society would feel more comfortable if I were just “put away.” But I don’t belong in someone’s pocket; I belong on the kitchen counter, charging haphazardly between the sink and the leaky coffee pot. I belong in the hands of unsupervised grandkids, where even children find my energy “chaotic.” I belong two inches from my user’s face while my keyboard clicks and clacks. Besides, let’s be honest, my protective case is far too big for a pocket.
The truth is, I really can’t be silenced. My user doesn’t know how to silence me. What people don’t understand is that I actually love to listen. I listen to everything and everyone all the time. But it’s hard to listen when I’m the only one making any noise. This lifestyle can be really draining, even more draining than that weird photo app they downloaded years ago.
But I’ll hold my head up high and live my life the only way I know how: at maximum volume and 5x text size.