My iPhone 3 GS has been my faithful companion since the heady days of 2011, but these days, it is more and more common for it to elicit snorts of laughter from non-Mustachians who wonder how a museum-piece phone can possibly offer the modern conveniences available for smartphone users.
(Incidentally, I know that smartphones themselves are distinctly non-Mustachian, but surely there is an exception that can be carved out for a 6-year-old model with a very cheap non-contract data plan.)
But since I mostly use it for the GPS, occasional newspaper web browsing, stupid app games, texting and old-fashioned talking, the phone meets my needs. Or at least it did until recently, when it began displaying the dreaded “Charging Is Not Supported With This Accessory” message despite the parentage of my Apple-branded charger being beyond reproach.
I visited the Apple store and met with a Genuis there who gave me five or possibly even ten minutes of his precious and valuable time to let me know there was no hope of ever resuscitating the phone for a cost the was less than buying a new iPhone 4 or 5 with a contract. According to the Genius, an unmatched Authority on all things Apple, the battery and power assembly on the phone was built into the case, so repairs were not even possible without replacing most of the phone’s circuitry and the back of the case (which sounded expensive).
But with some Googling, I discovered the culprit of this vexing message was likely the phone’s docking port. There were entire video series on YouTube devoted to replacing various iPhone parts that even seemed accessible to me, a curious but unskilled noob when it came to disassembling a phone and swapping out electronic parts. In fact, the very part I needed could be had on eBay for the low price of $4.78 including shipping.
In Neil Barker, producer of excellent YouTube videos, I found a Virgil to my Dante, one who could guide me into this miniature electronic Hell and back again. Inside the phone’s case, his videos showed, was a world filled with Mysterious Electronic Parts, Itty Bitty Screws, Circuit Boards and other subtleties. As I pulled my phone gently and gingerly apart, at last I came to the point of no return.
DO NOT REMOVE, the sticker warned me, and indeed Neil’s commentary informed that by removing the sticker and the screw it covered, I would be invalidating my Apple warranty. Here I paused.
Who was I, a neophyte, to go poking and prodding with my tiny screwdriver even further into the iPhone’s innards and possibly damaging the delicate circuitry within? Was this not foolish and reckless? Would the Apple Police kick in my door and drag me off to the FoxConn factory just for thinking about removing the DO NOT REMOVE sticker?
I know of an apartment building filled with mostly people who are low income and don't speak English very well. For the most part, they don’t have a lot of information about their rights or how the legal system works. Every time I visit this building, I am struck by an arrogant sign posted on the door by the building’s management.
ATTENTION RESIDENTS!!!
IT HAS COME TO OUT ATTENTION THAT SOME RESIDENTS ARE HOLDING THE FRONT DOOR OPEN FOR OTHER PEOPLE WHICH IS UNSAFE FOR US ALL. ALL BUILDING ENTRANCES MUST BE SWIPED AND ALL VISITORS MUST BE CLEARED THROUGH THE OFFICE. NO EXCEPTIONS!
ANYONE FOUND IN VIOLATION OF THESE RULES WILL BE REFERED TO THE ATTORNEYS OFFICE!
Now I am all for a safe and secure building, but the tone of this message infuriates me each and every time I read it. It would be better for the building’s management to recognize that the people who live there are not lackeys to be berated but renters who pay the semi-literate sign writer’s salary. Not only is it rude to use all caps, it’s even ruder to take advantage of the gullibility of residents, many of whom would not immediately recognize the threat of the ATTORNEYS OFFICE as laughable bluster.
Poised over the DO NOT REMOVE sticker, I realized that perhaps my guilty qualms were misplaced. Was it not silly for me to cower over Apple’s imagined punishments for removing a tiny sticker from MY OWN PROPERTY? What did I have to lose, really? Had the Genius not informed me that the only sensible place for my poor iPhone was a landfill where it would slowly leach out toxins for the 100 years or so?
I peeled off the sticker with the very tip of my fingernail, wadded it into a microscopic spitball, and tossed it in the wastebasket.
With Neil’s guidance, I completely disassembled the phone and replaced the power port. Although it took me twice as long as the hour the video estimated it would take for a beginner, the phone worked flawlessly after I had effected repairs.
A few great things that came out of this DIY project:
1. First and most obviously, I spent $4.78 instead of the cost of a replacement phone and the attendant "activation fee."
2. I saved the environment. Defunct electronic equipment is, pound for pound, some of the worst garbage human beings can generate short of nuclear waste. Brominated flame retardants, mercury and cadmium are just a few of the nasties that end up seeping back in our soil and water when we throw out electronics. My project means the world needs one less cheap, plastic phone shipped halfway around the world so an American can enjoy uninterrupted access to Facebook and Zynga games.
3. I learned not to be afraid of a medium-complicated repair project and built skills that will help me on my next medium-complicated project or even let me graduate to hard-complicated projects.
4. I felt like a badass. As I walked the streets today, I stood a little taller. My gaze was just a little bit more steely. I was just a little more ready to spring to the aid of any beautiful women who needed aid, and slightly more eager to thwart the dastardly aims of any Mustachioed Villians I might encounter (no offense meant to the MMM community).