Pema

The Apple Car Is Coming… Next Year. Always Next Year.

Next year, the iPhone Fold is coming.
The year after that? It’ll be coming then, too.
And the year after that? Absolutely — next year.

It’s the same shimmering oasis on the Apple roadmap we’ve been trudging toward for a decade. Like the Apple Car. Remember the Apple Car? It’s been “almost here” longer than most people’s kids have been in school. Somewhere deep in Cupertino, I imagine a secret calendar marked with a single word under every year: “Tomorrow.”

We’ve seen no prototype, no spy shots, and no proof it can do anything a Honda Civic can’t — except maybe sync your wipers to iCloud. But trust the process. Apple is refining it. Perfecting it. Whispering to it softly in the lab.

And one day, we’ll finally see it. Next year.

Oliver write: I'll sell one of the kids if I have to. Maybe both. 
Sounds like an extreme statement. Do your kids know that they are on borrowed time?   

Why does that picture of Tim Cook keep popping up before earnings calls — the one where he looks like he might be sitting on the toilet?

Let’s stick to the cold, dusty facts.

Samsung has been flogging its folding phone for the past three years at a generous price point of $2,000. And where do these cutting-edge marvels reside? Locked behind glass cabinets at every major retailer I frequent—strategically placed right by the entrance for maximum visibility. You know, in case someone mistakes them for art installations. Despite the security, one thing still gets in: dust. Lots of it. These phones have been collecting it like they’re in a long-term relationship with neglect.

Now, imagine you're Samsung. You’ve poured years of R&D, marketing bravado, and PR spin into this thing. You manufacture components in bulk because surely the orders will flood in once people get wind of your sci-fi screen flipper. And then… crickets. Not a flood, not even a trickle. More like an accidental drip from a leaky tap.

So what do you do with warehouses full of unused folding screens? Enter Apple, stage left. “Hey,” they say, “we’re thinking about a folding phone.” And Samsung’s like: “Hallelujah, sweet redemption! We’ve been waiting for this moment. Take all the folding screens you want—we’ve got enough to wallpaper the moon.”

But here's the head-scratcher: Apple, smart as it is, somehow believes it can charge $2500 (because, you know, Apple tax) for a folding phone when Samsung couldn’t move theirs at $2000. I have a sneaking suspicion the same marketing guru who dreamt up the $3,500 Vision Pro price tag is behind this one too. “Why price something sensibly when you can make it aspirational?”

And if you still think folding phones are the future, just sashay over to the Google Store. Yep, they’ve got one too. Spoiler alert: it’s not exactly setting the world on fire either.

In summary: folding phones — the mullets of mobile tech. Novelty up front, disappointment in the back.

Like the Vision Pro, it’ll come with a ridiculous price tag. And just like the Samsung Fold—gathering dust on shelves for the past two years—it’s destined to be another overpriced gimmick no one actually uses.