In Jobs we trust

It's the age old dilemma: the secular world versus the spiritual; the things you can't touch and the things you can't stop touching. And this Friday, the conundrum continues, when Apple's long awaited iPhone lands in the UK - on Diwali.

I'd booked the day off work, picked out a traditional outfit, planned my route to the temple (casual shirt, hipster jeans, Central Line to the Regent Street Apple Store). I was all set to get in line and get an iPhone (at 6:02pm - its official launch time, inspired by Apple's O2 partnership), when my mum called.

"Don't forget Diwali on Friday," she said.

Diwali is the Hindu festival of lights. And although the iPhone boasts - amongst other things - a backlit touchscreen, queueing for one on Regent Street is not, apparently, an appropriate way to give thanks to God.

At £269, with a minimum 18 month contract, the iPhone is rather an appropriate way to give thanks to Steve Jobs, blue jeaned and turtle necked co-founder and CEO of Apple, who in September announced the iPhone's arrival in the UK.

"We can't wait to let UK customers get their hands on it," he said.

I can't wait either, Steve. But instead, at 6:02pm tonight, I'll be putting my hands together and celebrating the return of Lord Rama. I'll also be praying that there'll be iPhones in stock by the time I get to an Apple store on Saturday.

But why am I so blasphemingly excited?

Well, the iPhone is, to the mobile phone market, what the iPod is to MP3 players. Neither are the first, but both are quite easily the best - light years ahead of anything else - and clear solutions to the problems that have plagued consumers since computers could talk to peripherals.

For years, you've been able to synchronise your mobile phone with your computer - it's nothing new - but, honestly, who does it (without wincing)?

The software has been clunky, the hardware flimsy and the whole process of navigating your phone awkward and messy. Apple cuts through that predictable haze with a phone that's a joy to use (I know because I've used one), and built on the iPod/iTunes model that's served an unprecedented 119 million customers.

At its price, and worrying O2 lock in, the iPhone might take some time to reach those kind of sales. I don't doubt that we'll see a price drop in the next year (or an iPhone nano), but in the meantime, expect to see iPhone-flourishes in all new mobile phones, as manufacturers step up their game, as they have post iPod.

It looks like we can all give thanks to Jobs. So, this weekend, put your hands together, in your pocket or on your iPhone and have a Happy Diwali/iPhone Day.

• iPhone - [via Apple.com/uk]

Get ready for iPhone

Apple has its own 'Get ready for iPhone' guide, with advice on how to prepare your contacts, calendar, music and videos. In anticipation of tonight's UK launch, I've prepared my own pre-purchase to-do list.

'Finger tips'
Before you reach your grubby hands into your soon-to-be empty pockets tonight, make sure your fingers are worthy of the iPhone's gorgeous 3.5-inch touch screen display.

It takes at least fifteen seconds to wash your hands properly, which - according to a dedicated NHS hand washing website - is about the amount of time it takes to sing the 'Happy Birthday' song twice through. The site includes a 10 step guide, but if you can memorise the routine ("Step 6: backs of fingers to opposing palms with fingers interlocked"), you might as well learn this.

Look the part
You might think that buying an iPhone is your ticket to the lifestyles of the rich and courageous. But remember, tonight's launch is for the first generation model, so expect to see some early adopters and hardcore Apple fan boys in the queue.

Plus, this isn't San Francisco.

So, stand out from the crowd of the great unwashed, the forum fanatics and - dare I say - the Windows users, and pick an outfit that's casual, clean and as close to Justin Long as you can manage. (Unless, of course, you're a girl, in which case wear nothing and make a queue of geeks very happy.)

Make a nest
You're going to want to play with your iPhone right away (make a few 'emergency calls only' before you activate it), but think about how you'll carry it from one curious admirer to another. Don't just stuff it into your jeans' pocket with your keys, redundant iPod nano and Wii controller.

If you're going to put it in your jeans, make sure you wash them first, inside out with the pockets reversed. Fortunately, the iPhone gets a winter launch here in the UK, so most punters will be wearing jackets to brave the queue. Pick one with a lined inner pocket and place your iPhone with its screen facing you.

My reputation recedes me

I have a lot less sex than people imagine. In fact, it's people's imagination, I think, that's preventing me from doing so (that and my strange face, probably). In their heads, I'm sprawled across a boudoir chaise longue, explosive kegs between my legs, dining on three square meals of girls, girls, girls...

When in actual fact, I've an appetite like a python. Eyes bigger than my belly (already pretty big), I get all wrapped up, bite off more than I can chew and lie bloated for another year. (The resemblance doesn't extend to my anatomy, unfortunately. I'm more like a grass snake in that respect.)

But I met this girl on Monday, and I was hoping things would follow suit like the Craig David song. But instead she said, "I bet you do alright with the ladies."

Now, I'm no gambling man, but either way, I figure, is a losing hand. There seemed little reward in betting against her, but there was something about her assumption that seemed to lower my odds. It was as if she was saying, "You do alright. You don't need this."

Hang on, I thought. This isn't like tipping a lawyer or sending Donald Trump a tenner. If an athlete does well in the Olympics give him a gold medal, surely. Applaud him at the finish line. But here I was, waiting for the starting pistol.

"Oh, I do alright," I said, ironically. Unfortunately, the pub was loud, and my self-deprecation construed as declaration, as if I was laying my cards on the table and revealing aces.

But she'd failed to see my joker and raised her eyebrows. If there was a starting pistol, I thought, I'd shot myself in the foot.And would lie bloated for another year.

'Talk' on sale

I don't often give special shout outs on this here blog. Let's face it, I don't post a great deal either. But there's a sale over at my mate's blog and talk, it turns out, is cheap. You should check it out on the link below or via my blog roll.

Talk It Is Cheap is the true story of a single, chauvinistic, twentysomething, English man in New York.

Head on over and leave comments.

• Talk It Is Cheap [Peter Woods]