The phone I've been using for three years now is a Planet Computers Gemini PDA, is also known as the Planet Gemini PDA, the Gemini PDA, the Planet Gemini, and probably a few others. I refer to mine as "Plumbago" – "Plum" for short" – since they started out a sort-of-twin of my spouse's Gemini PDA known as "Galena". (Not explaining here, but Wikipedia can help!)

The Gemini PDA is bulkier than most smartphones because it's not just a polished slab. It's a clamshell that opens to a very phone-like screen and a very palmtop-computer-like keyboard. I hate working with on-screen keyboards, and this was one of the few phone-like devices left with an integrated physical keyboard. What I didn't know when I purchased it is that its physical build is not meant at all to be an in-the-pocket flip-it-open-whenever "daily driver".

Its innards are sturdy enough – poor Plum has taken several hard falls and kept right on ticking – but only when the gently-curved-at-the-edges metal exterior is fully intact. On the top half, it's all anchored reasonably well and supported internally to be nice and solid. On the underside, the only thing keeping the metal plate from bowing inward is the massive battery, and it ain't thick enough to do that.

This isn't just a case of looking ugly, because it's barely noticeable. The trouble comes because the only things holding that plate on are a few tiny little tabs on the edge toward the hinge, and an inward curl on the outer edge that clings to a not-very-prominent lip on the black plastic of the interior. The magnets holding the phone together are strong and without tabs or indents to make it easier, so prying it open is not a one-handed task. One has to either get one's nails in between the halves, or pressing fingertips against that curled edge. When the plate is bowed, the edge pulls away enough from the plastic to wear it down a little each time, so in not too long there's very little to actually hold the plate on. And this gets worse and worse over time. Eventually, the plate just won't stay on at all, meaning it pops off whenever the phone is opened or set on a table or put in a pocket.

This is the plate that covers the battery. The battery is held in by only a fragile ribbon cable and a single strip of adhesive strong enough to make battery removal a frightening process, but not strong enough to keep it attached during a four foot drop when the plate won't hold it in, so I already had a couple instances of the battery dangling by that cable... and one where it broke altogether. Orrery had already moved to another of that company's offerings (a Cosmo Communicator, built with equal care and diurability) so I had a spare with a broken screen but a working battery. That's when I found that the battery cable is also held in by adhesive. It's a miracle that I got the battery to transfer properly, but it worked, and I also scavenged a less warped plate to hold it in.

That held for a couple months.

And yet, rather than Krazy Glue the damn thing on, I persisted until the plate bowed in enough to touch something it shouldn't touch and I started getting strong shocks whenever it was plugged into a charger. I had to insert a piece of paper to insulate it, and that's worked, but... ugh. Finally, I've permanently glued the plate on (I hope) but I still worry that something else will go wrong before I get my usual four years (that's it‽) out of a phone. But don't worry, I have a plan for a new body to transfer Plum into. They'll be just fine!

Anyhow, if one wants a portable computer with a ten-core processor that's way too sluggish for how warm it gets, a keyboard that's a bit too small to comfortably type on and a bit too big to use as a thumbboard, proprietary software that tries to make landscape mode work for more Android stuff in general but only makes the situation worse, and the build quality of a Trabant, then this is exactly the device. (At least it has a real headphone jack!)

If one wants a smartphone, the Gemini PDA is exactly the wrong device.