A Poem for Those Over Thirty
A computer was something on TV
From a science-fiction show of note
A window was something you hated to clean
And ram was the cousin of a goat
Meg was the name of my girlfriend
And gig was a job for the nights
Now they all mean different things
And that really mega bytes.
An application was for employment
A program was a TV show
A cursor used profanity
A keyboard was a piano.
Memory was something that you lost with age
A CD was a bank account
And if you had a 3-in. floppy
You hoped nobody found out.
Compress was something you did to the garbage
Not something you did to a file
And if you unzipped anything in public
You'd be in jail for a while.
Log on was adding wood to the fire
Hard drive was a long trip on the road
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived
And a backup happened to your commode.
Cut you did with a pocket knife
Paste you did with glue
A web was a spider's home
And a virus was the flu.
I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper
And the memory in my head
I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash
But when it happens they wish they were dead.
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a camping trip.
As they lay down for the night, Holmes said, "Watson, look
up into the sky and tell me what you see."
Watson said, "I see millions and millions of stars."
"And what does that tell you?"
"Astronomically," Watson replied, "it tells me that there are
millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets.
Theologically, it tells me that God is great and that we are small
and insignificant.
Meteorologically, it tells me that we will have a beautiful day
tomorrow.
What does it tell you, Sherlock?"
"Somebody stole our tent."