Old Timers Poem

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 night.

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-inch 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 pocketknife.

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 pen and paper,

And the memory in my head.

None have died in computer crashes.

But afterwards, they wish they were dead!