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Retirement of a Dear Old Friend

A dear old friend of mine of many years was retired the other day. In many ways I'll miss my pal more than words can say! Alas, there was no longer need for him and his upper and lower case Since the computer is now all the rage - he is gone without a trace! I speak of my trusty IBM Selectric upon which I used to hunt and peck. Now, I rely solely on my computer - frankly, 'tis a pain in the neck! 'Twas some comfort knowing that if my Selectric went on the fritz, That I didn't have to call some "expert" in Mongolia when it gave me fits! In his elder years his parts began to show some wear and tear, And since the dear old chap hardly qualified for medicare, 'Twas getting difficult to find a typewriter doc for his repair. After all, he and his elderly peers are becoming rather rare! It was with some remorse that I consigned him to the Goodwill Store, Hoping some less technological soul would give him life once more. Now 'tis just this puzzling 'puter and me for which I have little affection! (My monitor screen is becoming so blurred using whiteout for correction!) Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 12/12/2010 1:28:00 PM
Technology, my friend. Great tribute. Enjoyed. Ralphie
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Date: 12/10/2010 3:44:00 PM
Cute..Enjoyed the chuckle..Laughter the best medicine..I am glad that I chose this one to read this eve..Sara
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Date: 12/9/2010 4:20:00 PM
Oh yes Bob ... more new technology every day and the things that were once new ..now old.. a great way to phrase it all in this poem and we must put certain 'toys' to rest in order to play with new ones... computers everywhere ... whatever did we do without them.. or cell phones.. or blackberrys ... we will never know luv.. a great tribute to your once new friend..
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Date: 12/9/2010 11:20:00 AM
Your angst for the computer age is well taken, Bob, and many of us old-timers can relate to this. I learned to type on Dad's old Underwood -- not even electric, manual. Now it's back at my house, an antique in perfect working order. When the keys get tangled or the ribbon gets loose, I can fix it myself. There's something to be said for simplicity. Great poem, my friend! Love, Carolyn
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Book: Shattered Sighs