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Y2K is coming

Oh, For The Simpler Times Y2K is coming Written: by Tom Wright 2000 I eagerly watch, as darkness gives way to dawn; as preening birds begin to stir. I sip hot coffee, stretch and yawn, and lament that things aren't as they were. The calendar just recently turned one day, many thought this to be man's timely end. Finally arriving, Y2-K, with numerous problems, that only God, can mend. But alas, I sit and ponder now, how strange, I'm told things must be different in Y2-K, you see, and everywhere I go there's talk of change, while I prefer some things remain, just as they used to be. Now I don't wish to seem too old fashioned, and shant let Satan put his trash inside my head. Nor will I store up things, should they be rationed, for no true Child of God shall beg for bread. I'm told each day, the internet, is the place I need to be, while I fend off offers to remain the relic that I am, others make Billions, selling access to those unlike me, and many are taken in, by things that are but a scam. We now have phones not merely used for talking, being worn on belts at Church, perhaps to impress. It's bells and whistles, spare their fingers walking, with colored, changeable covers, matching shirt or dress. The songs we sing at Church, I'm told are dated, as we discuss large screens, up on the wall. This mere discussion apparently has some elated, for then words to our new songs could be seen by all. Parents comment of teen attendance on the wane, and discuss one who might lure with time and voice. I sit and squirm, wondering is any among us yet sane, and why Godly parents give their teen an attendance choice. Now, opening the morning paper in bold letters I see, a proposed tax, on burgers and other tasty morsels, sold high in fats, and again I'm told, they'll do what's best for me, as my mind races, thinking, just what I need, helpful bureaucrats. By now, you surely think, for poor old Tom there's little hope, He'd better exit his soap box and get himself a life. It appears he's on the precipice of life's slippery slope, the last straw would be to learn-- that he's a "Techie" for a wife. Booooooooooooy, do I feel great now! Just last month my neighbor told me to cheer up, it could get worse. He must be some kind of prophet, for I cheered up, and sure enough, It's gotten worse. This has been an attempt at a little low tech humor. but it too, may be too old fashioned. Tom

Copyright © Tom Wright

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