Ode to Old Technology

Ah, the transistor radio. How do I appreciate thee?

O midget spawn of vacuum tube,
Let me enumerate thy good.

I love thee for thy simple ways,
For "Classical" and "Bluegrass" days.

I love thee in the gloom of night
When "Big Band" tunes make all things right.

But mostly I doth love, because,
(despite moments of awkward fuzz)

Your lofty goal is but to please,
Unlike computers, who would freeze.

Your cost is most affordable,
And yet, you are so portable.

You have no need for motherboard,
Or hook-up to that "rogue," untoward.

That vile and torturous, vilainous cad,
(and may I say, "He's very bad.")
That beast which far from making glad,
Doth seek each day to drive "Ma" mad.

Despite the technologic perks,
Where complicated parts do lurk,

Just give me simple stuff, that works!
(Or you may see "Ma" go berserk.)

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