tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734950473572563387.post9006410739363066104..comments2024-03-26T20:19:38.941+11:00Comments on Bytes: The Remember PoemBytesMasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07718030608633754512noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734950473572563387.post-12213092618181718642014-02-04T00:28:34.983+11:002014-02-04T00:28:34.983+11:00We shall grow old together, Philip, we shall sit o...We shall grow old together, Philip, we shall sit on the porch and reminisce about things remembered from our childhoods long ago . . .BytesMasterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07718030608633754512noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734950473572563387.post-4549827792292824862014-02-03T08:26:43.503+11:002014-02-03T08:26:43.503+11:00Hi Otto,
Your nostalgic poem made me feel old bec...Hi Otto,<br /><br />Your nostalgic poem made me feel old because I did not need to read your comments to understand any of the terms. However my mother (now 87) use to proudly boast that my father could not stop her having a career, and she worked for many years.<br /><br />Your poem also reminded me of a "dirty ditty" we learnt as children which went something like:<br /><br />The night was dark, <br />The sky was blue, <br />Down the alley the turd wagon flew! <br />A bump was hit, a scream was heard, <br />A man was killed by a flying turd! <br />Upon his tomb was plainly writ: <br />This Man Was Killed by Flying Shit!<br /><br />(Confession: I had to look this up online to recapture all the words.)<br /><br />All the best<br />PhilipPhilip Chttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12584044215640556776noreply@blogger.com