Post by Motown Scrapper on Jan 30, 2008 19:19:39 GMT -5
Oh when I was a boy, my Nintendo
Was carved from an old apple tree
And we used garden hose to connect it
To our steam powered color TV.
But it sure beat that ancient Atari
‘Cause I almost went blind don’t you know
Playing Breakout and Pong on a video game
That hooked up to our radio.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when Fortran was not even three tran
And the main frame was only a toy
And we did our computing by gas light
Back when I was a boy.
Oh when I was a boy, all our networks
Were for hauling in fish from the sea.
Our baud rate was 8 bits an hour (she was worth it)
And our IP address was just three.
All you kids who think that the world wide web is slow
Ought to cut out your pregnant doging
‘Cause when I was a boy every packet
Was delivered by passenger pigeon.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when fortan was not even two tran
And the PC was only a toy.
And we did our computing by torchlight
When I was a boy.
Oh when I was a boy, our finest shops
Built relational tables out of wood.
And we wrappered our data in oil cloth
to preserve it the way that we that should.
And we carried our bits in a bucket.
And our main frame weighed 900 tons.
And we programmed in ones and in zeroes
And sometimes we ran out of ones.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when fortran was not even one tran
And the abacus ‘ha’ only a toy
And we did our computing in primordial darkness
Back when I was a boy.
Was carved from an old apple tree
And we used garden hose to connect it
To our steam powered color TV.
But it sure beat that ancient Atari
‘Cause I almost went blind don’t you know
Playing Breakout and Pong on a video game
That hooked up to our radio.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when Fortran was not even three tran
And the main frame was only a toy
And we did our computing by gas light
Back when I was a boy.
Oh when I was a boy, all our networks
Were for hauling in fish from the sea.
Our baud rate was 8 bits an hour (she was worth it)
And our IP address was just three.
All you kids who think that the world wide web is slow
Ought to cut out your pregnant doging
‘Cause when I was a boy every packet
Was delivered by passenger pigeon.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when fortan was not even two tran
And the PC was only a toy.
And we did our computing by torchlight
When I was a boy.
Oh when I was a boy, our finest shops
Built relational tables out of wood.
And we wrappered our data in oil cloth
to preserve it the way that we that should.
And we carried our bits in a bucket.
And our main frame weighed 900 tons.
And we programmed in ones and in zeroes
And sometimes we ran out of ones.
And we walked 20 miles to the school house,
Barefoot and uphill both ways.
Through blizzards in summer and winter
Back in the good old days.
That’s when fortran was not even one tran
And the abacus ‘ha’ only a toy
And we did our computing in primordial darkness
Back when I was a boy.
