Vol.2..Norwegian Farmer’s Son..March 12th


POEM – “Mister Transistor Resistor” by N. Elliott Noorlun

Elliott is on the right, next to his big brother Lowell.

I was Mister Transistor Resistor,

But only really because,

My pockets were lined, With air that I’d find,

But no money, And nothing but fuzz,

These tiny radios were like magic to Elliott. No cord and plug needed. You could take them anywhere!!

It took big money to buy, What this little guy,

Saw as fun, And the latest craze,

Of radio magic, That was wild and not tragic,

That music box had caught all our gaze.

Fifty dollars, in 1954, is equivalent to $485 today. Pretty high price radio, in its day.

Just imagine a radio, Not connected to wall,

With no cord and no plug, No none, not at all.

It could go anywhere, You wanted to stray

And was easy to lug, In every fun way.

Elliott enjoyed singing along to many a song while walking around their family farm.

You could listen to sports, Play and do anything,

Tunes from tiny radio, To which you could sing!!

Born in ’54, The same year as me,

It was such a welcome design,

From those radios of old, So big and so bold,

For our parents, That may have been fine.

But for my generation, There was such an elation,

To be able to take music along,

To the beach or to mountain, There was now a fun fountain,

Of our portable radio song!


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