March 12th…….”DID YOU HAVE RADIOS ON YOUR FARM IN MINNESOTA”?
POEM – “Mister Transistor Resistor” by N. Elliott Noorlun

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,

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.

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.

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!