There's an Underwood typewriter
Lying dusty, near the door,
There's a box of carbon paper, thrown away!
There's a hand cranked pencil sharpener
Near the waste bin, on the floor,
And a Rolodex that's seen a better day.
There's no need to file the memos
In a filing drawer today,
Though hard copy's sent out daily in the post;
Now the files are all computerized,
There's e-mail for the notes,
And it's FAX that we communicate with most!
Now, we put it on the hard drive,
That's what we all do,
We don't fill drawers with pages full of typing.
We click on FILE, then SAVE AS,
So it's always close at hand,
And we're done with all the searching and the griping!
The computer makes it easier
To keep up with the work;
The bosses take their lap-tops on their trips,
And instead of making phone calls to the office every day,
They have the office at their finger tips!
But there's still a lot of office chores
The computer cannot do,
Though it's true it never asks for coffee breaks;
It won't stand around the water cooler,
Beefing at the boss,
And it won't correct the faux-pas that it makes!
Jobs like that remain the duty
Of the ones who kept their jobs,
And they still do all the typing for the beast,
For the fingers on the keyboard
Keep the entries up to date,
And the steno's still the one who's paid the least!
Don Mulford