fred and George

From kindergarten, I'd rush home
To eat my lunch and watch TV.
Then, sitting in the den alone,
Staring and munching absently.

My screen time hour would commence
With laughs as my pals got in trouble.
Arguments cross the rocky fence
Of F. Flintstone and B. Rubble.

Wilma and Betty would conspire
To teach the guys a thing or two.
Situations all seemed dire
Til the cry, "yabba dabba doo!"

Then to the future I arrive,
The time I've longed for all my life.
For robot maids and cars that fly,
Like George Jetson and Jane, his wife.

Someday, I'd talk to my mother
Through a wrist watch showing her face,
And quiet My bratty brother
With just a click, he'd be in space.

Long gone those days of cartoon bliss,
Oh, but how I remember when
Those simple days are fondly missed:
Prehistoric and space-aged Zen