The World I Never Got to Meet
(Verse 1)
My grandma had a toaster that could qualify for Medicare,
A washing machine that never needed software anywhere.
One refrigerator, thirty-one long years,
Never crashed, never beeped, never asked, "Do you accept these terms right here?"
It kept the milk cold through Nixon,
Still humming under Reagan too.
Never needed Wi-Fi passwords...
It just did what refrigerators do.
(Pre-Chorus)
Now every gadget's got opinions,
Every light bulb wants to chat.
I'm just trying to make some toast...
Why's my toaster asking where I'm at?
(Chorus)
I miss the world I never got to meet,
Where things stayed broken... or they stayed complete.
Where a phone was just a phone,
And folks could leave you alone.
Now everything updates while I'm asleep...
I miss the world I never got to meet.
(Verse 2)
Mom and Dad bought a "smart fridge," that's the latest thing they said.
It's got a camera, apps and weather... and forgot to keep ice instead.
One day the screen froze solid,
The freezer staged a strike.
Apparently the cloud was down...
So the fridge declared, "No ice tonight."
Grandma's fridge survived six presidents,
Never once complained.
This one didn't outlast two Christmases...
But somehow that's called "upgraded."
(Chorus)
I miss the world I never got to meet,
Where a hammer never needed Bluetooth to hit a nail complete.
Now my coffee maker's thinking,
While my patience keeps on shrinking.
Everything's connected... except to common sense, it seems.
(Bridge)
Remember paper menus?
Big enough to catch a sneeze.
A waitress smiled and asked you,
"Honey... coffee with your peas?"
Now I scan a little square,
Then wait for pages just to load.
To order onion rings...
I need a password and a code.
Some executive got promoted
For this brilliant modern plan:
"What if mozzarella sticks require...
An online user scan?"
(Instrumental Break)
(Verse 3)
My thermostat updates daily,
My vacuum maps the floor.
My toothbrush wants analytics...
My socks'll probably ask for more.
The car reminds me every hour
Its warranty expires soon.
The microwave has eighty buttons...
I just wanted hot soup by noon.
Even my mailbox sends me emails,
My watch critiques my sleep.
I'm waiting for my toilet
To suggest a monthly fee.
(Final Chorus)
I miss the world I never got to meet,
Where common sense and simple things were hard to beat.
Where appliances grew old,
Instead of doing what they're told.
Where "plug it in" was all you had to read.
Give me paper maps and paper menus,
Give me radios with dials.
Give me refrigerators built to outlive me...
Instead of monthly files.
(Outro)
If my grandkids ask someday,
"What was life like back in your day?"
I'll smile and say...
"We had smart everything...
...and dumb ideas."
Now if you'll excuse me...
I have to reboot my refrigerator...
So it can remember...
How to make ice.