Our neighbors we beat to be first in the street
to have an antennae erected.
High on our roof stood proudly the proof
of a brand new TV, they suspected.
‘Twas an HMV with movies to see
on twenty one inches of screen.
My family was glued to this new fangled tube
And the neighbors’ envy was green.
In shillings and pounds, it cost around
200 guineas, in fact..
20 week’s wages, that seemed like ages
and money was something we lacked.
Our neighbor that day bought a brand new FJ
A thousand quid’s worth of car
But His Master’s Voice remained our choice
And outshone the Holden by far.
I was just a boy when we got our new toy
in nineteen fifty six.
12 years old, couldn’t be told
A kid up to his usual tricks.
Marshall Matt Dillon tracked down the villain
in one of my favs, Gunsmoke.
Hugh O’Brian, another hero of mine
played that Wyatt Earp bloke.
Dennis Weaver, Leave it to Beaver
So many names to recall.
But I’d even sit ‘n’ watch the pattern
That tested the reception and all.
Lucille Ball, I remember them all
People like Dick Van Dyke
Jackie Gleason ran many a season
Bonanza, Cheyenne and the like.
Each day after five, my dad would arrive
And on would go the TV.
We ate our supper washed down with a cuppa
In front of the HMV.
It was ’64 when the singing fab four
landed at Kingsford Smith.
We watched it live, as the Beatles arrived
And reality overtook myth.
A few years later it was even greater
One small step for a man…
Apollo Eleven had conquered the heavens
As Galileo had planned.
Through laughter and tears, for 21 years
We watched that old TV
Plain black and white, but that was alright
What a priceless memory.
You can see me reading my own poetry (if you’re silly enough) on my Youtube channel
Fond memories of the ’50s.