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Cool as an iceberg, Cool as could be. My Grandma Ruth Was even cooler than me! Gran lifted weights-- Was smart, of course. And rode a Harley That she called Horse.
At home on go-karts Or racing on skis, Gran swam with the sharks In the deep, deep seas. On her seventieth birthday She learnt how to fly. I thought there was nothing That she wouldn't try But then I stayed with Gran For one whole week. When she saw my computer She started to freak.
"Want to play a game, Or maybe two?" I said. "No way!" she replied, With a shake of the head.
"Want to send an email then? To Uncle Steve or Auntie Deb. Or go exploring for an hour or so As you surf the World Wide Web?"
"Not interested," sniffed Gran. "Not at all-- not a bit. If you play with computers You're a big droopy drip!" She disliked all talk Of links and bytes. While the thought of emails Gave her the frights. And as long as I live I'll never forget How she almost exploded When I mentioned the Net.
"The Net!" she growled. "The Net!" she scowled. "Oh how I loathe the Net!" she howled.
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