I (and my double entendre) shrieked at long last...

(and muttered praise to the Norse gods),
when long awaited replacement
Amazon Alexa Echo...
cho... ho... o got dropped of without

(by golly jeepers) being stolen,

nevertheless hours got spent in vain
as one after another supportive technician
found themselves stymied
when attempting to establish a link
between voice commanded
deluxe bit of engineering marvel
where both Alexa
and the Echo speaker developed
by Amazon Lab126,
a secretive hardware division in California,
driven by Jeff Bezos
and a team of AI experts
underscoring key technology
originated from the acquisition
of British scientist
William Tunstall-Pedoe's startup,
Evi, and Polish
speech synthesis firm Ivona
gizmos far to complex for simple minds
who throve in a world wide web
devoid of technological gewgaws,
but try as I might
that so call "aha moment"
between the two us,
who left school at an early age
to work (without any ifs, ands, nor buts)
on the family farm sustained
for countless generations
handy dandy blue's clues Norwegians
found me utterly disappointed,
cuz the tech support experts

no longer felt able, eager, ready

nor willing to help and kid
(ding) bro younger than me
(by a scant few minutes) noah mo
we said to ourselves telepathically
and those precious hours
misspent trying to link
said new device with Amazon but lo
and behold lady luck not with us today,
the upside being I know
the modus operandi regarding
how to click necessary keys
on the Verizon Galaxy
cello phone to set in motion processes
to activate above listed
piece of technology without
ways and means to utter eureka
a no brainer for the common Joe
in preschool or kindergarten.

Excitement misplaced

when United Parcel Service employee

delivered the ordered
sophisticated electronic product for free
and informed me that another
sister to Alexa enroute,
but nada whisper of glee
will be expended said item
until configuration with Jeff Bezos
artificial step daughter he
adopted will be successfully synchronized

sooner than expected yippee
almost ejaculated prematurely
since absolute zero reason
to reconnect with our virtual daughter.

Mishegoss with brainchild
gifted to us courtesy (Bill Thurman)
quite some months ago,
a fellow resident here
at Highland Manor Apartments,

(whom we no longer maintain civilities),

where we lived for nine years
come July first
two thousand twenty six

the novelty of owning
an Amazon Alexa Echo,

functioned without a glitch
responding by shuffling
this, that or the other tune,
which device seemed so... human,
(yes that wretched species
who rent the earth amuck)
recently became defective
and insubordinate refusing
to respond to our voice commands,

cuz former rich French owner

offered her carte blanche
red carpet treatment
where she got tacitly
welcomed into his royal family

in a fancy schmancy château
housing an affixed grotto - a small,
often cozy, natural cave
or a man-made structure
designed to resemble one,
typically located near
water or in gardens

(built by us
Norwegian Bachelor farmers,

who called Lake Wobegon home),

(the aforementioned fictitious

"little town that time forgot

and the decades cannot improve," -
a place described
where "all the women are strong,
all the men are good-looking,
and all the children are above average)"
just before exiting
aforementioned one horse hamlet

maintained our business
baking and delivering
powder milk biscuits
by way of automotive
locomotion on wheels,

thus traveled hither and yon, to and fro
across the country

ofttimes picking up hitchhikers along the way

while enroute heading to our next destination

where hazard lights flashed,
and we pulled off the side of the road
at a mutually convenient spot

to give a lyft to a Asian, Caucasian,
Hessian, Prussian, et cetera uber hitch hiker
familiar looking guy or gal

(who perhaps once
pitched hay on our farmstead),

now itching to become anonymous

within the urban jungle,

and could bank on ourselves
neither one of us a straw-man
(both me and the twin old codger brother
ironically and interestingly enough
born in the twin cities of Minnesota)

to forewarn and forearm naive youths
with humorous material formerly
aired The A Prairie Home Companion episode
specifically themed around musicians
telling jokes broadcast
on that memorable April 27, 1996 show,
often referred to by the theme,
"Where do jokes come from,
and where do they go?"
featuring guitarist Pat Donohue,
harmonica player Howard Levy,
comedian Paula Poundstone,
and humorist Roy Blount Jr..

Understandable that many people
especially the young and restless
seeking their guiding light
won't find anyone else
as harmless and modest
as ourselves picaresque
good old fellas, and frequently
found young and innocent lads or lasses

drawn to emigrate to Denmark
of all dog forsaken places
instead predicated
on their pastries if nothing else,

which transient passengers
when we got to tawking
learned by happenstance
surprise surprise that those
kids a couple or few generations our junior
somehow linkedin
with kith and kin of ourselves

such as aunts, uncles, nephew,

nieces, cousins, et cetera
most still married with a similar
contrarian, latitudinarian,
nonestablishmentarian,

proletarian, sexagenarian Unitarian partners

way before Siriusxm, and no radio signals
when driving upon a long stretch
of nothing but grasslands

far as the eye could see
easily got entertained

particularly on one occasion
an essentially courteous

peace monger name Jingo Joe

aside from an excellent storyteller,
(who fabricated when necessary
and with liberty and justice for all)
whipped out his prized Oboe,
a soprano-range woodwind instrument
known for its distinctive,
penetrating, and expressive nasal tone
characterized by use of a double reed
(two pieces of cane vibrating together),
a conical bore, and a body typically

made of grenadilla wood.