And yet, here we are over a century later, and that exact same design is on cars, trucks, trains, boats, and airplanes all over the world.
We build our cars with laser beams,
With GPS and heated seams,
With AI brains that park and steer,
And sensors are checking out the rear.
We’ve got Bluetooth and Wi-Fi streams,
And cup holders beyond our dreams!
But when the sky begins to spit,
Does software help us see a bit?
No! We rely on ancient tech,
To keep us from a rainy wreck.
A swinging stick! A floppy blade!
The finest tool that’s ever stayed.
Miss Mary built it long ago,
To wipe away the sleet and snow,
And engineers just scratched their heads,
"Well... guess we're done with that," they said.
Since nineteen-three, it hasn’t changed,
While the whole world got rearranged.
It goes swish-swash, it goes ka-thump,
It wipes away the pigeon dump.
It slaps the glass, it does its best,
It passes every tempest test.
But if the windshield's slightly dry?
It lets out an ungodly cry!
SQUEEEAK-SQUAWK-SQUEEEAK!
So raise a glass to rubber arms,
Still saving us from the weather's harm.
No microchips, no charging wire,
Just flapping wildly past the tire!