It's time again for TechMan's traditional (it's the second year) Christmas poem, with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore. The tech references have been updated.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was tweeting, not even a spouse.
The Crocs were hung by the heat pump with care,
In hopes that St. Techolas soon would be there.
The rug rats were nestled all snug in their futons,
While several iPods wiggled their icons
And mamma in her Snuggie, and I in my bed,
Dreamed of a network map covered in red.
When out on the driveway, there arose such a clatter,
Like my hard drive's head had crashed on the platter.
To the window I flew as fast as light,
Tore open the shutters to see such a sight
The LED lights on the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of Vegas to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a remote-control sleigh, and eight robotic reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Tech.
More rapid than Firewire his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
"Now, Hulu! Now, eBay now, iPhone and Flickr
On, Comcast! On, Facebook! On, Google and Twitter!
To the top of the stack! To the top of the firewall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the leafblower fly,
When they meet with a leaf bag, they mount to the sky.
So up to the TV dish his coursers did fly,
And cut off my DVR recording of "CSI."
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The clicking and clacking of each metallic hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney he came in what seemed like surround sound.
He was dressed all in Spandex, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of gadgets he had flung on his back,
And he smiled like Steve Jobs when he unveils a new Mac.
His eyes were round washers, how they twinkled with glee,
He looked like a Mii I made on my Wii!
His droll little mouth was made all of bolts,
And was puckered as though he were sipping up volts.
An HDMI cable he held tight in his teeth,
And wires they encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a belly so great,
That shook when he laughed, like a cellphone on vibrate!
He was chubby and plump, a real Burl Ives clone,
I laughed when I saw him, and took a snapshot with my phone!
A twist of his head and a chuckle so fine
Soon gave me to know he bought all his stuff online.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the Crocs, then turned with a jerk.
And rubbing his fingers with lots of Purell,
He gobbled all the cookies as crumbs 'round him fell!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team sent an e-mail,
And away they all flew like escaping from jail.
But I heard him exclaim, the jolly old recluse,
"Happy Christmas to all, charge nine hours before use."
Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09354/1022072-96.stm#ixzz0aWidjxOC