From: Jeff Conrad (jeffc@ernstbrothers.com)
Subject: An Access Holiday Story

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the
house. Not a creature was stirring, not even an Access
Developer. The stockings were hung by the chimney with
care, in hopes that St. Vinson soon would be there. The
children were nestled all snug in their beds, while
visions of add-ins, utilities, and service packs danced in
their heads.

And Mama in her ‘Access Rocks’ shirt and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long ‘waiting for it to
compile’ nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a
clatter, I sprang from my desk chair to see what was the
matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open
the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave
the lustre of midday to my databases below. When what to
my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh,
and eight tiny DB developers! With a little old driver, so
lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Vinson.

More rapid than FoxPro his courses they came, and he
whistled and shouted, and called them by name; Now Arvin!
Now Stephen! Now Bruce and Dan! On Hugh! On Sandra! On
Dirk and Van! To the top of the porch! To the top of the
wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up
to the housetop the courses they flew, with the sleigh
full of Access goodies, and St. Vinson, too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof the
prancing and pawing of each little foot. As I drew in my
head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Vinson
came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A
bundle of ODEs he had flung on his back, and he looked
like a pedlar just opening his pack. His eyes how they
twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like
roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and
the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump
of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it
encircled his head like a wreath. He had a ‘Got Access?’
shirt and a little round belly that shook when he laughed,
like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf. And I
laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his
eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had
nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight
to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned
with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a
nod, up to the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh,
to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like
the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he
drove out of sight, ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a
good night!’

From my family to yours, may you all have a safe and
blessed Christmas holiday!
Jeff Conrad
Bend, Oregon

Click here to see the original Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem

Author:   Zaphod
Email: David_Powell@zaphod.freeserve.co.spamlessuk

The Night Before Christmas (New version)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa’s mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did his last-minute Internet shopping.

The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.

Dark Forces for Billy, and Doom II for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
And all the letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

But the letters were re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa’s workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new digs in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a rich billionaire,

With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that’s just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion.

The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or little toy drums
Because under the tree, there are only CD ROMS
So boys and girls, spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Windows 95.

More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
“Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,

It is Microsoft’s SANTA that the kids can’t resist,
It’s the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.
Get ‘em young, keep ‘em long, is Microsoft’s scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer’s dream.

To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away – wow!”
And Mama in her ‘kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whirr and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.

As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.

And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.

Click here to see the original Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem