'Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,
'Twas the night before release and all through the house,
'Twas the night before crisis, and all through the house,
T'was the night before Christmas and all over town,
not a program was working, not even a mouse.
The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
with hopes that a miracle would soon be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out on the scope, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a super programmer (with a six-pack of Root-Beer)
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name
On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!
On Batch Jobs! On Closing! On Functions Complete!
His eyes were glazed over, finger nimble and lean,
from weekends and nights in front of a screen.
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,
Turning Specs into code; then turned with a jerk;
And laying his finger upon the "RUN" key,
The system came up and worked perfectly.
The Updates updated; The deletes, they deleted;
The inquires inquired, and closing completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell
with nary an append, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
the client's last changes were even included.
And the client exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"
Not a program was working, not even a browse.
The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
With hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out in the machine room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a super programmer (with a six-pack of beer).
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
He turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
And he cursed and muttered and called them by name.
On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!
On Batch Jobs! On Closing! On Functions Complete!
His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
From weekends and nites in front of a screen.
A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
The system came up and worked perfectly.
The updates updated; the deletes, they deleted;
The inquiries inquired, and closings completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,
With nary a bomb, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
The users' last changes were even included.
And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"
Not a program was working, not even a browse.
The programmers were wrung out, too mindless to care,
Knowing chances of cut-over hadn't a prayer.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out in the lobby there arose such a clatter,
That I sprang from my tube to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Super Programmer, oblivious to fear.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!
On Batch Jobs! On Closing! On Functions Complete!
His eyes were glazed over, his fingers were lean,
From weekends and nights in front of a screen.
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,
Turning specs into code, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger on the ENTER key,
The system came up, and worked perfectly.
The updated, updated; the deleted, they deleted;
The inquiries, inquired; and the closing completed.
He tested each whistle, he tested each bell,
with nary an abend, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
The clients last changes were even included.
And the client exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but it's not what I want."
the screens were all blank, the PC's were down.
The hackers were all snuggled deep in their beds,
while graphics of computer games danced in their heads.
Mom and I, without making a peep,
were all settled down for a long winter's sleep.
When from my modem there came such a clatter,
I jumped from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the console, I flew like a whisk,
signed on to the net with my BBS disk.
My PC on line had a screen full of snow,
with red and green LEDS from the modem below.
When what on the color screen did appear,
but a tiny sled and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little red driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a flash, it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than glitches, his coursers they came,
He whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Apple, Atari, Amiga and CoCo,
on Mac and Morrow and Tandy and Sanyo.
Up to the top of the screen they flew,
with the sled full of disks and St. Nicholas, too.
Then in a twinkle I heard on the roof,
the dancing and prancing of each little hoof.
The graphics changed as I was turning around.
Then down the chimney he came with a bound.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
He seemed sure of himself in his Yuletide venture,
Like a character right out of a game of Adventure.
He set up his portable quick as a Fox
and uploaded software in hundreds of blocks.
He spoke not a word in his session of work,
then closed his computer and turned with a jerk.
Laying his finger beside his nose,
he gave a nod and to the top of the screen he rose.
He sprang to his sled, to his team, gave a whistle
and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I read the caption before he faded from sight.
Merry Christmas To All, and To All a Good Night!