Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
lights flashed on the tower and even the mouse.
The Webcams were ready, installed with great care.
In hopes that grandkids would be virtually there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads;
Mamma in her rocker, a netbook on her lap.
To check Santa’s route on Norads’ tracking map.
Last minute shopping, I knew it would matter,
Receipts from the printer were spit with a clatter.
The e-mail program began to beep and flash,
Away to the desktop I flew in a dash,
An e-mail from Santa, I pulled from the cache.
The sleigh was loaded, the springs sitting low
Boxes of computer games, only kids know.
Dead Space II for Tommy, Pokemon for Sue,
Xbox, Wii, Playstation and Nintendo too.
Neither Mamma nor I had Santa forgot,
A wireless keyboard and mouse in the lot.
From a webcam mounted some far away place
An image so small, across the screen it did race.
What could it be I wondered, what would appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
I toggled the volume and turned it up loud
As his digital facade flew over the clouds
At the speed of Moore’s law his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dell! Now, Gates! Now, Jobs and Wosniak!
On, Bezos! On Ellison! On, Hewlett and Packard!
To the top of the toolbar! The top of the screen!
Now pixels are changing, amazed by it all!
The picture expanded as closer he drew
His exact location surely only he knew.
But Google Street view offered a hopeful clue.
Just a click of the mouse, our house was in view.
With the sleigh full of downloads, upgrades and such
St. Nicholas too, might it be just too much?
The broadband was humming the router secure
A shiny new computer I’m sure will allure
Firewalls open for the jolly red elf.
Presents are coming, surely some for myself.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
A mystery for sure I pondered aloud.
Could Santa be real an answer I vowed.
An Internet search for the jolly St. Nick
“Santa Claus: could he be real” should turn the trick
Pages and pages of results did appear
To read them all might take ‘til Christmas next year.
My eyelids grew heavy then started to droop,
A short nap was needed so I could regroup.
Foggy and confused from my slumber I stirred,
“You’ve got mail,” from the speakers I heard.
An e-mail from Santa’s own smartphone it said,
A tight schedule barred his waking me he pled.
Presents for all under the tree he had spread.
Click here for a live video feed of the sled.
The digital image danced and sparkled bright.
Santa driving his sleigh on its magical flight.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
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Grumbles From The Keyboard: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love My Computer: Courtland Nederveld: 9781467985895: BooksSanta endorsed! See his comments Here.
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