Hi, Linn--

I enjoyed it, too--& couldn't help catching your name as I sit freezing
in the office at Kent House the day after Christmas--I'm the new
"Executive Director," and still come across your name in files.  Where
are you now?

Carolyn Breedlove
[log in to unmask]

rgvmuse wrote:

> Staff's greeting visitors, selling last minute gifts,
> The cold winds are whistiling, pushing snow into drifts.
> I'm the Director, and, yes, I'm working, too,
> Time's really fleeting - there's so much to do.
> I was phoning, e-mailing (though not entering data)
> When my spirits were lifted by Greg's "cyber Santa".
> So here's now my wishing, to all and to each:
> Good holidays, happiness and, most of all, peace.
>
> Linn Keller
>
> Greg Koos wrote:
>
> > >A Little Byte Music
> > >(Virtual St. Entropy, IX)
> > >
> > >'Twas the night before Christmas, the season of wonder:
> > >Not a creature was stirring throughout the rotunda.
> > >Far up in the museum, I was feeling *non grata*,
> > >Facing my computer and mountains of data.
> > >
> > >The director had called me and ordered in haste:
> > >"All of the data must, pronto, be based!"
> > >So alone I keyboarded, in lab coat and cap,
> > >Wishing I'd time for a long winter's nap.
> > >
> > >The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
> > >(At least, on my web page, they were virtually there,
> > >As was the chimney, as was the heat.
> > >A trick of programming, and that's no mean feat)
> > >
> > >When all of a sudden, there arose such a clatter
> > >I opened up Windows, hit ALT-DEL-GRAYMATTER.
> > >The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
> > >Looked almost too real to be pixels aglow.
> > >
> > >When what to my poor red-rimmed eyes filled the screen
> > >But a miniature sleigh that could scarcely be seen.
> > >With a small animation so jerky and faint
> > >I knew it was Nick, the old holiday Saint.
> > >
> > >More rapid than email his coursers they came,
> > >While he gestured (no sound card) and called each by name:
> > >"On Fortran*!  On SELGEM*!  On Taxir* and Cobal*!
> > >On C+*, on FOCUS*, we're here to a-MUSE* all!"
> > >
> > >I tried fast to exit (I could run but not hide!),
> > >When down the virtual chimney St. Nick did slide.
> > >
> > >He was dressed all in red with a boot and reboot;
> > >He spoke not (no sound card) but went straight to his loot.
> > >From his bag he drew punch cards, a disc like a platter,
> > >And an amber-screened monitor with keyboard that clattered.
> > >
> > >With his 1200 bps modem and those floppy discs
> > >I knew I was looking at Second Hand Nick's.
> > >And his programming language, so much yadda-yadda
> > >I knew if I used it I'd database >nada.<
> > >
> > >"I can't use these," I whimpered, "they're not worth my per diem."
> > >He looked up and mouthed "Well, this IS a museum!"
> > >"Please, Santa," I pleaded, "I need automation,
> > >How else can I process all this information?"
> > >
> > >"Not to worry," shrugged Santa, "no need to panic,
> > >It's simply a question of applied informatics!"
> > >And then, as I watched, both stunned and elated,
> > >Like DNA my data were all replicated.
> > >
> > >Instead of data entry for many long nights
> > >Santa soon filled my hard drive with millions of bytes.
> > >I knew my director would love it, of course,
> > >He coveted data, whatever the source.
> > >
> > >I leaped to my keyboard to do a report
> > >But the whole program crashed with a sudden retort.
> > >The hardware was outdated, the software was fried
> > >The monitor was flashing "Access Denied."
> > >Of all of the data that Santa bestowed,
> > >There wasn't a bit of it I could download.
> > >
> > >Then laying a finger inside of his nose
> > >Old Nick sneezed as up the virtual chimney he rose.
> > >He leaped to his sleigh, to his team gave a chuckle
> > >And then they were gone--boot, belt, and buckle.
> > >But I heard him exclaim, not without aplomb,
> > >"Merry Christmas to all--from Santa-dot-Com!"
> > >
> >
> > Merry Christmas and Happy new year to all - including grinches!
> > Greg Koos