I posted this a couple of years ago, but came across it again last month, making me think I'll do an "encore presentation".
Freakin' Lazy, I know. But I gotta get on the road.
Seriously, whatever Holiday or Religion you observe, I hope each of you find Joy and Peace these next few days and into the next year. Please remember those that not only don't have the fortune of Axioms, but don't even have the fortune of safety, Family, Health or simple Nourishment.
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'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept at Bridgman's (a Mouse!)
The Plasmas were hung over the chimney with care,
Of all of the choices, that's not the best there!
The forum members all were out shopping,
In their minds? New M80s a-hopping;
And Amie in her 'kerchief, and Ian in his cap,
Had just settled…for a long Algonquin nap,
When out near the docks there arose such a clatter,
Ian sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
On the lake and Shania's roof, fresh fallen snow
Adding a lustre of piano-gloss sheen to objects below!
When… What? Could it really be?
Oh Gawd, a miniature Hummer (and on top, a tree)!
With a twinkle-eyed driver, St. Alan I see!
In the back another 800, Marked for CV!
More rapid than electrons, his coursers they came,
And he hummed (not sang), then called them by name;
"Now, Jack! now, Peter! now, TomTuttle and Ken!
On, JP! on Ray! On, Sean and Bren!
To the front of the Hummer! Quick! Make a Hitch!
All-wheel drive? Pffft! It's stuck in a ditch!!"
So they pulled and they heaved, "Give One More Good Try!"
A final tug and UP! They flew to the sky!
So up to the roof-tops, Alan he flew,
With a Hummer full of Speakers, and interconnects too!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my roof
The boom boom boom of a DSP woof.
And now a shimmer: Oh! A tweeter I hear,
Down the chimney came Alan and here's me, with no beer!
He was dressed like a Mountie, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with sawdust and soot;
A bundle of Epics he had flung on his back,
And he looked pretty old, yet still younger than Jack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples: how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, Quick! Someone get Mary!
In his hands a huge package, (shut up Peter!), but what could it be?
On the side, "M-100"; and for under my tree!
The bass would be smooth, the mids oh so silky
I regretted that lack of beer; I only had milk-y
Alan had a broad belly and a big belt amids,
The cookies, at least, would last until Wids.
St. Alan had keen ears, townspeople say,
"Solid State", he would say, just like JohnK.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
The sweet spot is now widened (and deepened!) he said.
He spoke not a word, but managed my bass,
(It's spelled with two esses, not an "e" stupid-face)!!
And Peaks and Valleys, now they are all gone!
Square room? Not me! Now it is Oblong!
He sprang to his hummer, and shouted Yallo…!
Not a B-stock here, all will be VasSallo!
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"No Tubes! Digital Amps to all! Bye Now! Good-Night."
