O Christmas lights, shine!
Why wait until all is done,
before you go out?
Every year the same,
Charlie Brown's dissed for his tree.
Will they never learn?
Christmas sales, please come.
I need you right now, and not
after presents bought.
Three ghosts come, three go.
Ebenezer's world is rocked,
Tiny Tim wins most.
Snowman on the ground
is tacky but still better
than when inflated.
December 20, 2007
September 19, 2007
Captain Cookie Pirate Radio
Ahoy, matey! Today has been designated "Talk Like A Pirate Day". So Captain Cookie has recorded a pirate radio show for you listening pleasure, ya scurvy dogs. So enjoy, or else. ARRR!
August 12, 2007
Lunchtime Ramble
I was at the local Chinese Buffet with a friend from work, and at the end of our meal we received the traditional fortune cookies.
My fortune read, "You are the mast of everything situation." While we pondered what that meant, the other cookie was opened.
The fortune within the second cookie actually made sense, causing the person I was eating with to say, "Mine must have been written by an onshore writer." This was referring to the practice that our software support vendor has where if we don't want to talk to someone from India we can request an "onshore" technician.
About a second later I responded by saying, "Oh yeah, I've got to do that." When asked what I had to do I responded that the "onshore" remark reminded me that I had to pick up some luggage that was being repaired.
Seeing the quizzical look this generated I walked through my train of thought.
The "onshore" technician and the fact I was sitting in a Chinese restaurant caused me to think of the oriental guy who was at the dry cleaners I recently visited. He spoke excellent English. That led me to the suit I had dropped off there, and I remembered that I had picked it up earlier. That led me to think about stuff that needs picking up, and I remembered that I had a suitcase getting fixed at the shoe repair shop that was overdue for pick up.
After I went through all of that we looked at each other and said, "Wow". It's an odd train of thought, but that's what happened.
So if you ever wanted to know what went on in my mind now you know. And if you didn't want to know, well, it's too late. Sorry.
My fortune read, "You are the mast of everything situation." While we pondered what that meant, the other cookie was opened.
The fortune within the second cookie actually made sense, causing the person I was eating with to say, "Mine must have been written by an onshore writer." This was referring to the practice that our software support vendor has where if we don't want to talk to someone from India we can request an "onshore" technician.
About a second later I responded by saying, "Oh yeah, I've got to do that." When asked what I had to do I responded that the "onshore" remark reminded me that I had to pick up some luggage that was being repaired.
Seeing the quizzical look this generated I walked through my train of thought.
The "onshore" technician and the fact I was sitting in a Chinese restaurant caused me to think of the oriental guy who was at the dry cleaners I recently visited. He spoke excellent English. That led me to the suit I had dropped off there, and I remembered that I had picked it up earlier. That led me to think about stuff that needs picking up, and I remembered that I had a suitcase getting fixed at the shoe repair shop that was overdue for pick up.
After I went through all of that we looked at each other and said, "Wow". It's an odd train of thought, but that's what happened.
So if you ever wanted to know what went on in my mind now you know. And if you didn't want to know, well, it's too late. Sorry.
July 31, 2007
Fork Anxiety
I recently attended a wedding and reception at a local golf club. The weather was perfect as we sat on the patio and watched as vows and rings were exchanged. The ceremony went well, even if the string quartet was a bit out of tune. Afterwards it was time for cocktails, and then we moved inside for the reception.
As I sat down I counted no less than three forks by my plate; two set to the left, slightly offset, and one above the plate.
That was when it hit: Fork Anxiety.
I struggled to keep my breathing even as the utensils glinted at me with a golden sheen. I peered at the forks. The two to the left might be identical but their offset position made one of them appear bigger than the other. Was that an optical illusion, or were they the same size?
I peered at the fork along the top of the plate, tilting my head. Was it bigger than the other two. Was the gold finish a trifle more golden?
I racked my brain for clues as to which for to use first, but all my frantic gray matter could come up with was a hazy memory of a middle school teacher admonishing me to not fling potatoes with my spork.
And then the moment was upon me as the wait staff served salad. I took my time unfolding the blue linen napkin and placing it across my lap just so, all the while shooting furtive glances at my table-mates to see which fork they chose.
To my surprise I saw that the various people picked different forks, talking and laughing like they didn't have a care in the world. They didn't seem to care which fork was used, or concerned about a table etiquette faux pax.
I tentatively picked up the fork furthest to my left, and quickly stabbed a piece of lettuce. No one pointed, no one laughed. I sighed happily as I munched on my lettuce. I was just being silly; just acting the fool. No one cared which fork I chose. This was a happy occasion, and I should enjoy it.
I resolved to not let such stupid cares worry me again. I skewered a piece of tomato on my fork, but noticed it was too big for a single mouthful and reached for my knife. It was then I noticed that I had three knives.
That was when it hit: Knife Nervousness.
As I sat down I counted no less than three forks by my plate; two set to the left, slightly offset, and one above the plate.
That was when it hit: Fork Anxiety.
I struggled to keep my breathing even as the utensils glinted at me with a golden sheen. I peered at the forks. The two to the left might be identical but their offset position made one of them appear bigger than the other. Was that an optical illusion, or were they the same size?
I peered at the fork along the top of the plate, tilting my head. Was it bigger than the other two. Was the gold finish a trifle more golden?
I racked my brain for clues as to which for to use first, but all my frantic gray matter could come up with was a hazy memory of a middle school teacher admonishing me to not fling potatoes with my spork.
And then the moment was upon me as the wait staff served salad. I took my time unfolding the blue linen napkin and placing it across my lap just so, all the while shooting furtive glances at my table-mates to see which fork they chose.
To my surprise I saw that the various people picked different forks, talking and laughing like they didn't have a care in the world. They didn't seem to care which fork was used, or concerned about a table etiquette faux pax.
I tentatively picked up the fork furthest to my left, and quickly stabbed a piece of lettuce. No one pointed, no one laughed. I sighed happily as I munched on my lettuce. I was just being silly; just acting the fool. No one cared which fork I chose. This was a happy occasion, and I should enjoy it.
I resolved to not let such stupid cares worry me again. I skewered a piece of tomato on my fork, but noticed it was too big for a single mouthful and reached for my knife. It was then I noticed that I had three knives.
That was when it hit: Knife Nervousness.
Rambling Rant: HTML me, baby!
I know a few people who slavishly refuse to read or send read e-mails in HTML format. They steadfastly cling to outdated notions that they are "safer" and "faster" by eschewing "pretty" e-mail for plain text. This came up once again in discussion, and after hearing the same tired old reasonings I just had to speak up. I will be addressing the "concerns" point by point.
HTML e-mail is unsafe
Let me start by saying that I have been using HTML e-mail for at least the last five years. I send HTML e-mails, I read HTML e-mails. I get newsletters in HTML format. In all that time I have never gotten a single virus running amok on my PC from an HTML e-mail, and I have had precious few e-mails containing a virus that my anti-virus software had to stop.
Both my anti-virus and firewall software keep a sharp eye out for malicious e-mail. With the proper protection, there is nothing to fear from receiving an e-mail in HTML format. Over the years I have used Outlook Express, Outlook, and currently Thunderbird. All of which work flawlessly HTML e-mail.
HTML e-mail is slow
Those who prefer plain text e-mail like to trumpet that HTML e-mails are twice as large. It turns out that this is true. Gasp! What to do? A little research proves the answer is: Nothing.
I took an e-mail that I recently received (which just so happened to be expounding on the evils of HTML e-mail) consisting of 366 words. I added all sorts of HTML tricks to it like different fonts, bold, italics, and a few emoticons, all of which doubled the size this e-mail to a whopping 5 kilobytes. A few quick calculations show this will take about .73 seconds to transmit via-dial up.
An HTML e-mail of over 2100 words takes about 5 seconds to transmit. Once again, that is over dial up. Remember that 2100 words is a good-size magazine article. Most e-mails are no where near that size. Also remember that if you have DSL or cable it will take quite a bit less time.
Some HTML e-mail will reference pictures from other places in the internet. In a dial-up environment this can be slow, and is another common argument that is used against HTML e-mail. However, most e-mail software has the ability to prevent HTML e-mail from accessing content from elsewhere on the internet, should the user so choose.
HTML e-mail is rude
Some who prefer plain text also like to say that it is rude to send e-mail in HTML format when they prefer it in plain text. Balderdash! I say. I should be able to send e-mail in any format I desire. How the recipient chooses to read it is up to them. Most e-mail clients can be configured to show all e-mails in plain text, even if they were sent in HTML.
My PC Is Too Old
As Colonal Potter used to say on M*A*S*H, "Horsefeathers!" Thunderbird will run on operating systems as old as Windows 98. Other e-mail clients will go back as far as Windows 3.1. Heck, I even found one that will run on DOS! So if you have an old system, teach it a new trick with HTML e-mail.
Now if it your personal preference to read e-mail strictly in the Courier font, without any embellishment or modification, by all means enjoy yourself. But don't expect me to believe that HTML e-mail threatens our virtual security and happiness. I'm not buying it.
Thus endth the rant.
HTML e-mail is unsafe
Let me start by saying that I have been using HTML e-mail for at least the last five years. I send HTML e-mails, I read HTML e-mails. I get newsletters in HTML format. In all that time I have never gotten a single virus running amok on my PC from an HTML e-mail, and I have had precious few e-mails containing a virus that my anti-virus software had to stop.
Both my anti-virus and firewall software keep a sharp eye out for malicious e-mail. With the proper protection, there is nothing to fear from receiving an e-mail in HTML format. Over the years I have used Outlook Express, Outlook, and currently Thunderbird. All of which work flawlessly HTML e-mail.
HTML e-mail is slow
Those who prefer plain text e-mail like to trumpet that HTML e-mails are twice as large. It turns out that this is true. Gasp! What to do? A little research proves the answer is: Nothing.
I took an e-mail that I recently received (which just so happened to be expounding on the evils of HTML e-mail) consisting of 366 words. I added all sorts of HTML tricks to it like different fonts, bold, italics, and a few emoticons, all of which doubled the size this e-mail to a whopping 5 kilobytes. A few quick calculations show this will take about .73 seconds to transmit via-dial up.
An HTML e-mail of over 2100 words takes about 5 seconds to transmit. Once again, that is over dial up. Remember that 2100 words is a good-size magazine article. Most e-mails are no where near that size. Also remember that if you have DSL or cable it will take quite a bit less time.
Some HTML e-mail will reference pictures from other places in the internet. In a dial-up environment this can be slow, and is another common argument that is used against HTML e-mail. However, most e-mail software has the ability to prevent HTML e-mail from accessing content from elsewhere on the internet, should the user so choose.
HTML e-mail is rude
Some who prefer plain text also like to say that it is rude to send e-mail in HTML format when they prefer it in plain text. Balderdash! I say. I should be able to send e-mail in any format I desire. How the recipient chooses to read it is up to them. Most e-mail clients can be configured to show all e-mails in plain text, even if they were sent in HTML.
My PC Is Too Old
As Colonal Potter used to say on M*A*S*H, "Horsefeathers!" Thunderbird will run on operating systems as old as Windows 98. Other e-mail clients will go back as far as Windows 3.1. Heck, I even found one that will run on DOS! So if you have an old system, teach it a new trick with HTML e-mail.
Now if it your personal preference to read e-mail strictly in the Courier font, without any embellishment or modification, by all means enjoy yourself. But don't expect me to believe that HTML e-mail threatens our virtual security and happiness. I'm not buying it.
Thus endth the rant.
June 15, 2007
I'm Not Eating It!
I was at the local mega-mart yesterday and I saw yet another food product that should never have left the drawing board. I am talking about Shrek Rice Krispies Treats.
I have eaten quite a few foods that are colored artificially, and most do not give me pause. I've even eaten ravioli made with green pasta without thinking twice. But when I am presented with an artificially colored, square bar that reminds me of Soylent Green, oddly enough I do not have any desire to partake.
To make matters worse, the makers wanted to show that this is a gooey product, so they thought it would be attractive to show tendrils of sticky goodness connecting one piece of the bar to another. But when it is colored green, I immediately ask myself "Is that snot? Did Donkey sneeze on this?"
Almost as if they knew it would be a flop, the box proudly states that this product is a "Limited Edition". Am I supposed to think that this will be a collectors item some day? Should I buy a box and keep it for investment purposes? Maybe I can sell it on Ebay in twenty years for thousands of dollars. And if the stuff goes bad during that time, how would I know? It's already green!
So with apologies to Kermit, let me state that some things just have no business being green. As far as I am concerned, Rice Krispies Treats are near the top of the list.
I have eaten quite a few foods that are colored artificially, and most do not give me pause. I've even eaten ravioli made with green pasta without thinking twice. But when I am presented with an artificially colored, square bar that reminds me of Soylent Green, oddly enough I do not have any desire to partake.
To make matters worse, the makers wanted to show that this is a gooey product, so they thought it would be attractive to show tendrils of sticky goodness connecting one piece of the bar to another. But when it is colored green, I immediately ask myself "Is that snot? Did Donkey sneeze on this?"
Almost as if they knew it would be a flop, the box proudly states that this product is a "Limited Edition". Am I supposed to think that this will be a collectors item some day? Should I buy a box and keep it for investment purposes? Maybe I can sell it on Ebay in twenty years for thousands of dollars. And if the stuff goes bad during that time, how would I know? It's already green!
So with apologies to Kermit, let me state that some things just have no business being green. As far as I am concerned, Rice Krispies Treats are near the top of the list.
April 26, 2007
Rambling Rant: Spay & Neuter
I was out running errands recently and saw a bumper sticker that at first glance was like many others adorning the rear-ends of vehicles. The sticker featured a silhouette of a dog and cat along with the large words "SPAY & NEUTER". Seems innocent enough, right? Preventing unwanted pets is a good thing. Then I noticed the last word at the bottom, in much smaller print, "Republicans".
While I am not a registered Republican, nor have I played one on TV, I will admit that the Republican party has my allegiance most of the time. And my first reaction was a scowl and "Democrats!" muttered under my breath, as I imagined them having a good chuckle. But my political beliefs have nothing to do with the rest of this rant.
Though quickly shoved aside, the image of that sticker kept coming back to me at odd times. After a while I finally realized that the sticker held a more disturbing message than a little partisan bickering.
By saying that a particular population (whoever that is) should be spayed and neutered, the sign is really saying "Your message, ideals, and beliefs are so repugnant that they, along with you, should DIE OUT!" It was saying that the world would be better off without, in this case, Republicans.
Is this a healthy message? I don't think so. Is it dangerous and inflammatory? Absolutely. Looking at recent history we saw a troubled young man who decided last week that his life would be better without a few of his classmates in it, so he shot them. Do I know if ideas such as this are what set him off? No, I don't. But as it did in my mind to produce this rant, it could plant a seed that if watered with insanity could produce a tragic crop.
I also have this image that I can't shake of a bunch of Nazis looking at a bumper sticker that says "Spay & Neuter Jews" and having a good laugh. And while to my knowledge they did not have any such sticker, they had other bits of propaganda that seemed just as innocent. The end result was millions of Jews dead.
Did the owner of the car that sported the bumper sticker intend such terrible things? Probably not. I hope he thought it was a funny bumper sticker he could use to tweak the other party. But before we slap some witty phrase to the back of our cars we should consider any deeper meanings that may exist, and ask ourselves if that is really what we want to say.
End of Rant.
While I am not a registered Republican, nor have I played one on TV, I will admit that the Republican party has my allegiance most of the time. And my first reaction was a scowl and "Democrats!" muttered under my breath, as I imagined them having a good chuckle. But my political beliefs have nothing to do with the rest of this rant.
Though quickly shoved aside, the image of that sticker kept coming back to me at odd times. After a while I finally realized that the sticker held a more disturbing message than a little partisan bickering.
By saying that a particular population (whoever that is) should be spayed and neutered, the sign is really saying "Your message, ideals, and beliefs are so repugnant that they, along with you, should DIE OUT!" It was saying that the world would be better off without, in this case, Republicans.
Is this a healthy message? I don't think so. Is it dangerous and inflammatory? Absolutely. Looking at recent history we saw a troubled young man who decided last week that his life would be better without a few of his classmates in it, so he shot them. Do I know if ideas such as this are what set him off? No, I don't. But as it did in my mind to produce this rant, it could plant a seed that if watered with insanity could produce a tragic crop.
I also have this image that I can't shake of a bunch of Nazis looking at a bumper sticker that says "Spay & Neuter Jews" and having a good laugh. And while to my knowledge they did not have any such sticker, they had other bits of propaganda that seemed just as innocent. The end result was millions of Jews dead.
Did the owner of the car that sported the bumper sticker intend such terrible things? Probably not. I hope he thought it was a funny bumper sticker he could use to tweak the other party. But before we slap some witty phrase to the back of our cars we should consider any deeper meanings that may exist, and ask ourselves if that is really what we want to say.
End of Rant.
It's Different!
This post is inspired by a help desk call I recently heard take place at work, and later a co-worker and I got silly while discussing it at lunch. It involves a user who is trying to sign onto a system used for testing.
We now join the call in progress...
We now join the call in progress...
User: Hi! I am trying to get onto the test system and can't remember the password.
Help Desk Technician: To sign onto the test
system use your normal user ID and the password "different"
User: So my password is different?
HDT: Yes.
User: But what is the test password?HDT: "Different". It is the same as it was
before.User: So it's the same?
HDT: Yep, it's "different".
User: It's the same and different?
HDT: Yes, you've got it.
User: I've got what?!?
HDT: The password, "different".
User: But it is the same as before?
HDT: Yup.
User: Is it the same as my normal password?
HDT: No, it's different.
User: Different than what?
HDT: The test password.
User: And what is the test password?
HDT: I already told you it is "different"
User: But you said it was the same.
HDT: Yes, the test password has not changed. It is "different".
User: And my normal password is
different?HDT: No, it is the same. The test password is "different".
User: Let's start over. I want to sign on to the test system. I enter my normal user ID, and the test password which is...
HDT: "Different"
User: [groans] Which is the same, but different than my normal password.
HDT: Yes!
User: I give up! I didn't want to test this stuff,
anyway! [hangs up]HDT: Users!
February 23, 2007
Double Takes
Sometimes my eye will catch part of a word and my brain will attempt to fill in the missing letters. Other times I just come across something that I have to take another look at. I usually find these little episodes funny, and so I share a few here.
I was walking past a bookstore one evening and glanced at the books in the window. It was a brisk night so I wasn't stoppping to peruse the titles. Out of the corner of I my eye I saw a book that I thought was titled Sex, Love, and Diarrhea. This unlikely grouping brought me to a sudden stop so I could look again. Closer examination revealed that the actual title was Sex, Love, and Dharma. I don't know what the book is about, but it has to be better than than what I initially thought.
I was driving past a church recently and saw they had a message board. As I snuck a glance at the sign I read "Feed your faith and your donuts will starve". While there is a police station nearby, I doubted the church was really condoning pastry genocide. I also doubted that the cops would stand for it. Furthermore, I doubted that I had read the sign correctly. Sure enough, a second look showed my doubts were correct and it really said "...your doubts will starve". If only I had gotten a hint.
Recently the Human Resources department at work covered the walls with posters that said "Quit today. Live better tomorrow", and "How many reasons do you need to quit?" This was not a new head count reduction program. In reality these posters are for a smoking cessation program, but you have to read the bottom portion of the poster to know that. A co-worker mentioned this to one of the HR people and they said they'd never thought of it that way. These are the people who do my paycheck. Yet another reason to quit.
I shot this photo outside our vetrenarian's office. Maybe the security people are hiding behind the sign?
I was walking past a bookstore one evening and glanced at the books in the window. It was a brisk night so I wasn't stoppping to peruse the titles. Out of the corner of I my eye I saw a book that I thought was titled Sex, Love, and Diarrhea. This unlikely grouping brought me to a sudden stop so I could look again. Closer examination revealed that the actual title was Sex, Love, and Dharma. I don't know what the book is about, but it has to be better than than what I initially thought.
I was driving past a church recently and saw they had a message board. As I snuck a glance at the sign I read "Feed your faith and your donuts will starve". While there is a police station nearby, I doubted the church was really condoning pastry genocide. I also doubted that the cops would stand for it. Furthermore, I doubted that I had read the sign correctly. Sure enough, a second look showed my doubts were correct and it really said "...your doubts will starve". If only I had gotten a hint.
Recently the Human Resources department at work covered the walls with posters that said "Quit today. Live better tomorrow", and "How many reasons do you need to quit?" This was not a new head count reduction program. In reality these posters are for a smoking cessation program, but you have to read the bottom portion of the poster to know that. A co-worker mentioned this to one of the HR people and they said they'd never thought of it that way. These are the people who do my paycheck. Yet another reason to quit.
I shot this photo outside our vetrenarian's office. Maybe the security people are hiding behind the sign?
February 01, 2007
Rambling Rant: Bass Ackwards
This rant is for those members of the driving public that prefer to back into parking spaces. If you are one of these people, consider this a public service announcement just for you. Enjoy!
Parking backward takes skill and finesse. You do not have any. You invariably end up on the line and too close to the car next to you. Nine times out of ten your vehicle is crooked.
To quote Mr. Spock, parking bass ackwards is illogical. Does it really make more sense to back into a space ten foot wide and twelve foot long, then it does to back out of a parking spot into a much larger area?
Have you noticed that it takes you longer to park this way? While you are trying to cram your SUV into a parking spot that you can't see because your eyes face the wrong way, I have parked my vehicle, gone into the store, made my purchases, and are leaving before you can hit my car.
If you have one of those vehicles that beep while you are in reverse, take note of how long you hear it. If the sound lasts longer than 30 seconds you are probably in violation of local noise pollution laws.
So, please, stop it. Just don't do it... for the children. Or the spotted owl. Or whatever.
End of rant.
Parking backward takes skill and finesse. You do not have any. You invariably end up on the line and too close to the car next to you. Nine times out of ten your vehicle is crooked.
To quote Mr. Spock, parking bass ackwards is illogical. Does it really make more sense to back into a space ten foot wide and twelve foot long, then it does to back out of a parking spot into a much larger area?
Have you noticed that it takes you longer to park this way? While you are trying to cram your SUV into a parking spot that you can't see because your eyes face the wrong way, I have parked my vehicle, gone into the store, made my purchases, and are leaving before you can hit my car.
If you have one of those vehicles that beep while you are in reverse, take note of how long you hear it. If the sound lasts longer than 30 seconds you are probably in violation of local noise pollution laws.
So, please, stop it. Just don't do it... for the children. Or the spotted owl. Or whatever.
End of rant.
January 25, 2007
Santa Scrooge
A no-so-dramatic reading can be heard by clicking the play button.
'Twas a month after Christmas and all through my home,
not a creature was stirring. I was alone.
Up late at my Xbox I sat playing games,
When I heard an odd noise that I could not name.
From 'cross the hall the sound came again,
and I knew I should check if it's a foe or a friend.
In my stocking clad feet I snuck though the house
Making less noise than even a mouse.
As I peeked 'round the corner I saw standing there,
An old man by the mantle with a shock of white hair.
He wore red velvet unmarked with black soot,
and he had no belly that jiggled or shook.
Up on his head was a short stove-pipe hat,
and he bent his lean body as he cracked his sore back.
I gave a small jerk as I knew who it was
Santa Scrooge was here to help out the Claus.
With a brief "Ho, Ho, Humbug" he turned to his work,
And went looking for presents thier owners forsook.
He looks for those gifts that came Christmas morn
But now sit abandoned, lost and forlorn.
He takes back the gifts to Santa you see,
Kind of a yule tide recycling.
Once he was done with his rounds though the houses,
He would return to Santa the books and the blouses.
All of the things he gathered today
would be refurbished and then put away.
But come next December when Christmas time reigns,
These gifts would be brought out and given again.
Scrooge just doesn't take them, that's stealing you see.
So he replaces the gifts with stuff no one needs.
He came to a paint set that sat on the floor.
It had been for Laura, but played with no more.
His fingers they scrabbled and picked up the gift,
Then he fished in his bag and a twist tie he left.
He moved through the house, making his swaps.
A pin for a CD, a stick for a watch.
Each purloined present went into his bag,
and in its place he left lint or a rag.
When he was done he returned to his start,
raised his hand as to knock and the wall split apart.
He walked through the wall and climbed in his cart,
where two very strong steeds were waiting to start.
And as the walls closed again and repaired the split,
He gave a great shout (Next!) and a crack of his whip.
And I heard him exclaim as he rode down the lane,
"Ho, Ho, Humbug to all, and I'll come back again!"
'Twas a month after Christmas and all through my home,
not a creature was stirring. I was alone.
Up late at my Xbox I sat playing games,
When I heard an odd noise that I could not name.
From 'cross the hall the sound came again,
and I knew I should check if it's a foe or a friend.
In my stocking clad feet I snuck though the house
Making less noise than even a mouse.
As I peeked 'round the corner I saw standing there,
An old man by the mantle with a shock of white hair.
He wore red velvet unmarked with black soot,
and he had no belly that jiggled or shook.
Up on his head was a short stove-pipe hat,
and he bent his lean body as he cracked his sore back.
I gave a small jerk as I knew who it was
Santa Scrooge was here to help out the Claus.
With a brief "Ho, Ho, Humbug" he turned to his work,
And went looking for presents thier owners forsook.
He looks for those gifts that came Christmas morn
But now sit abandoned, lost and forlorn.
He takes back the gifts to Santa you see,
Kind of a yule tide recycling.
Once he was done with his rounds though the houses,
He would return to Santa the books and the blouses.
All of the things he gathered today
would be refurbished and then put away.
But come next December when Christmas time reigns,
These gifts would be brought out and given again.
Scrooge just doesn't take them, that's stealing you see.
So he replaces the gifts with stuff no one needs.
He came to a paint set that sat on the floor.
It had been for Laura, but played with no more.
His fingers they scrabbled and picked up the gift,
Then he fished in his bag and a twist tie he left.
He moved through the house, making his swaps.
A pin for a CD, a stick for a watch.
Each purloined present went into his bag,
and in its place he left lint or a rag.
When he was done he returned to his start,
raised his hand as to knock and the wall split apart.
He walked through the wall and climbed in his cart,
where two very strong steeds were waiting to start.
And as the walls closed again and repaired the split,
He gave a great shout (Next!) and a crack of his whip.
And I heard him exclaim as he rode down the lane,
"Ho, Ho, Humbug to all, and I'll come back again!"
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