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  More of the Lighter Side of Christmas
(this page contains your submitted variations on The Night Before Christmas)

The Night Before Christmas, Legally Speaking  stocking and tree     

Submitted but allegedly not written by Allan Marks          

Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur  at a certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter "the House") a general lack of stirring by all creatures therein,  including, but not limited to a mouse.       
A variety of foot apparel, e.g. stocking, socks, etc., had been  affixed by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that St. Nick a/k/a/ St. Nicholas a/k/a/ Santa Claus  (hereinafter "Claus") would arrive at sometime thereafter.        
The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery  treats, including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams.         
Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to as "I"), being the joint-owner in fee simple of the House with the party of the second part (hereinafter "Mamma"), and  said Mamma had retired for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in various forms of headgear, e.g.  kerchief and cap.)        
Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur  upon the unimproved real property adjacent and appurtent to said House, i.e. the lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature,  cause and/or circumstance. The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the House to investigate the  cause of such disturbance.         
At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter  "the Vehicle") being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the  air by approximately eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle  appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus.         
Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically  indentified the animal co-conspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen (hereinafter "the Deer"). (Upon information and belief, it is further asserted that  an additional co-conspirator named "Rudolph" may have been involved.)         
The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer  intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House,  and noted that the Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature.         
Suddenly, without prior  invitation or permission, either express or implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House via the chimney.  Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large sack containing  a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys, and other unknown items. He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe  in blatant violation of local ordinances and health regulations.         
Claus did not speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of  the minor children, which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys  and other small gifts. (Said items did not, however, constitute "gifts" to said minor pursuant to the applicable provisions of the  U.S. Tax Code.)         
Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose  and flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as "lookouts." Claus immediately departed for an unknown destination.  However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from  said House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"         
Or words to that effect.  

Here's a slightly different version of that poem, submitted by Paul Nahay :   

Jingle Gates stocking and tree by Chet Raymo

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house 
Not a  creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping, 
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.
The stockings were hung by the modem with care, 
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While visions of  computer games danced in their heads.
Dark Forces for Billy, and Doom II for Dan,
And Carmen San Diego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom, 
Which has now been re-routed to Washington State, 
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle, 
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.
After centuries of a life that was simple and spare, 
St. Nicholas is  suddenly a new billionaire.
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh, 
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down by the bay.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view, 
Where they computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or toy soldiers or little toy drums (ahem - pardon me), 
 No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums, 
Will be under the tree, only a new hard drive and three new CD ROMS.
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive, 
From now on Christmas runs only on Windows 95.  
More rapid than eagles the competitors came, 
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too, 
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE!  you are all of you through.
It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist, 
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf, 
And on the package, a   picture of Santa himself.
Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme, 
and a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow! 
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap, 
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, 
The whirr and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky, 
The SANTALITE  owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around, 
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates, 
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates. A
nd I heard them exclaim in voice so bright, 
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.  

 


 

And here's yet another version of that poem, written in 1992 by Lori Factor-Marcus and Bruce Marcus. This poem first appeared in the Boston Globe, and was submitted by Faryl Reingold: 

Erev Christmas
stocking and tree

 Twas the night before Christmas, and we, being Jews,
 My girlfriend and me-we had nothing to do.
 The Gentiles were home, hanging stocking with care,
 Secure in their knowledge St. Nick would be there.
 But for us, once the Hanukkah candles burned down,
 There was nothing but boredom all over town.
 The malls and the theaters were all closed up tight;
 There weren't any concerts to got to that night.
 A dance would have saved us, some ballroom or swing,
 But we searched through the papers; there wasn't a thing.
 Outside the window sat two feet of snow;
 With the wind-chill, they said it was fifteen below.
 And while all I could do was sit there and brood,
 My girl saved the night and called out "CHINESE FOOD!"
 So we ran to the closet, grabbed hats, mitts and boots-
 To cover out heads, our hands, and our foots.
 We pulled on our jackets, all puffy with down.
 And boarded "The T," bound for old Chinatown.
 The train nearly empty, it rolled through the stops,
 While visions of wontons danced through our kopfs.
 We hopped off a Park Street; the Common was bright
 With fresh-fallen snow and the trees strung with lights,
 Then crept through "The Zone" with its bums and its thugs,
 And entrepreneurs selling ladies and drugs.
 At last we reached Chinatown, rushed through the gate,
 Past bakeries, markets, shops and cafes, In search of a restaurant:
"Which one?  Lets decide!"
 We chose "Hunan Chozer," and ventured inside.
 Around us sat others, their platters piled high
 With the finest of foods their money could buy:
 There was roast duck and fried squid, (sweet, sour and spiced,)
 Dried beef and mixed veggies, lo mein and fried rice,
 Whole fish and moo shi and shrimp chow mee foon,
 And General Gaus chicken and ma po tofu....
 When at last we decided, and the waiter did call,
 We said: "Skip the menu!" and ordered it all.
 And when in due time the food was all made,
 It came to the table in a sort of parade.
 Before us sat dim sum, spare ribs and egg rolls,
 And four different soups, in four great, huge bowls.
 The courses kept coming, from spicy to mild,
 And higher and higher toward the ceiling were piled.
 And while this went on, we became aware
 Every diner around us had started to stare.
 Their jaws hanging open, they looked on unblinking;
 Some dropped their teacups, some drooled without thinking.
 So much piled up, one dish after the other,
 My girlfriend and I couldn't see one another!
 Now we sat there, we two, without proper utensils,
 While they handed us something that looked like two pencils.
 We poked and we jabbed till our fingers were sore
 And half of our dinner wound up on the floor.
 We tried-how we tried! -- but, sad truth to tell,
 Ten long minutes later and still hungry as well,
 We swallowed our pride, feeling vaguely like dorks,
 And called to our waiter to bring us two forks.
 We fressed and we feasted, we slurped and we munched.
 We noshed and we supped, we breakfasted and lunched.
 We ate till we couldn't and drank down our teas
 And barely had room for our fortune cookies.
 But my fortune was perfect; it summed up the mood
 When it said: "Pork is kosher, when its in Chinese food."
 And my girlfriend-well ... she got a real winner;
 Hers said: "Your companion will pay for the dinner."
 Our bellies were full and at last it was time
 To travel back home and write some bad rhyme
 Of our Chinatown trek (and to privately speak
 About trying to refine our chopstick technique).
 The MSG spun round and round in our heads,
 As we tripped and we laughed and gaily we said,
As we carried our leftovers home through the night;
 "Good Yom Tov to all-and to all a Good Night!"

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