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A SQLServerCentral.com Christmas

By Steve Jones, (first published: 2004/12/24)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the cubes

Not a creature was stirring, not even the cleaning crew rubes;

The stockings were hung in the data center with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The code was all locked down, changes put to bed,

While visions of bugs danced in developers' heads;

And my manager in his bowler, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long night's nap,

When down in the data center there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Down the elevator I flew past the floors,

Swiped my key card and threw open the door.

The AC was cooling, the batteries all green

The servers all humming, nothing amiss I could glean

Tape backups were on, data flowing through the wires

What could be wrong? In the racks hidden a fire?

As I crept through the aisles, alert for any sound

I stopped in wonder at what I had found.

Small footprints in snow, in my clean, dry data room,

Leading from an empty rack, I almost went for the broom.

But I heard a short chuckle, and a tinkle and a knock

And I knew that St. Nick and his bag of presents must be in the NOC.

More rapid than a cheetah, I stole across the room

Slowly pushed open the door, and peered through the gloom.

Nothing in there, save some crumbs from leftover cookies,

Then behind me I heard a thump and a the jingle of keys.

I raced back to the rack, finding it empty, open, and wet

And I gazed in wonder at the sight that I met.

Each server, still racked, still humming, still able

A branch of mistletoe afixed above each label.

Somehow I then heard, footsteps on the roof from a hefty fellow

Back to the elevator, up and out to my window,

And I saw shadows pass, 8 small and 1 large,

And I heard a whistle, and shout, and and these names;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the generator! to the top of the wall

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As the snow swirled around and the shadows dashed away,

I sat back and noticed how much had changed,

My manager still asleep, in his chair, feet propped up.

And small stockings on each cube, filled with geek t-shirts and cups.

I stared with wonder, and heard this in the night,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

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