Wednesday, December 24, 2014

All I Want For Christmas Is Electricity

First published in The Oxford Journal on Tuesday, December 23, 2014 by Sara Jewell Mattinson.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the county,
Not a creature was stirring which so pleased the Mounties.
The work boots were placed by the back door with care,
In hopes that by morning, they would still be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Apples danced in their heads.
And my wife in her jammies and I in my briefs
Had just settled in to watch the Habs and the Leafs,
When out on the lawn there appeared a tall ladder,
I leaped out of my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Pulled back the curtain and peered through the glass.
The moon shining down on the fresh foot of snow
Reminded me the forecast was calling for more.
Then what did my wondering eyes spy at that time
But a man in a red coveralls about to climb
Up over my eaves and onto the shingles;
The fear of a lawsuit made my toes start to tingle.
Parked beneath him was the most wondrous machine,
All white with bright lights like I’d never seen.
He wasn’t alone, there were eight workers with him,
Standing around holding cups full of Tim’s.
I whistled and shouted and called out a few names,
“Now, dash it, you morons, I’ll have none of your games.”
But all I heard in response was their answering reply,
“Now dash away, dash away, hurry up, fly!”
Up to the housetop the big man did scurry,
And I in my briefs to the second floor hurried.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof,
The clomping and tromping of two great big hoofs.
I was running downstairs when my wife gave a shout
And I dashed to the living room to see what was about.
We were turning around when we heard a big crash
And in our fireplace sitting all warm in the ash
Was an unwelcome visitor in our abode: 
The big man himself, NS Power’s CEO.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
Although he was now tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of papers he had flung over his back
While another crash in the chimney brought down a huge pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled, and his face was quite merry
As he stood in our living room and said, “Happy Christmas, Larry.
I come bearing gifts, as your electricity king,
Rebates and discounts and other great things.
Incandescent lights that are full of mercury,
(But no solar panels that could save you money).
I have many more lights to string ‘round your tree
For with these gifts for you come gifts for me.
A year-end bonus that will buy me a new sleigh,
And a winter vacation far, far away.”
Then he stopped all his talking and went straight to work
Filling our stockings with a self-satisfied smirk,
Then laying a certain finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
Back down the ladder he went; to his team gave a whistle,
They jumped into the truck and drove off like a pistol,
But we heard him exclaim as they drove down the pike,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a rate hike.”

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