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Posted by on Dec 22nd, 2011 and filed under Viewpoints. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

A Visit from Santa (Anas)



(With my annual apologies to Clement Clarke Moore and a big, honkin’ “Thank you!” to SoCal Edison employees.)

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the Valley,
The shoppers were combing the stores, streets and alleys.
Looking for last minute bargains and buys,
Before they collapse with a whimper and sighs.  

Our kids had come home from their colleges far,
They were raiding the fridge and borrowing the car.
And me in my slippers and mom in her robe,
Were finding new patience to match that of Job.

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,
I burst through my screen door to see what was the matter.
The winds had returned and were blowing quite hard,
There were branches and tree limbs all over our yard.

The moon on the wreck of my neighbor’s wood fence
Let me know – from the wind – we would have no defense.
Our gardener had come only hours before,
He had mowed and had blowed ’til he couldn’t do more.

Then from inside the house, my dear wife, she did shout,
“Oh crud, not again … our dang power is out!
The lights have gone dark and the heater just quit,
My blow dryer’s dead, I’m so mad I could spit!”

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a big snorkel truck that was loaded with gear.
With a no-nonsense driver, all frazzled and furry,
I said to myself, “This old guy’s in a hurry!”

More rapid than eagles, up our driveway he came,
He went right to work, never saying his name.
Checking our breakers and wiring and power,
That old guy was good, it was his finest hour.

A big coil of wire he had flung on his back,
And he looked like an angel with hope in his pack.
He was dressed all in denim and flannel and hardhat,
He worked fast with his tools, not once stopping to chat.

The end of a line he held tight in his teeth,
Transformer smoke encircled his head like a wreath.
His face it was weathered, his hands very calloused,
They worked wire cutters with such nimble prowess.

Then throwing a switch at the top of the pole,
He quickly climbed down and commenced to extol.
“That’s it, I’m all done, you can wipe off that frown,
You’ve got power again and the wind’s dying down.”

My wife was ecstatic, our fridge was back on!
We could once more leave lights on from dusk until dawn.
The meat in our freezer would not be thrown out,
The veggies and bread loaves and “fresh” frozen trout.

But who was our hero, I wanted to know?
This electrical wizard now packing to go.
I wanted to thank him with great gratitude,
To just let him leave would be terribly rude!

But when I walked over to give him our best,
He got back in his truck like an unwanted guest.
He started the engine and put it in gear,
Didn’t want any thanks, that was perfectly clear.

With a wave of his hand he bid us goodbye,
Drove away down our street with his headlights on high.
But I heard him exclaim with his window rolled down,
“Merry Christmas to all, and I’ll see you ‘round town!”

© 2011 WordChaser, Inc. Jim Chase is an award- winning advertising copywriter and native of Southern California. Readers are invited to “friend” his My Thoughts Exactly page on Facebook. Also visit Jim’s new blog with past columns and additional thoughts at: http:// jchasemythoughtsexactly.blogspot.com/

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