Something neat from Usenet.
’Twas the night before Christmas, sounds all through the house,
the printer a’buzzing; the clicking of mouse.
The floppies were stored in their cases with care
in hopes that St. Wozniak soon would be there.
The children were nestled, all snug in their beds,
while TransWarp GS’s danced in their head
I need 3 megs more, but RAM costs a min
I’m nodding off, waiting for my printer to print
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I woke with a start, “Now what’s the matter?”
Awakened from slumber I jumped up to see,
tripped over the dog and fell on my knee.
The moon shining onto the new fallen snow
formed a non-standard pallette with objects below.
When what to my poor bloodshot eyes should appear
but SHR graphics! Stereo sound do I hear!
With a sixteen bit chip and new bug-free GSOS,
I knew right away that it must be Saint Woz.
More rapid than Transwarp, his menus they came.
He clicked and he dragged and he called them by name.
“Now Pulldowns, now Buttons, now Dialogs, too.
On Finder, Mac Interface, we’re faster than Mac II!
Blue slips for marketing! DTS better not scoff!
ProDOS format for Technotes or I’ll lay you all off!
You know lame excuses make customers sad;
well Macs in the schools make Applers mad.”
So up to the housetop his menus they flew
with a sack full of RAM chips and Saint Wozniak, too.
I listened intently with my two little ears
to true stereo sound spreading holiday cheer.
As I was scratching head and was turning around
down the chimney Saint Wozniak came with a bound.
He wore sneakers, a t-shirt, and blue jeans
stained with some soda (I think it was cream).
A bundle of chips he had slung on his back
and he looked like a hacker there searching his pack.
His eyes twinkled brightly, his dimples so merry,
his cheeks like twin apples, his nose like a cherry.
His droll little mouth smiled a smile O so grand,
a full bearded chin, AppleLink in his hand.
A thick slice of pizza he held tight with his teeth
while the steam from it circled his head like a wreath.
A plump little face and a round little belly;
he laughed and it shook like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump; a right jolly old elf.
I laughed when I saw him - he resembled myself.
He winked his left eye and he twisted his head,
so I knew deep inside I had nothing to dread.
He said not a word, just went right to work.
He soldered and programmed, then turned with a jerk.
Then placing his finger on top of that mess,
and giving a nod - POOF! fast GS!
He leaped to his ship as it rose from the ground,
up into the sky, and as he turned ’round
I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
“GS plusses for all, and to all a good night!”
[The Unknown User (1989): A Visit from Saint Woz, alt.folklore.computers, 15 December 1989]