'Twas The Night Before Rickmas 2003
Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2003 10:12 am
'Twas The Night Before Rickmas 2003
'Twas the night before Rickmas, when all through the factory,
Not a spray booth was stirring, well not exactly.
The guitars were all hung drying with care,
In the hopes that "famous finish" soon would be there.[/size]
Middle-aged men nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Montezuma Brown danced in their heads.
Mamma in her kerchief, and Pappa with his .047 cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.[/size]
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed expecting to see a bantar.
I imagine a scimitar, a cat's eye, a slash,
Maybe an f-hole, ouch! do I have the cash?[/size]
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a UPS truck idling, not eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew right away, that it must be St. Rick.[/size]
More rapid than eagles his limited editions they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Townshend, now McGuinn, now Hoffs, now Lennon,
On Kay, on Squire, on Petty, and Wilson".[/size]
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Dash away, dash away, thank you John Hall.
So up to the house top with Rickenbackers flew,
The sleigh full of basses, Lemmy, Monarch, even St. Nicholas too.[/size]
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The clattering noise of a customer service booth.
All bundled in polish cloths from his head to his foot,
This Rick nut was tarnished with turtle wax and soot.[/size]
I drew in my head and was turning around,
When down the chimney he came with a checkered-bound
Shadow bass he had slung on his back,
Looking like a peddler just opening his pack.[/size]
His eyes, twinkled Turquoise,
His dimples, blushed Burgundy.
His cheeks were like Desert Gold,
His nose like a Ruby.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a Sea Green bow,
The beard on his chin resembled a 12 string Lightshow.[/size]
The stump of a little, old pipe held tight in his teeth,
The smoke went around his head like a Santa Ana wreath.
He was jolly and plump, a right jolly old RIC elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.[/size]
He had a round face, and a little banjoline belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He had an SKB case and strings by the basketful,
Suppose he'll guess this verse is autobiographical?[/size]
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Put on the strings, and turned the truss rod with a jerk.
And laying his intonating wrench aside of his nose,
Gave a nod, and up the jetglo chimney he rose.[/size]
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he jangled out of sight,
"Merry Rickmas to all, and to all a Fireglo night."[/size]
Season's Greetings 2003 to one and all at the Rickenbacker Forum and to John Hall and all those at the Factory.
'Twas the night before Rickmas, when all through the factory,
Not a spray booth was stirring, well not exactly.
The guitars were all hung drying with care,
In the hopes that "famous finish" soon would be there.[/size]
Middle-aged men nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Montezuma Brown danced in their heads.
Mamma in her kerchief, and Pappa with his .047 cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.[/size]
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed expecting to see a bantar.
I imagine a scimitar, a cat's eye, a slash,
Maybe an f-hole, ouch! do I have the cash?[/size]
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a UPS truck idling, not eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew right away, that it must be St. Rick.[/size]
More rapid than eagles his limited editions they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Townshend, now McGuinn, now Hoffs, now Lennon,
On Kay, on Squire, on Petty, and Wilson".[/size]
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Dash away, dash away, thank you John Hall.
So up to the house top with Rickenbackers flew,
The sleigh full of basses, Lemmy, Monarch, even St. Nicholas too.[/size]
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The clattering noise of a customer service booth.
All bundled in polish cloths from his head to his foot,
This Rick nut was tarnished with turtle wax and soot.[/size]
I drew in my head and was turning around,
When down the chimney he came with a checkered-bound
Shadow bass he had slung on his back,
Looking like a peddler just opening his pack.[/size]
His eyes, twinkled Turquoise,
His dimples, blushed Burgundy.
His cheeks were like Desert Gold,
His nose like a Ruby.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a Sea Green bow,
The beard on his chin resembled a 12 string Lightshow.[/size]
The stump of a little, old pipe held tight in his teeth,
The smoke went around his head like a Santa Ana wreath.
He was jolly and plump, a right jolly old RIC elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.[/size]
He had a round face, and a little banjoline belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He had an SKB case and strings by the basketful,
Suppose he'll guess this verse is autobiographical?[/size]
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Put on the strings, and turned the truss rod with a jerk.
And laying his intonating wrench aside of his nose,
Gave a nod, and up the jetglo chimney he rose.[/size]
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he jangled out of sight,
"Merry Rickmas to all, and to all a Fireglo night."[/size]
Season's Greetings 2003 to one and all at the Rickenbacker Forum and to John Hall and all those at the Factory.
