Found while cleaning...

[donnad.livejournal.com]

I was cleaning out some old files and came across this, it was written for Arisia 1992. I thought folks might find it amusing.

'Twas the Night before Arisia

"Twas the night before Arisia, when all through Bean Town
Not a creature was sleeping, they were up and aroun';

The techies were rushing to hang all the lights,
Climbing their ladders to incredible heights;

Hotel staffers were watching with awe in their eyes,
While our teams of professionals proved they were wise;

With Jeff in his tech vest, with radio and hat,
Grinning ear to ear like the Cheshire cat;

When down in Logistics there arose such a clatter,
He ran from the ballroom to see what was the matter;

"The projectors don't work" shouted films in frustration,
"The computer's are down, there goes registration."

For space they were vying, Ops and Logistics,
Till Kevin made use of his store of ballistics;

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
It was a Checker Taxi Cab, the Guest of Honor was here;

When the little old driver hit the curb with a thunk,
It was good that the guest, on the plane, had got drunk;

Faster than lightning, the con chair she came,
She screamed and she cursed each department by name;

"Now Programming, Events, Logistics and Ops,
It's time to get started, you great bunch of flops;"

"To the top of the ladder, to the top of the stair,
Set that one up here, set this one up there;"

The hotel was engulfed in chaos and gloom,
Programming retreated into the Green room;

Up to my hotel room I dashed for my notes,
What's the use then I thought, I'm working with goats;

And then in a crackling I heard on my radio,
The ballroom was done, it was ready to go;

As I drew in my breath and was turning around,
Up the stairs came Kimberly, with a great bound;

She was covered in white from her head to her toe,
What else could go wrong, it was starting to snow;

A box full of paperwork she flung on the floor,
And screamed rather loudly, "I can't take anymore!"

Her eyes they were glazed, her braces they sparkled,
Her nose it was red, her speech was quite garbled;

A look at her face revealed not a smile,
Someone yelled "Lighten up" she replied "Not my style."

"On the street the art panels are still stacked in the vans,
Get me some help, what use are these fans?"

The Gofer head popped out of the hole with a leer,
"Who's the next sucker? I mean volunteer!"

Down at the pool someone dropped in dry ice,
What's the problem I thought, the fog is quite nice."

Call Hotel Security? Police? Nine One One?
No, give them to Joelll, let him have some fun;

He said not a word, but went straight to his work,
Tracked down the offender, and strangled the jerk;

The move in was finished, the hour was late,
Anything left for tonight, would just have to wait;

As set-up slowed down, the hotel became still,
We all met in the green room, to drink (that awful) yuppie swill;

Despite all the problems, I'm willing to bet,
Still someone will ask, "Are we having fun yet?"


Concieved and written for Arisia 1992 by Donna M. Dube with help from Hunter, Ann Catelli, Jim (Riker) Belfiore, Pat (Pim) Newcomb, Beth Gallagher, Kim (the con chair) Van Auken, Heather Coon, Johnna Klukas, Pat (El Supremo) McCormack and the beasts Midnight and Sasha.


Yeah, I know the PP doesn't have a pool. It just worked with the poem.