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A Christmas poem just for musicians The Source For Jobs Since 1969 Sterling Howard, founder/owner, 818-888-7879


'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (somewhat revised by Sterling Howard)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the venue, Not a creature was stirring, as I looked thru the menu, The decorations were hung on the stage with care, In hopes that the band members would soon be there!

My friends and I had been royally fed, While visions of a good show danced in our heads, And I in my new suit and the date I just met, Had just settled in to watch a three hour set!

When out in a parking lot, there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter, Away to the door I flew like a flash, To see a drummer and bassist, completely smashed!

They were unloading the equipment in the new-fallen snow, From the van, which had traveled all the way from Fargo, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But the rest of the band, all swilling beers!

With a little old manager, so angry and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Nasty Nick, More rapid than eagles his curses they came, And he bitched, and shouted, and called them all names!

"Now, DRUMMER! now, BASSIST! now KEYBORDS! and TRUMPET! On GUITARIST! on SAX! on TROMBONE! and VOCALIST! To the top of the loading ramp! To the top of the wall! Get the equipment inside before you all fall!",

And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door, The slipping and sliding as they fell to the floor, As I gave them a hand and was turning around, I had to wonder at how they might sound!

The lead singer was dressed in leather, from his head to his feet, And his clothes looked very slept in, not at all neat, A bundle of microphones he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack!

His eyes - how they twinkled! I was becoming quite wary, His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry, His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, As he took another swing from his bottle of Old Crow!

He was staggering around as the band tuned up, way off key, I laughed when I saw him, in spite of me, With a wink of his eye and a flick of his hand, The group blasted into a tune by some obscure band!

He sang not a word, but went straight to his mic, Hoping he had picked a song the audience would like, Then STOPPED the music just as it was getting noisy, And announced "Sorry, we're in the wrong club, we're supposed to be in Boise!"

They jumped back in their van, amidst jeers and whistles, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle, But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight, "HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"


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