It would not have been Daddy’s desk without his rhyming dictionary. Celebratory poems – be it for birthday-party invites, thank you’s or spreading holiday cheer – were his specialty.
Not a rumor was stirring on PMTV:
Production Plans hung by the forecast with care,
In hopes that the output soon would be there. The Planners were planning all snug in their beds,
While visions of Visions filled their little heads;
Harold in his Z3 drove up to the shore,
To just settle down for a long winter’s snore. When over in legal they pounded a hammer,
“The content is fine, but just look at this grammar;”
Away to revisions we flew like a flash,
Tore up the last version and filled up the trash. Ops Planning has wishes for Harold’s gift list,
For one – be more thorough so nothing gets missed;
Spend more time with lawyers all over the globe,
And please ask some questions – we love when you prove.Then another VP brought the count to eleven,
His last name was Benner, but went by St. Kevin;
More rapid than eagles HR changes came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called out each name.
“Now, Herbert! Now, Driver! And now it’s Frank Crowe,
On, Harrison! On, Hilton! Mike Postel must go;
Then Sherry McCoy and now Nancy Adams,
They won’t call a soul if we throw some more at ’em.”
The Training Police that were led by Doug Miller,
Reminded us all that QS is a killer;
When, what to our wondering eyes came last night,
Yet another e-mail with eight tiny web sites.
Our friend Lewis Cunnings went up to New York,
Had such a good time – felt like popping a cork;
The cost of each bottle made Bill Brandt pass out,
The next time he goes he gets hot dogs – no kraut.
The meeting at Keswick took many away,
Sue Townsend stayed home and she relished each day;
The Planners did struggle to choose the right words,
While Kriva smoked stogies, the rest polished turds.
Robert Johnson played cards with the boys down the hall,
His hotel room furniture was stacked by the wall;
“Let’s finish this work” cried out Lisa Nardell,
It’s not ever finished – and that’s Planner hell.
Pete Greenberg wrote highlights & planned all our space,
To see job fulfillment just look at his face;
Now there’s a new Planner they call Jimmy Moose,
Jim still loves his COMPAS and just won’t let loose.
Disposing of some, moved the rest by sheer will;
There’s one thing that’ll make them just shout out yippee,
Three round corner packers left under the tree. Vince makes commercials while Daniel makes plans,
Karen plans travel and remodels the Fan;
Graphics changes, new brands, Made In USA,
For these three folks there’s just no normal day. The bug count for Asia made Salvador ill,
The decision was made to invoke the Big Chill;
Cold-storing all products is really a pain,
The brunt of it’s fall on Cindy and Wayne. And speaking of Wayne, we can hardly let pass,
His colorful phrases – they’re always a gas;
His twists on the language confound Santa’s elves,
Like: “We’re shooting our shoes in spite of ourselves.”The forecast keeps changing to keep us confused,
Randy and Ed, well they both feel abused;
McLane is a-loading – oh, wait – no they’re not,
It’s hard to believe that nobody’s been shot.
The Symphony project’s consumed OSI,
The sound of the music makes me want to cry;
And Derrick is driving with passion and glee,
“We must have the data, for it sets you free.”
The Enterprise Design Case is really quite thick,
At two hundred pages, we’ll wait for the flick;
But Derrick’s folks haven’t had time to be slack,
They’ve moved from the MOC to the OC and back.
Another big project is called Run To Order,
It’s gone so darn well that Ron ran for the border;
The system-wide measures from Skip and from Fred,
Are so convoluted, we just scratch our head.
The budgets for R&D’s many VP’s,
Could not be accessed due to ol’ SAP;
Poor Narma and crew have one wish for St. Nick,
To get to the info with only a click.
And who is behind all this Planning so keen?
It’s Harold that runs the Ops Planning machine;
But behind every great man there’s somebody who,
Keeps everything humming – that somebody’s Sue.
We’ve poked fun at many, but not in poor taste,
It’s hard to let chances like this go to waste;
This message we send as we head out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.
Celebrating Jon 
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