Discussion:
A Christmas Tradition
(too old to reply)
Cosmo Foreskyn
2018-11-17 23:26:34 UTC
Permalink
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
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, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Fox's Mercantile
2018-11-17 23:33:03 UTC
Permalink
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
What happened to your usual ignorant asshole version?
--
"I am a river to my people."
Jeff-1.0
WA6FWi
http:foxsmercantile.com
Cosmo Foreskyn
2018-11-17 23:36:00 UTC
Permalink
Post by Fox's Mercantile
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
What happened to your usual ignorant asshole version?
Is that a request?
Michael Black
2018-11-21 04:02:11 UTC
Permalink
Post by Fox's Mercantile
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
What happened to your usual ignorant asshole version?
ANother year has passed? It feels like just yesterday that
you rightfully admonished him about his annual post.

Michael
Me
2018-11-23 01:27:19 UTC
Permalink
Post by Michael Black
Post by Fox's Mercantile
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
What happened to your usual ignorant asshole version?
ANother year has passed? It feels like just yesterday that
you rightfully admonished him about his annual post.
Michael
Ah, TRADITIONS. Nothing changes here, it just gets fewer and farther between.

Back to my occasional lurking :)
Fox's Mercantile
2018-11-23 01:37:52 UTC
Permalink
Post by Me
Ah, TRADITIONS. Nothing changes here, it just gets fewer and farther between.
Back to my occasional lurking :)
Go crawl back under your rock Skippy.
--
"I am a river to my people."
Jeff-1.0
WA6FWi
http:foxsmercantile.com
Me
2018-11-23 05:38:43 UTC
Permalink
Post by Fox's Mercantile
Post by Me
Ah, TRADITIONS. Nothing changes here, it just gets fewer and farther between.
Back to my occasional lurking :)
Go crawl back under your rock Skippy.
--
"I am a river to my people."
Jeff-1.0
WA6FWi
http:foxsmercantile.com
It's not a rock nor an island. It's a comfy small house. I've never been a brand of peanut butter, unless reincarnation had me as a peanut. But I'm not out standing in my field either.

Night Jeff, Merry Christmas.
Cosmo Foreskyn
2018-11-28 02:49:11 UTC
Permalink
It seems like, if it wasn't for me, this newsgroup would be vacant.
Consider the number of posts in a year.
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
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, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Someone
2018-11-29 13:46:03 UTC
Permalink
Yep, pretty much dead.

"Cosmo Foreskyn" wrote in message news:2018112721491171126-***@gmail.com...


It seems like, if it wasn't for me, this newsgroup would be vacant.
Consider the number of posts in a year.
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
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, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
John Robertson
2018-11-29 15:58:45 UTC
Permalink
"Not dead yet!"

I like the posts on old radio gear and the meetings and swap meets. I've
been interested in early radio since I first collected sets back in the
60s with a buddy when we were around 14years old. Would put ads in local
papers and people would ask us to clear out their attics of old gear.
Got some Mercury Super Tens, Norther Electrics, Radiolas, etc that we
split up between us but life got in the way of doing much than holding
onto the stuff in the intervening years.

Someday I hope to get to Kurtztown!

I have a nice small collection of early 20s battery sets that I was
planning on restoring once I retired, but my main business is too much
fun so it appears retirement is not in my immediate (or foreseeable for
that matter) future - after all I'm only 67 and I enjoy going to work!

John :-#)#
Post by Someone
Yep, pretty much dead.
It seems like, if it wasn't for me, this newsgroup would be vacant.
Consider the number of posts in a year.
Post by Cosmo Foreskyn
A Visit from St. Nicholas
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
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, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
--
(Please post followups or tech inquiries to the USENET newsgroup)
John's Jukes Ltd.
MOVED to #7 - 3979 Marine Way, Burnaby, BC, Canada V5J 5E3
(604)872-5757 (Pinballs, Jukes, Video Games)
www.flippers.com
"Old pinballers never die, they just flip out."
Terry S
2018-11-30 19:35:29 UTC
Permalink
I'm still here too, and I count myself -- right or wrong -- among the old timers of the group. And I'm glad you are still launching pinballs, John!

I still go to meets, although not as many as I used too, life gets in the way more now. My collection numbers in the several hundreds of tube sets and damn near as many transistors. I seldom add sets any more. No room.

I have concluded that like everything else, radios are just "things", and too many things are just burdensome. Time to downscale as retirement approaches in a few years. I'd rather keep a few nice sets than have a whole workshop full of $40 bakelites that are really worth $10 now.

So come the big spring meet, I may load up the truck with the first round of the swap meet fodder and see if there is any interest. Or maybe I'll have a garage sale for the club members.... Once I get a round tuit.
Post by John Robertson
"Not dead yet!"
I like the posts on old radio gear and the meetings and swap meets. I've
been interested in early radio since I first collected sets back in the
60s with a buddy when we were around 14years old. Would put ads in local
papers and people would ask us to clear out their attics of old gear.
Got some Mercury Super Tens, Norther Electrics, Radiolas, etc that we
split up between us but life got in the way of doing much than holding
onto the stuff in the intervening years.
Someday I hope to get to Kurtztown!
I have a nice small collection of early 20s battery sets that I was
planning on restoring once I retired, but my main business is too much
fun so it appears retirement is not in my immediate (or foreseeable for
that matter) future - after all I'm only 67 and I enjoy going to work!
John :-#)#
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