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Merry Christmas - 2011
Yes Virginia there is a non-rev “Night before Christmas”.
A Christmas tradition here in the forum
--with apologies to Clement C. Moore
Enjoy…. and Merry Christmas
The Night before Christmas-(Non-rev variation)
'Twas days before Christmas and there at the gate,
not a non-rev was stirring, all could but wait.
All held boarding passes securely in hand,
hoping against hope they wouldn't have to change plans.
When out on the tarmac I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew in a flash,
but slipped on spilled coffee and hit my head on the glass.
When what to my blurring eyes should appear,
but a blue maintenance truck, decorated with eight tiny reindeer.
With a driver so handsome so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be a licensed mec-han-ic.
More rapid than eagles his comrades they came,
and he whistled and shouted, and called them by name:
"On, Mikey! On, RJ, On Howie and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On Donder and Blitzen!"
To the left and the right to the undercarriage they flew,
in the steady advance of a well-practiced crew.
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
and changed tire and brake then turned with a jerk.
Then quick as they came, his accomplices they rose,
"ready to roll Captain" were the words that he chose.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas fellow non-revs and have a good flight."
http://nonrev.net/attachments/open-d...windy-ride-jpg
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Tis The Season http://bestsmileys.com/christmas5/16.gif
Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened to tiedowns with care,
In hopes that come morning, they all would be there.
The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.
When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land at the airport below.
He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
I'd have sworn that the call sign he used was "St. Nick".
I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
The better to welcome this magical flight.
He called his position, no room for denial,
"St. Nicholas One, turnin' left onto final."
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Rutan-built sleigh, with eight Rotax Reindeer!
With vectors to final, down the glideslope he came,
As he passed all fixes, he called them by name:
"Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun!
On Comet! On Cupid!" What pills was he takin'?
While controllers were sittin', and scratchin' their head,
They phoned to my office, and I heard it with dread,
The message they left was both urgent and dour:
"When Santa pulls in, have him please call the tower."
He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking,
Then I heard "Left at Charlie," and "Taxi to parking."
He slowed to a taxi, turned off of three-oh
And stopped on the ramp with a "Ho, ho-ho-ho..."
He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk,
I ran out to meet him with my best set of chocks.
His red helmet and goggles were covered with frost
And his beard was all blackened from Reindeer exhaust.
His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale,
And he puffed on a pipe, but he didn't inhale.
His cheeks were all rosy and jiggled like jelly,
His boots were as black as a cropduster's belly.
He was chubby and plump, in his suit of bright red,
And he asked me to "fill it, with hundred low-lead."
He came dashing in from the snow-covered pump,
I knew he was anxious for drainin' the sump.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And I filled up the sleigh, but I spilled like a jerk.
He came out of the restroom, and sighed in relief,
Then he picked up a phone for a Flight Service brief.
And I thought as he silently scribed in his log,
These reindeer could land in an eighth-mile fog.
He completed his pre-flight, from the front to the rear,
Then he put on his headset, and I heard him yell, "Clear!"
And laying a finger on his push-to-talk,
He called up the tower for clearance and squawk.
"Take taxiway Charlie, the southbound direction,
Turn right three-two-zero at pilot's discretion"
He sped down the runway, the best of the best,
"Your traffic's a Grumman, inbound from the west."
Then I heard him proclaim, as he climbed thru the night,
"Merry Christmas to all! I have traffic in sight."
