Twas a night near Christmas**

Twas a night near Christmas**
And all cross the net,
nary a Hobbesian was posting,
Most threads were at rest.

In jamas I was surfing,
Without  worry or care,
on a Mac free of virus
or zombie malware.

I went for my email.
When what should appear,
"A post from Bill at Santana",
Talking about some new gear.

New bits formed in carbon
for under the tree?
Or finally a disc
that's maintenance free?

Or of Scandium, or Nobium,
with Imron that glistens.
All delivered in prose,
That sets tempers sizzlen.

So why do he do it?
Raising such ire?
Fore the night is over,
T@H flames are a afire.

"Your tests are too demanding
and unrealistic,
I use brand X,
So I am going ballistic!"

"Tandems for masses,
Are way to generic,
It only takes training,
Quit striving for perfect!"

But type on he does,
Bill knows what he knows,
He's put thousands of tandems,
On six continents of roads.

He's not always perfect,
But more right than not.
He's survived a free market,
Where competition is hot.

The man is driven by passion,
To deliver a fine tandem,
with a real concern,
for the teams riding on them.

The night wore on,
The flames became embers.
"It's about riding!"
Someone finally remembers.

The days will grow longer,
Soon winter will end,
On rides, not typing,
Our spare time we'll spend.

And after the summer,
Let's not forget,
Twas a night near Christmas**
And all cross the net. . .


** or please insert holiday of choice

The best to all of you across the years and miles.

-- 
Jay Hardcastle
Carmel, IN USA

One tandem, 
three stokers
too many singles
all out-of-phase