Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/12/2013 (891 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and in a PR house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The writing was done, no messaging to make
In hopes that communicators could now get a break.
The clients were happy, nestled snug in their beds,
While visions of good headlines danced in their heads.
And the PR gurus, with phones not making a peep
Decided to finally put their laptops to sleep.
When out in the world there was so much chatter,
They sprang to their phones to see what was the matter.
A new client had problems and needed a hand
No one believed him, they doubted his brand.
The client was riding an enviro-friendly sleigh
He winked and said, "The kids like it that way."
The little old driver was lively and quick,
"How ya doing," he said. "You can call me St. Nick."
My troubles are terrible, he said with a grin
Some people are afraid, they won't let me in
At one time I was so very much adored
Now people, they look, and think I'm Rob Ford.
Now graphics! Now, video! Now, releases and polls!
On, websites! On, TV! We'll fill all the holes!
To the networks we go to quiet the squall!
Now write away! Write away! Write away all!"
And then, in a twinkling, it happened quite quick
People remembered he's really St. Nick
The messaging worked, he said with some glee
People see, with a beard, Rob Ford looks like me.
Indeed, he would, with the pipe in his teeth,
And the smoke that encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a giant round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
St. Nick paid the bill and went back to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk
And what did he leave under the agency tree
But eight new contracts and one RFP.
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!"
Author Clement Clarke Moore, Dec. 23, 1823; Troy New York Sentinel, USA. Recrafted by George Stephenson and Shirley Muir, the PRHouse, Winnipeg, Canada, 2013