Sunday, December 21, 2014

Twas the Night Before Christmas - Arts Edition

Good morning.
"And the beat goes on………………."

Twas the Night Before Christmas (nonprofit arts version)

Taking some liberties with the original:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not an artist was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the grantmakers soon would be there;

The development directors were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of major grants danced in their heads;
And the Board Chair 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 laptop to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew for a look,
Tore open the browser and pulled up my Facebook.

The Twitter and Buzzfeed and Instagram posts
Gave a lustre of midday to all of our boasts,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,

With a little old driver so lively with thunder,
I knew in a moment he must be the Funder.
More rapid than conference goers his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Equity! now, Data! now Stability and Vixen!
On, Placemaking! on, Engagement! on, Capacity and Blitzen!
To the top of the Dress Circle! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As arts organizations 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 artworks, and St. Nicholas too—

And then, in a tweeting, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and planning my next blog,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came like a log.

He was dressed all in stage costumes, from his head to his feet
And his clothes were all tarnished like butts in the seats;
A bundle of art he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a Kickstarter just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples like a donor!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a loaner!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his beard was as long as our budgets are low;

The iPhone he held tight to his ear,
And the cries for his ending he failed to hear;
He had a little round belly that hung to his knees
And I just knew he believed in our arts advocacy.

He was chubby and plump, like a right jolly old E.D.,
And I laughed when I saw him, from what I could see;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Gave me to know my application had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, nothing was said,
But by the toys in the stockings, I knew he favored Arts Ed,
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 cry,
Like the pleas to our audiences, our tickets to buy.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
"Indigo go "Ho Ho Ho" to all, and to all a good night!”

Wishing you all Happy Holidays

Don't Quit.

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