Twas the week before Christmas on the Canadian prairie,
As we sat in our living room in a mood most merry.
My artist wife sitting in her blue easy chair,
Knowing I was still hung up on her unicorn hair.
Our daughter was nestled all snug in her bed,
While dreams of Kandinsky danced in her head.
And our son lay asleep on his pillow, his mouth curled in a smirk,
Dreaming about Griffey, Jeter, and Ripken, definitely not artwork.
When down in our basement there arose such a clatter,
I jumped off our couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Down through the basement landing, a very mad dash.
The second coat of white paint had long since dried,
But it was a nice contrast to the Christmas decorations beside.
When, what to my wondering ears did ring,
But a familiar sound followed by that annoying “Ping!”
With a flash of its screen, so neat and slick,
I knew in that moment I was going to be sick.
Despite a three-part trilogy, it continued to drive me mad.
And it persisted in making a racket, that magical iPad.
“This screen is so good, the colors are vibrant,” Apple touted.
“A simple tool, leading its field, and its power undoubted.”
It was a magnificent effort in upselling to the modern-day thinker.
So much so, that my artist wife bought it hook, line and sinker.
As I continued to bemoan the iPad purchase, cha ching.
My wife’s proverbial cash register continued to ring.
Despite my magical misgivings, her business had done a record year,
And this piece of tech, thinner than a pencil, had bolstered her art career.
As I moved the blasted device into her art studio,
A small idea, in my head, began to grow.
Oh, the most glorious things this idea might spur,
Indeed, it might be the prescription to break my tech fever.
No, it wouldn’t be SNL’s spoof of Blue Oyster Cult,
More cowbell certainly would not be the result.
But it was still Christmas and merry was the mood,
It was time, alas, for me to end this grinch-like feud.
That screen — how it twinkled and sparkled, it’s pixels so clear,
This idea would take longer than my time at the Van Gogh cashier.
Then, all of a sudden, my eyes lit up like thousands of lights.
Yes, that was it, that’s how I would take this idea to grand heights.
Still in the studio, I placed the iPad in the cleanest space,
And breezed up the stairs with a quirky look on my face.
My artist wife, still sitting in her blue easy chair,
Looked up, but of my idea, she was very much unaware.
You see, it was about time this vendetta was behind me.
So, I pulled out our laptop and sat at the foot of our tree.
I pulled up a classic Christmas tale through a Google search,
And feverishly pecked at the keys from my comfortable perch.
My grand idea was to create my own classic tale so complete,
That my unbounded animosity would be rendered obsolete.
And so, here you’ve sat, spending much of your time,
Reading, what turns out to be, a cathartic rhyme.
To Apple, I say, “Your absurd pricing is dismissed,”
Because I’m quite in love, I’m married to an artist.
And as the extent of this poetic holiday rip-off becomes clear,
I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!