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A Poem for Diane
Twas the Night Before Installation (from Kitty's Daily Mews archives) 'Twas the night befor installation And all through the shop, Not a program was working It sure was a flop. The programmers hung by their tubes in despair, In the hopes that a miracle soon would be there. The users were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of enquiries danced in their heads. When out in the hall there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a super programmer (with a six-pack of beer). Her resume glowed with experience so rare, She turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair. More rapid than eagles, Her programs they came, And she whistled and shouted and called them by name: On Update! On Add! On Inquirey! On Delete! On Batch Jobs! On Closing! On Functions Complete! Her eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean, From weekends and nights in front of a screen. A wink of her eye, and a twist of her head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. She spoke not a word, But went straight to her work, Turning specs into code; Then turned with a jerk; And laying a finger upon the "Enter" key, The system came up and worked perfectly. The updates updated; the deletes deleted; the inquiries inquired, and closing completed. She tested each whistle, and tested each bell With nary an abend, and all had gone well. The system was finished, the test were concluded. The user's last changes were even included. And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt, "It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!!!" ![]() |
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