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‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a computer was whirring, no one clicked on a mouse.
The stock shares were hung, all framed with such care,
in memory of stock splits, now worth not a penny to spare.

The children were nestled, all snug in their beds,
visions of Monsters & Hogwarts dancing ‘round in their heads.
The wife studied her Journal, the cat purred on my lap,
side by side on the couch, we checked market caps.

When there on C-1, the Heard on the Street,
ran an article that said, in '01, QQQ went down to defeat.
Away to my Barron’s in a wireless broadband flash,
I tore open MW, to confirm tech’s great crash.

The facts of the matter no one could deny,
distant highs on the NASDAQ, could make big boys cry.
A cartoon in the corner brought to my eyes a small tear,
pictured there, a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rendeer.

At the helm the driver's belly looked suspiciously thick,
but when you came down to it he looked like old St. Nick.
Investors held hope for the famed Santa Claus rally he’d bring,
after a year when only the shorts could--and Oh Boy!--did they sing:

Now Enron! Now @home! Now Pet.com, and Flooz!
On ePod! On eToys! On PlanetRx! were V.C.'s fooled?
To the scrap heap of dot.coms—one after another you fell.
Where were the analysts supposed to tell us to sell?

As put volume soars before monster rallies are nigh,
it was bond analysts, who managed to fly to the sky
This fall, to the depths, the NASDAQ did sink,
far below levels the strategists led investors to think.

But then in a twinkling, I heard in my head,
forget 'bout retirement, years of work still ahead .
As I drew in my breath and was turning around,
Harry Potter appeared without making a sound.

With glasses so round, and a magical wand he could yield,|
children and adults flocked to his film like a Eiking's shield.
Tax rebates and rate cuts didn't accomplish the right fix,
while Congress did splinter, so no stimulation plan yet exists.

The tragedy that each day becomes a little less of an open sore
banished Condit headlines and gave Bush final victory over Gore.
Despite mangled English and vocabulary quite limiting,
Chief Bush at the helm even comedians aren't imitating

So to heck with anthrax, the economy 's still pricked,
Greenspan lost the aura of perfect doctor of risk.
After years of aggressively talking the bull market down,
success brought recession, and his career nearly drowned

Forget missed soft-landings, accept birth sans silver spoon,
‘Cause money flows and earnings, not just rates still call the tune.
Now head home for the holiday with spirit and love,
Keep your sights on the goal--a world of peace doves.

The FAA has cleared Santa's sleigh to ake off on it's way,
a brand New Year remains only mere days away.
Be happy '01 is about to vanish from sight.
'02 will be better, hopefully free of another BinLaden fright.

So I close with a reminder to keep your perspective,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.

© Sandi Lynne 2001

*Barron’s and The Wall Street Journal are registered trademarks of Dow Jones & Company, Inc.. Heard on the Street refers to editorial content appearing regularly in The Wall Street Journal, published by Dow Jones.

Sandi Lynne is the publisher of www.WallStreetInAdvance.com, a website dedicated to event-driven trading. Extensive publishing credits include the Sunday New York Times.

’Twas the Night Before Christmas is adapted from "A Visit From St. Nicholas," written by Clement Clarke Moore, over two hundred years ago.