T’was the night before Christmas,
and all through the watch world,
Not a watchmaker was stirring;
No Machines whirled
The tools were all placed on the benches with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The collectors were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of tourbillons danced in their heads;
Computer still on, I in my thinking cap,
Had just settled on skipping that long winter’s nap.
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tripping over my dog who lays sleeping alas.
The wind whipping wildly and threatening snow,
Gave a luster to watches that in my head were a glow.
When nothing else to my wondering eyes did appear,
No miniature sleigh, or eight tiny reindeer,
No a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I returned to my writing and forgot old St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, my watch words came,
And I rattled the keyboard and called them by name:
“Now, Dior! Now Dubey!
Now Patek and Vacheron!
On, Concord and Corum!
On DeWitt and Bovet!
To the top of the page,
To the story so tall,
Should I post away, post away
Post away all!
Shall I write of watch news, of products, of time?
Or shall I tell readers of new technology sublime?
I thought of the brands and all they create –
Of master thinkers and how they innovate.
I thought of the watchmakers who craft with perfection –
Their main idea — cutting-edge new direction.
Should I write of the thinkers, the doers, the leaders?
Should I write of their products, their causes, their readers?
Oh, the pace in the watch world as rapid as ever,
I am blessed to be part of this massive endeavor.
And as I strived to conceive of the perfect feature for the day,
Somehow the hours whiled away.
With my passion for watches lighting my way,
I decided to write about Christmas Eve Day.
And then I was jolted by my kids and my dog,
“Stop writing, now. Everyone’s done for today reading the blog!”
So I close the computer, and bid my adieu
And end with a very Merry Christmas to you.
— Roberta Naas