'Twas the night before Christmas, there in Schaffhausen-Town
As the watchmakers scurried to the station downtown
To St. Gallen with stops on the Local they’d head
Thru Neuhausen, Winterthur, to a party, they said
Yes, a party tonight for the Time-Tickers staff
Who had met all the quotas Kern charted on graphs
But tonight it was over ‘til a new year arrived
A much welcomed relief for those who survived
“How many damn watches do they think we can make?
How many more Princes do they think we can take?
All those tiny small parts, Le Petit is so true
In my dreams all I see is the color of blue”
The Night Before Once Again Another IWC Christmas* 2015
“What about me man, what about me?
I'm stuffing the guts in Big Pilots, you see.
Big heavy cases and springs so damn long
By the time I wind one, half the day is but gone!”
“You guys know nothing and you've nothing on me
Hell, I install parts that I can't even see
They are specks on the table and my driver’s so small
I'm in Tourbillon Hell, 2nd door down the hall”
“Well I want repeaters, you listen to me
He’ll give me repeaters or I’m gone, you will see”
“You can’t do repeaters with an ear made of tin
They’d make such a racket, we’d sell none again”
“Well, I’m sick of that jeweling, all those sizes to choose
Some are ok, others easy to lose
I spend half of my day down on my knees
Looking for crap so the pinions won’t freeze”
“You’re a Clocker my friend, those big fingers so round,
You should take up clock making where the parts weigh a pound”
Then out the front door there arose such a fuss,
That the Tickers all squealed, “It’s the Company bus!”
“He’s here, stop your bitchin’”, said a Ticker with glee!
“Kurt Klaus has arrived and he’s sitting with me!”
So in strolled the Master, his eyes lit so bright
As the Tickers all gathered to behold this fine sight
“I’ll have me a dram, and I’ll sit for a spell
And if you would like, I will tell you a tale”
“What was it like Master, back in the day?”
“Mostly hard work, I guess I would say.
It was slide rules and pencils and blueprints and boards
And tools made by hand out of plowshares and swords”
“Your repeaters were dreams and tourbillons too
For few had the means to make even those screws
The Da Vinci was born with these tools long since gone
The mathematics alone kept me up till the dawn”
So as the night wafted thin, he regaled them with tales
That lifted their hearts and refilled their sails
And when upon leaving, he so relished this sight, exclaiming,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Goodnight!”
* Based on the Clement Clarke Moore poem first published 23 December 1823 as “A Visit from St. Nicholas"
Copyright © 2015