A Programmer's version of a holiday favorite rythme:
Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,
not a programmer bit stepping, not even by mouse.
The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
with hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out in the lunch room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to wondering eyes should appear,
but a super programmer with eight shiny root beer.
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and he pursed and muttered and called functions by name.
On Update ! On Add ! On Inquiry ! On Delete !
On Batch Jobs! On Closings! On Functions! Complete!
His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
from weekends and nights in front of a screen.
A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head,
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
turning specs into code; then he turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
the system came up and worked perfectly.
The update updated; the deletes, they deleted,
the inquiries inquired, the closings completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,
with nary a glitch, all his tests went swell.
All last minute changes complete, finished, he concluded.
the users' obscure contingencies were even included.
Still t'was heard at first reviewing, users in snarl and taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"
- Anonymous
No comments:
Post a Comment