The tradition continues… (With apologies to Clement C. Moore)
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through town,
Not a taxpayer was stirring, they all sported frowns.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon could be snared.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of tax dollars dance in their parents’ heads.
Mamma in her ‘kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down trying to figure out a new app.
When out on the lawn there arose such madness,
I sprang from the table to source this badness.
Away to the window I flew in a flurry,
Ah, that 40 Creek whisky made my eyes a bit blurry.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday, I had a bit of a glow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But that big ol’ red elf and his herd of reindeer.
With a tricked out ride so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I’d have to act quick.
More rapid than eagles his reindeer had game,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name;
“Now, Bentley! Now, Mullins! Now, Wilson and Seaborn! On, Berry! On Dunstall! On, Johnston and DiFlavio!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now wake up you people,
It’s no time to bawl!
As the leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
I knew this was my chance, he could not be that spry.
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
I knew in a moment exactly what to do.
My Christmas wish had to come true, it was no spoof;
Santa’s help I needed, this was no goof!
Cost-overruns, bad decisions and wasted dollars had me wound,
I needed help from the man who came down the chimney with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toes,
It was simple to tell he was no average Joe.
A bundle of gifts sprawled from his sack.
Toy biodigesters for all…it nearly made me yak!
His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry?
That would change when he knows that thing is super scary.
First it cost $3.5 million to build but now up to eight.
It if doesn’t make money, it could seal Grimsby’s fate.
The services of Kris Kringle were needed, indeed;
Or the Town’s finances will continue a slow bleed.
Secrecy, bad governance and overspending is common,
It’s close to all over, except for the amen.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
This was more interesting than anything on the telly.
He was chubby and plump a right jolly old elf,
I laughed when I saw it was Dave Kadwell, himself!
A wink of his eye and twist of his head,
Soon gave me know to know his fight was not dead.
He spoke not a word to his work he had turned,
Not a bio gift was given, in the fireplace they burned.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
“That’s the last of them,” he said, and up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
He headed toward the Sobie Road site like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight –
Merry Christmas to all when the biodigester is dead, am I right?”
* * * * * *
Oh ya, you’re right, Santa.
Two years overdue and counting; project cost projections that started at $3.5 million but were bumped to $4.5 million before the thing got off the ground and have now been estimated by former Grimsby Energy Board chair James Detenbeck to hit $8 million. It won’t stop there. And two years of the projected $350,000 in annual profits have been lopped off the bottom line.
So the 20-year FIT contract, which is supposed to net $7 million in profits, at the most would net $2.8 million over the remaining 18 years – with cost-overruns and loss of two years of profits deducted, and that is if things go smoothly and costs stick to the projected $8 million. Good luck with that.
* * * * * *
Another year has clicked by and this is my chance to wish our dedicated readers and advertisers a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!