Thank you to all of the Greentown Labs members who attended this year’s holiday party! We are very thankful for each of our companies and are looking forward to an amazing 2015.
Special thanks to Sarah Haig for this year’s holiday poem, enjoy!
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when at GTL
Not a creature was stirring, nor playing free cell
The hammock was hung by Altaeros with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The Grove plants were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of ladybugs danced in their heads;
And Refresh with their Bevi, NBD-Nano with their bugs,
Cleaned up re-brewed coffee, and filled up their mugs
When out in the prototyping space there arose such a clatter,
We all sprang from our desks to see what was the matter.
Away to the loading dock we flew like a flash,
Tore open the garage door, it went up with a crash.
The moon on the neon of Market Basket’s sign
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects divine,
When, what sight our wondering eyes did seize,
But an angel investor, and eight investees
He was a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than prototypes his companies came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, CoolChip! Sol Power! now, RailPod now SubSea!
Crowd Comfort! on Loci! on, Dynamo, Tank Utility!
To the top of the market! to an IPO on Wall (street)
Now cash away! cash away! cash away all!”
So past the machine shop the companies flew,
With a quick safety audit of Rise and Embue.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The towing of overnight cars (they’ve no proof!)
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the stairwell St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He knocked over the bikes crowded there in the cage
And his clothes were all tarnished with grease and road rage;
A bundle of Sponsors he had flung on his back,
And he glued their names onto the wall with a smack
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his jobs,
And ran the dishwasher, pacified wi-fi mobs
And then laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, out the courtyard he goes;
And I heard him exclaim, ere he took reigns in hands both
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all, hockey stick growth.”
– A poem by Sarah Haig, Silverside Detectors