Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas,but all through the land
Santa Claus wasn’t coming – from the skies he was banned

Get some tests, said the staff from the FAA
Do not fly, and go get them done right away!
For your belly is fat and your neck is too round
Surely your sleigh will fall straight to the ground!

Though Santa was healthy, with no signs of stress
His medical was revoked until he underwent a sleep test
His doctor was sorry; there’s nothing he could do
For the air surgeon had spoken: Santa would need a special issue

So Santa was grounded, kept out of the skies
Despite his safe record; perfect, besides!
Never a crash, and never a death,
In spite of the winds, ice and snow drifts,
For Santa had never so much as called the NTSB
But still – his weight, was deemed a a threat to you and me

Santa’s pleas for exception were met with a laugh
By the evil Air Surgeon and all of his staff
Who felt that Santa clearly was too fat to fly
And needed a test to keep safe you and I
At great expense Santa would have to take a sleep test
And thus reduce his flight hours from one year to the next
Reducing safety, and shrinking his load
Meaning less toys for children down the road

This poem is sad, but doesn’t have to be that way:
Right now it’s sleep tests, the issue of the day
But the rule that was written, without your comment
Could result in more rules, much to your lament
The best you can do is stand up today
And give some money to AOPA
Who is fighting these rules, for our freedom to fly
To keep you, and me, and Santa in the sky