Merry Christmas

[simplyconnected]

Even Santa Claus shares the joy of Christmas with Thunderbird and full size Ford cars and trucks.
I hope your Thanksgiving was great.
Love this picture...


SantaTbird.jpg
Santa Painting Cars
by artist: Tom Newsom

[Pat in Ma]

Great picture Dave, Thanks for sharing and do you know the artist by chance?

[simplyconnected]

Great picture Dave, Thanks for sharing and do you know the artist by chance?

I understand this picture has been around for many years. It was also made into a jigsaw puzzle. BTW, I replaced the old picture. - Dave

EDIT: I found some more information on Tom Newsom. He was born in '44 and his art reveals his love for engineering and Christmas. CLICK HERE for a link to some of his Santa/motorcycle illustrations. Here's another with Santa on a hard-tail (Knuckle-head) Harley. I think they are fabulous.

[Dan Leavens]

Nice pic Mr. Dare.

[Pat in Ma]

Hi Dave,

Thanks for the link and info, some very cool pictures for sure.

[YellowRose]

Today is our Tbird Club Christmas Party, and Tweety 2's first one to go to. She is all cleaned up, polished and ready to be shown off. There will be Club members who will be seeing her for the first time. I am wearing my new Tbird Club shirt with the picture of my 2017 Triple Yellow Mustang, Tweety 2 on my back! Here is an early Christmas greeting to all. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy 2020!

[Dan Leavens]

As the holiday season is fast approaching, I would like to wish all our worldwide squarebirds.org members / guests a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. To you and yours from me and mine all the very best over the holidays

[YellowRose]

The Pilot's Night before Christmas:

'Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,

Not an airplane was stirring, not Comanche, nor Champ.

The fuel trucks nestled, all snug in their spots,

While north wind was gusting to 49 knots.



The aircraft were fastened to tie downs with care

In hopes that come morning, they'd all still be there.

And I at the fuel desk, duties caught up,

just settled down with my coffee in cup



When over the radio, came such a clatter

I turned down the squelch to see what's the matter.

A voice clearly heard over static and snow

Asked for clearance to land at the airport below.



He made his transmissions both lively and quick

And I'm sure that the call sign he used was "Saint Nick."

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Sure that it was only Horizon's late Dash.



I peered at the sky seeking Nav lights on sled

I saw only one at the front it was red!

He called his position, and I heard him say,

"St. Nicholas here, inbound on my sleigh!"

He flew the approach, on glideslope he came,

As as he passed fixes, he called them by name

"Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now FAF Bacon!

On Comet! On Cupid!" (what pills was he takin?)

The last of those fixes were bound to confuse,


So the Tower called me to deliver their views

The message they gave was both urgent and dour

"When Santa Claus lands, HE WILL PLEASE CALL THE TOWER!"

He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking,

With "Exit at Charlie," and "Taxi to parking."


He stepped from the sleigh, but before he could talk,

I had run out to give him my very last chock.

He was dressed all in fur, which was covered with frost

And his beard was all blackened from chimney exhaust.

His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale

And he smoked on a pipe (but he didn't inhale).

He had a broad face, his armpits were smelly,

His boots were as black as a crop duster's belly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old fool,


And, smiling, informed me he needed some "fuel".

A wink of his eye and a turn on his toes,

He left for the washroom to powder his nose.

As he departed I wondered and saw

That my challenge was finding a fuel called......straw.

I thought for a while about passing this test

Then remembered a 'plane had arrived from out West

Just full of supplies for a stable quite near

The freight warehouse must contain straw for the deer!

So I went to the warehouse and warnings unheeded

Found and brought back what the nine reindeer needed.


When I got to the sleigh Santa beamed with relief,

Then went for a phone for a flight-service brief.

And I thought, as he silently wrote in his log,

That with Rudolph, he could land in a one-eighth-mile fog.

He finished his preflight, from front to the rear,


Then on with his headset. I heard him yell "Clear!"

And laying gloved finger upon his push-talk,

He called up the tower for clearance and squawk.

"Straight out on three-zero," the tower called forth,

"And watch for a Cessna inbound from the North."

I heard him exclaim, as he climbed in the night,

"Happy Christmas to all!....I have traffic in sight."