|Between the security of childhood and the insecurity
of second childhood. We find a fascinating group
of humanity called, collectively The Sailor. The
Sailor comes in assorted sizes, weight and sobriety.
They can be found anywhere, on ships, at shore
stations, in bars, on leaves, in love and the
government supports them.
The Sailor is laziness with a deck of cards, bravery
with a tattooed arm and the protector of the high
seas with a copy of Playboy.
The Sailor has the energy of a turtle, the slyness of
a fox, the brains of an idiot, the stories of a sea
captain, the sincerity of a liar, the tenderness of a
Casanova and when he wants something it is
usually connected with a liberty card.
The Sailor likes women, girls, females and the
opposite sex. He dislikes answering letters, wearing
his uniforms, his supervisors, officers, division
chief, the chow, and getting up on time.
No one else can cram into one jumper pocket a little
black book, a comb, some change, locker keys, a
pack of cigarettes and his liberty card and I.D.
The Sailor likes to spend his money on women, girls
females and the opposite sex. He likes to spend
some on poker and the rest foolishly.
A Sailor is a magic creature that you can lock out
of your home but not out of your heart. You can
scratch him off your mailing list but not out of
your mind. He's your long away from home lover,
your husband, your son or your sweetheart. Your
blurry eyed good for nothing bundle of worry. All
your shattered dreams become insignificant when
your sailor comes home with a tender and loving
phrase that has lasted for years................................
"Hi Ya Honey"