| 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. Card. 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" |
| The Sailor |