When Tam graces a fellow's thoughts with a link and kind words , the readership curve goes vertical, and I like to browse through the site meter to see where some of these new readers are.
I was especially taken with a hit from UTC + 3, which is the sand box, The origin was a net openly identified with the United States Navy, and I picture a tired sailor in a dim compartment, braced in his work chair against the chop of a shallow sea, taking a moment to look in on the rest of the world and divert his mind from the dreariness of a sea warrior's environment.
Which, as older guys say too often, takes me back. Years ago I spent most of Advent aboard a pitching little ship on an Asian sea and Christmas itself among throngs of people speaking a strange and chattering tongue, people to whom it was just another day. To a man -- boy, really -- raised in the American tradition it was disorienting and disheartening. To be homesick at Christmas is to have a real disease.
And so, Unknown Visitor, I wish you the strength to endure the season in your haze-gray box and an early return to the land of your parents. Merry Christmas, Mate.