Shooting the breeze, pontificating, scuttlebuttin' and swapping sea stories.

We was sitting around, sucking down black coffee and yakking. Shooting the breeze, pontificating, scuttlebuttin' and swapping sea stories. It was a typical day.

Talk got around to all of us old goats that retired or are a'fixing to retire. Heading out to greener pastures where likely as not we will be responsible for both regular and hi test automobile fuels, and the dispensing of both (into approved containers only, of course).

Some wanted a big shindig when they left. They wanted side boys and bos'n whistles and everybody decked out in their fanciest uniforms. Flags a'waving and guest speakers gushing praises. Others wanted a ceremony, but with a good deal less fanfare (good dudes to think of the rest of us). And then there was me.

I told them, in all honesty, how I see my departure going down. And to those of you who know me well, you will know this is most appropriate for me and who I am. It is truely my style. I told the group this:

"I want to get a shadow box and a parting gift from the command. I'll pack those off with my household goods. Then one day soon after that I will just not be around. No fanfare, just gone. I mean, I just kinda wandered into the navy and I'll just kinda wander on out".

Word, brother man. Word up, monkey boy.

Catarrhine, out
Travelin' Ed