No reason, just in sort-of honour of David Drinkell.
In the old days, like twenty years or so ago, you knew people because you, er, knew them, that is, you had beheld them with your own eyes and went to school with them, or lived in the same street, or met them at University or in the Army, or played cricket or rugby (Union) or some inferior pastime with them, or they were regulars like you at the Hare and Hounds, or (I hope that this tail end of acquaintances doesn’t indicate a pecking order) they sat near you in church. Or sang in the choir. In case any All Souls saints of old read my blog. But now we feel that we know folk whom we’ve only ever encountered in cyberspace. One might lead to the other, of course: Probably Leisa’s and my dearest friends, as the other side of the world recedes into chronological as well as geographical distance, are in this hemisphere and gained in Real Life (™) via cyber life Ship of Fools (of blessed, so far as our participation is concerned, memory). As is the way with these ramblings, what brought th