Yeah. Back in 1957 when I was accepted for org membership, we had to belly-crawl naked uphill 4 miles, over barbed wire and broken glass, both ways, just to pick up the rusty campbell's soup can attached to 4 thousand miles of commo wire to Holland... just to hear TosaInu pronounce "Ja mata".
And we liked it. A lot.
Everything more than that = gravy.
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