With your knuckles at the seam of your trousers, your chin held high, and your eyes fixed in that ‘thousand-yard stare’, you can’t help but breathe deep the aroma of your well-starched uniform and cologne. The warm beach wind swirls around your legs; you can smell the driftwood that floats nearby. You find that you can truly take the time to appreciate your surroundings with your Gig Line neatly squared away.