_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Now of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It leaves me only fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. -A. E. Housman
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
....
........ .
. .
. .
....... .......
............................
netstat -lp