It was going to be a good day. It was a perfect day for a long run on the beach, a hot shower, and then college football on television. San Diego State was on in the morning and USC was the afternoon game. I strapped on my running shoes, headed out the back door of my house, and turned south. I hit the five-mile mark and turned back for home. The run cleared out the cobwebs and by mile eight, I had completely forgotten about the last week of work. La Jolla was great this time of the year. Half the country had snow, and I'm running on the beach in shorts.
I grabbed a quick shower and threw on some pants, a polo shirt, and a pair of Topsiders and headed for Tequila Joe's. By the time I got to Tequila Joe's, San Diego State was already one touchdown ahead. I liked this place. It had four large televisions with a different game on each one, good food, and the waitresses were friendly (and not too hard on the eyes). Margo was my favorite. Cute, compact, and she always had a smile for this old guy. She was way too young and I had no intentions with her. But just having a warm smile made my weekend better. I spent many a Saturday here watching football, and a few Sundays too.
San Diego State was in control, moving the ball well and scoring. The defense was holding too. My chicken salad lunch was history and I had just ordered my second beer. San Diego State was driving to another score when he walked in. I didn't see him, but he saw me. He walked directly to my table. When he arrived at my table I noticed him with surprise. He then said the words that I had hoped never to hear again.
The words rocked me. At one time it brought such joy to hear those very words, but those days were long gone. Now, those words just cut. I looked at the boy. Heck, he wasn't a boy anymore. He is over twenty-one by now. It had been five long years since I had last seen him. Robert was a gangly sixteen when I left and just starting to shave. He had grown some. He had matured and filled out with muscle. He was a young man now.
I said " Hello Robert"
"Tell me why", he hissed
I had practiced hundreds of times, staring at hundreds of sunsets, what I would say if this meeting ever happened, but I could not remember the words now. I looked at Robert. He had anger in his eyes. He stood with clenched fists and his knuckles were white. I realized that if I stood, he would probably knock me down, so I stayed seated. I felt true sorrow for the boy. I didn't want to hurt him. Hell, I had hurt him enough. He and his brothers must have had a difficult time for the last half-decade.
I said the only thing that I could think of, the truth, "I'm not your father."
"What?" he said
"I am assuming you are asking why I left you, your brothers, and your mother five years ago. The reason is because I'm not your father."
That stunned him, confused him and he relaxed his fists. His face displayed confusion and I could tell that statement was rocking his world. Missing pieces were falling into place. I stood up and guided him into the chair. Looking at him, I could see his world crumbling, just as mine did five years ago.
I called Margo over and ordered a couple of beers. At one time, I had fantasies of just this. Sharing a beer with my son, but this wasn't what I envisioned.
"How? What?" was all he could say.
I looked him in the eyes and started. "I'll start at the beginning. It was the first day of high school when your mother and I met. It was second period science lab. She just moved to Denver from Oklahoma and was new to the school. She was the last person into the lab and the only open seat was next to me. Nobody wanted to sit next to me because I had a reputation for being one of the smart kids. Kids never associated with the smart kids and never wanted to sit next to them. Sandy, as the new girl, got stuck next to me. I could not have been happier. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen." She was tall and blond. Those were two of my favorite attributes. She was slim with small breasts, but she filled out her sweater quite nicely. She looked at me and gave me a smile that melted my heart. From that moment on, I was hooked.
The science class was tough and Mr. Rothenberg was a hard grader. Sandy was smart, but math and science were not her best subjects. Since we were lab partners, I tutored her and had to help her through that class. We studied in the library twice a week. For some unknown reason she seemed to like me. We hit it off well and quickly became inseparable. She passed with a strong "B". During that year, we became best friends. In our sophomore year, we had three classes together. I helped her through math, and she helped me through composition. That year, we had biology together. We both blushed during the sex education discussion and after that class, I kissed her. It was my first kiss.
Through the rest of high school we were a couple. We went to every football game, every dance, and every party together. It was after Homecoming of our junior year that we gave our virginity to each other. It was in the backseat of my father's car parked near our old little league field. I was clumsy and awkward. She was perfect. It was the most fun I had ever had. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
Our senior year we had a crisis. I was accepted to attend MIT in Boston. We did not want to be separated, so we worked hard and got her accepted to Boston College. We graduated from high school and had a wonderful summer together. That fall, we packed up and moved to Boston together. We rented a small apartment near her school and I commuted to Cambridge for my classes. I had a scholarship for my tuition and we took out school loans for Sandy's. Our parents kicked in with rent and food money. We were young, in love, and happy.
My school was tough. I had to study every night and a lot of the weekends. They expected a lot and I wanted to be at the top of my class. Sandy did not have the same workload or commitment. She was there to get a degree, be with me, and have fun. We were in love and making love at every opportunity. It was here that your mother developed her social attitude. Sandy developed a close group of friends, both female and male. At the time, I didn't think a thing about it. She loved to have friends around and be the center of their attention. She was always very friendly with everyone.
We spent each summer back home and drove east each fall. The four years flew by. I graduated with my degree in Aeronautical Engineering and Sandy got a bachelors degree in History.
We came home to Denver and our parents threw us a great welcome home party. All our friends were there. It was there that I got down on my knees and proposed to your mother. Everybody already knew that we were going to get married, but this was the official event. She cried and quickly said yes.
After the party we spent the whole night making love. Sometimes, Sandy was insatiable. This was one of those times. I could hardly walk the next day." I avoided the details. No boy wants to hear explicit details of his mother's sex life.
"Before graduation, I had sent out some job applications and talked to some companies at job fairs. Now that I had my degree, I set out to get a real job. I interviewed with a couple of places and they said they wanted me. But, it would have required us to move. Sandy and I wanted to stay around Denver. She wanted to stay close to her friends and her family. I got an offer from Telluride Technologies in their aircraft design unit and I accepted. I started out at the bottom, but quickly grasped the process and got promoted to a team leader. They had a contract with Boeing and we were doing some of their design work. We were working on some cutting edge stuff and my MIT education helped a lot.
Sandy was working at an insurance company doing medical billing. It was not difficult work for her, but she didn't mind. She was planning a wedding and was very preoccupied. She stayed busy with her friends and co-workers.
The months flew by and the next thing we knew, we were standing at the altar. We were married in a beautiful ceremony in your grandmother's backyard. All our families, your grandparents, and all our co-workers and were there. It was a wonderful day. I still have memories of that day. You have seen the pictures. I thought that she was the best thing to ever happen to me. Boy, for being an MIT grad, I sure was clueless. We got a little apartment and set up house."
Robert was absorbing all this. I'm sure that he had heard these stories before, but now he was listening closely. Listening for some of the pieces missing from his personal puzzle.
I continued, "At work, I was getting noticed. One day, I got called into the boss' office and he asked me if I wanted to move to a new unit. There were a couple of other men with us. I thought it was strange that my boss never introduced us. Later, I found out that they were from the Government. Way up high in the Air Force. I asked a couple of questions about what we would be working on, but he just deflected the questions. He did not give me any clue what the future would be, but he just said that I would enjoy it and there would be a raise. I said yes. I filled out a bunch of forms from the two guys. I went home and told Sandy that I just got promoted and we celebrated.
The next Monday, I showed up at work and they gave me a flight report on a project called Have Blue. I was to begin work on some new technologies for the Air Force. Technically, the words we used were that we were working on reducing the cross-sectional radar signatures while increasing fight capabilities. Today we call this work stealth. It was all very secret work. It was fun, but it took a toll on Sandy and me.
Sandy supported me and we made love at every chance. She never turned me down. But some nights I had to work late and she had to entertain herself. She had a group of friends from work and she would stop on the way home from work to have a couple of drinks. I didn't worry. I had met most of the co-workers and they were a mostly an ok bunch. By the time I got home, she was waiting for me, usually in something sexy. Looking back, I probably should have paid closer attention.
Three months into my new job, Sandy called me at work and told me she was pregnant. I was ecstatic. I was going to be a father. I called my mom, sister, and everybody else I could think of. I came straight home and we celebrated again. We stayed up late at night and planned everything out, all the way to our baby's college. In the next months, we painted a room for the nursery, and prepared for our family. A few months later, you arrived. I was in the delivery room and watched you come into the world. I think that this was the happiest day of my life. You were gorgeous. Two arms, two legs, beautiful face, and a loud cry."
Robert just listened. I looked over and caught Margo's eye. She was close by. Was she listening? Did it matter? She brought two more beers.
"We discussed names. I should say, I discussed names. I wanted to name you after my father, Edward, or my grandfather, Peter. But Sandy would hear none of it. She named you Robert and that was it. I was just happy to have a son and didn't care that much. So Robert it was.
With a new mouth to feed, I felt that I had to work extra hard. I wanted to provide for you and our family. I still found time for Sandy, but she was always tired. I helped with the diaper changes and took my turn with the after midnight feedings, but things were strained. Sandy stayed home for a couple of months, but I could tell it was wearing on her. She needed some adult company and I encouraged her to go back to work. My mother could baby-sit. Sandy was much happier after that.
Sandy worked hard to get herself back in shape. After you were born, she walked and did aerobics almost every day. After six weeks, she looked great. One benefit was her breasts did not get smaller. They stayed a very nice C- cup. We soon got into a routine. Work, feeding, and sleep. We did return to our love making as often as you would allow. Sandy even got to go out a few evenings with her co-workers while I stayed home.
It was not six months later that Sandy told me she was pregnant again. We quickly decided that our little apartment was too small and began to look for a house. We had saved for a down payment and soon we found a place in the suburbs. It was a lovely house with a large yard. We moved in and a month later, we were back in the delivery room. Your brother arrived kicking and screaming. Again, I wanted to name him Edward or Peter, but your mother named him Randy. I conceded and Randy was brought into our family. I thought we were happy. I had not a clue that anything was amiss. With two boys in diapers, I though the stress was normal.
After Randy was born, we decided that Sandy could not go back to work. She did maintain contact with all her work friends and still made it out to with her friends once in a while.
Within a year, Sandy was pregnant again. Nine months later, Tim arrived. After another year, Michael arrived. You were four when Michael was born. After Michael, We decided that four boys were enough and Sandy had her tubes tied. But, you and your brothers were a very effective form of birth control and our sex life was challenged. But, I was happy.
We quickly found our little home too small. We shopped around and found the place in Aurora. It was a great house with a yard big enough for all you kids and your toys.
I began to notice things about Sandy. For one thing, she never once called you as "our boys." She always said "her boys." I attributed it to motherly pride, but it still bothered me. Another thing, she did was discount my job and me. Whenever we went to one of her social events, she would say I drew planes for a living. I did not correct her because I didn't want to embarrass her in front of her friends and also, what I did was classified, and couldn't discuss it anyway. But it still hurt.
My job was very taxing. I was now leading my design team on a new stealth fighter. There were grumblings in the Middle East and the Air Force was pushing hard. My team and I were delivering. My bosses were happy and they showed it by laying on more work. But, even with all the work, I still made it to every little league game. I coached a couple of your teams and cheered every hit. That in itself was no easy task. With the four of you, I was spread pretty thin.
When Michael began school, Sandy found herself with a lot of time on her hands. My job was providing a good salary, so she didn't need to work. So, she did the next best thing, she volunteered. She worked with the breast cancer society and library foundation. She found a way to fill almost every available minute. She worked hard and was very successful. And she developed a whole new group of friends.
All in all, life was good. My stealth fighter was flying and it had dazzled the world in the Gulf War. You boys were growing and we were involved in sports. Sandy was involved in the community and she seemed happy. Our life together was very satisfactory. However, I began to think she resented the relationship I had with you boys. I see now that she sometimes tried to drive a wedge between us. I see that she tried to make our life more complicated. Sandy signed you up for baseball and Randy up for football. She had Tim in volleyball and Michael in music. I never knew why each of you had to have a different sport to play. And Michael with his music. He was good. I don't have a musical bone in my body and I didn't think Sandy did either. But Michael was a truly gifted musician. I don't know where he got it. I would joke with Sandy that the postman must be a great musician and she would just smile.
And then it all came crumbling down. I just turned forty and the Air Force wanted me to get a physical. I hadn't seen a doctor in years. I was a healthy as a horse. The physical was very comprehensive. I did a treadmill test, blood work, and even had the finger wave. All was going well until the doctor checked my testicles. He found something. He was not sure what and he didn't tell me anything. He called a specialist. They made an appointment for me the next day. Now when the medical community moves that fast and gets you an appointment with a specialist the next day, you become worried. I didn't say anything at home and had a very restless night.
The next day, the specialist ran a bunch of tests. A cat scan, and more blood tests. By the end of the exam, he seemed a little more relaxed. He told me to get dressed and then he would discuss the results of the tests with me. We sat in his office and he explained that they thought I had a tumor, but it was some kind of scar tissue. He asked if I had any significant injuries, and all I could think of was a motorcycle accident I had when I was fourteen. I was dirt bike riding when I went down and the bike went up. I spent a couple of days in the hospital, but recovered quickly. Then he destroyed my world.'
He said " Is that what caused you to be sterile."
"I'm not sterile, I have four sons."
"Well, I don't know anything about that. But the tests show that your are sterile." I got mad and ran out of there. The next day, I got a second opinion. He said the same thing, I'm sterile. The next day, I got a third opinion. Same thing. The fourth day, I sought a different kind of proof. I took all four of you to the doctor. I told you and Sandy that we were getting flu shots, but actually, we were getting DNA tests.
I looked over at Robert. I asked if he remember that day. He nodded yes. He had tears in his eyes.
"Two weeks later, I had the results. I didn't think it could get any worse. It got worse. Not only were the four of you not mine, but also, each of you had a different father. I was devastated. I went to the nearest bar and sat. I contemplated the significance of this. I had questions, but no answers. I tried to remember any clues, but found none. My entire married life was a lie. Who was I married to? When? How? Where? After three doubles of single malt scotch, I called a taxi and was poured home."
"The next day, I was up early, with a hangover, and drove off to work. I couldn't think, couldn't concentrate, and couldn't even talk. My team noticed it and sent me home early. That night, Sandy cooked dinner. I remember it like it was yesterday. All you boys were at your high school basketball game. She wore a blue dress and made spaghetti. We had Chianti. I sat across from Sandy. I looked at her and wondered. I could not bring myself to ask. I looked at her with new eyes. I looked close and didn't like what I saw. I saw evil. I saw ugly. I got nauseated. She asked what is wrong. I couldn't answer. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I threw up dinner. I threw up lunch. I threw up my past, everything. I was sick until there was nothing left. Then I threw up blood. In that toilet, I saw my life, and I saw my future. Sandy asked if she should call a doctor. I said, "No, just leave me alone." She was concerned. Now? Now, she was concerned? I threw up again. Sandy led me to the spare bed and laid me down. I cried all night.
It was still dark when I got up. I didn't know what I was going to do. I just knew that I could not continue like this. I drove to the Denny's. I drank some juice and ate a couple of eggs. I managed to keep it down. I went to the park and watched the sunrise. It was a beautiful sunrise. A red sky at morning, sailors take warning. I drove to the office and resigned. They tried to talk me out of it. They asked what was wrong. I said nothing. I just quit. I went to the bank and took out half my 401k. Almost 80 thousand dollars. I drove home. Nobody was there. I looked for anything I needed. I saw nothing. There was nothing here for me. I wrote a note and left it on the table. All it said was "I know." I got in my truck and drove off leaving my home, your home, for the last time. I got to the interstate and wondered where I was going to go. I looked up into the clear blue sky and saw a hawk. He was flying east, so I turned east. I don't remember thinking of you boys, or even Sandy. All I wanted to do was escape the pain. I have very little recollection of those first days.
I didn't stop until I hit the Atlantic Ocean somewhere in Maine. I don't remember much of the trip east. I think I threw all my credit cards in a river somewhere and paid cash for everything. My first memories of that drive were when I reached to ocean."
I looked over at Robert and continued, "When I reached the ocean, I just sat and looked out at the expanse. To this day, the only memories that are clear in my mind are me looking at the ocean and wondering how far I could swim before I would give up. How long before the waves would take me and erase the pain. I contemplated jumping into the water and swimming until I drowned. More than once, I stripped my clothes off, folded them neatly on the shore and walked into the waves only to realize that I couldn't do it. Darkness consumed me, but in the end, I wasn't even strong enough to kill myself.
I continued on and slept in the truck and only got a hotel room when I needed a shower. I stayed near the coast and fought with myself daily about the final swim. How easy it would be, painless, and final. Unfortunately, I had a friend that committed suicide, I remembered that pain and questions that he left behind. And even with all my burdens, I couldn't do that to you and your brothers. I was a looser and a homeless drifter.
I turned south and worked my way down the east coast. I wanted to conserve my money, so I got a job. I worked as a dishwasher in a restaurant in Annapolis. Stayed there for a little while then moved on. A couple of weeks here, a month there. I worked as a fry cook, waiter, and even drove a tram at Disneyworld for a couple of months.
I was working in an auto shop in Atlanta when the FBI found me. Apparently, the feds don't like it when people with top-secret security clearances disappear. I was working at a place called "Al's Brakes." Al was a big guy, very typical of a mechanic. He always wore greasy, shirt with "Al" over the pocket, and an unlit cigar always in the corner of his mouth. After I had been there for about two weeks, I came into work one morning; Al met me at the door. He said that there were a couple of guys that wanted to talk to me and he escorted me into his office. Waiting were two agents. As I saw them, the fear and pain returned. I thought they would take me back. I thought about leaving, but before I could turn one agent spoke, "It took a long time to find you and we really don't want to do it again. Please sit down." I figured that they had guns, so I sat.
They never did give me their names. Then in the usual government fashion, they began to question me. I should say interrogate would be a better word. I had dealt with feds and security checks numerous times and they did not intimidate me as much as they used to. They asked what happened and why did I leave. I answered that my wife and I had a disagreement and that I could no longer live with her. After some back and forth, they left it at that. The taller one stated that they would report to the government that they found me. I asked if they were going to report it to my wife and he said, "No." My wife was not a concern of theirs. I was sure they knew the reason I left.
They reminded me of my confidentiality agreements and gave me the usual implied threats. I thanked them and they left. On the way out, the shorter agent turned and said, "I understand. I'm sorry." I saw pain in his eyes. I nodded and nothing more was said. Back to work, Al had a brake job for me. I don't think Al trusted me after that and I left a week later. I always assumed that the feds kept tabs on me after that, and every once in a while, one would pop up to check on me. I just think they wanted to make sure that I wasn't spilling any secrets. I had my own issues. I barely spoke to anybody. I could not think of a single conversation I had had since I left. Talking to somebody or passing on their secrets was far from a possibility. I was damaged. I think people saw this and left me alone.
I was on the east coast for about a year before I headed west. New Orleans, Houston, Kansas City, Phoenix, and then the Pacific Ocean. Worked some. Thought some. Cried a lot. I tried to remember anything in our past that was said, anything missed. Anybody. I could not. I recalled every conversation with her. Every insult. What did I do wrong? Every good time, every bad. I did not see it. I wondered how you boys were doing. I did miss you. But I could not face you with what I now knew. By the end of the second year. Some of the pain was gone. I only cried on most nights. Some days, I had a good ten minutes of peace.
I began to piece tighter things from our past. Sandy had a co-worker named Robert. I met him a couple of times. Asshole. I never did like him and at the time I could not say why. I had met another co-worker named Randy. Same thing. She had a close girlfriend named Susan, and I remembered her boyfriend was named Michael. I recalled Susan saying how good a guitar player he was. He played in a rock band somewhere. Each remembrance killed me a little more. Facts revealed, but the reasons behind them never did. Did she do this intentionally? Why the names? I was in the pits of hell.
On the West coast, I began to find a new peace. I found that I loved to watch the sunset over the ocean. I would find a spot in the evening and watch the waves and sun until dark. I watched hundreds of them. Each one was different. Each one allowed me new time to think, new time to remember. I felt like I was healing. Maybe the reasons would never be revealed.
I found myself in Seattle. I was working as a waiter in a family restaurant when everything changed again. A couple of guys came in. They looked like nerds, pocket protectors and all. They laid out a drawing of an airplane. I gave it a quick glance. A small executive jet. As I waited for their order, I looked closer at the drawing. They ordered and I said "the air intakes are wrong."
I said "If you change the air intakes you can increase the engine performance."
"How would you know" one replied.
"Just a lucky guess." I grabbed a napkin, laid it over the drawing and traced the engines and modified the air intakes. I took out a piece of paper and did some quick calculations.
"Just by doing this, you will increase performance by about 23 percent."
They were speechless. "The landing gear is wrong too." I left to give water to table five. When I brought them their lunch, they didn't say a word. They did leave a good tip.
The next day, I was back waiting my tables. The lunch crowd was heavy and I was hustling. A guy in a suit comes in and sits in my area. I get him his iced tea and ask what he would like to have. He pulls out the drawing. I notice that my intake modifications have been added. "Did you do this?" he asks.
"You say the gear is wrong too."
"Can we talk?"
"Are you going to order something?"
"Your modification will increase performance by 22.7 percent. You were very close with your calculations."
"I guess I am out of practice."
"Can we talk?"
"Not now, I'm busy."
"How about later? It's important."
"Alright, I get off work at four. Be here then."
"At four, he was waiting by the door. He introduced himself as Brad Linsky and asked about my history and I told him that I did a little work with airplanes in a different life. He wanted more, but I didn't offer anything else. We discussed the landing gear. He then laid it all out. He and a couple of partners were developing a new executive jet. They had financing and solid orders when the jet was done. With my intake modifications, the jet could be profitable. They wanted more of what I had to offer. I told him that I would have to think about it. I didn't know if I was ready to get back a life.
I thought long and hard for over a week. Was my past life going to come up? Was it an issue? Did I still have the pain? I sat at Pikes Pier and watched the boats come and go. I watched the sunset over the Sound. I decided to call him. The next day, Brad met me at the restaurant and a limo whisked us to the airport. One hour later we were on a Citation jet headed to San Diego. On the plane, I looked over some more drawings of their executive jet and made a couple more suggestions. Brad took lots of notes. I told Brad about my history designing jets. My married life never came up.
In San Diego, we met with a couple of attorneys, drew up a contract, and the next thing I know, I'm a partner. My ideas were incorporated into the jet and some were sent to the patent office to be registered. One month later we were all set to begin serious work to finish the jet. I had to move to San Diego to keep up. The feds did stop by one time to talk. It was the same two guys that were in Atlanta, along with an Air Force engineer I had worked with in the past. They looked at what I was doing and reviewed the confidentiality agreement. They were not happy but they could not stop me.
Work was progressing well when we got a call from Airbus. They wanted to incorporate my ideas in their next generation passenger jets. Then Boeing called. We licensed the systems and the money began to flow in. Every jet built would send us some serious royalties. After a year, I got a house on the beach and now I can sit and watch the sunsets every day from my back porch.
I found that getting back to work, doing something I love, being wanted, was what I needed to regain my life. I have been here for almost two years now. We have turned the company into something respectable. Something valuable. I have buried myself in the work. There has been no one in my life for the past five years. This monologue is the most I've talked in five years. It has been lonely."
I looked at Robert. His face showed a sorrow beyond his years. Looking around, I noticed that it was dark. The sun had set. The sports bar was very quiet with only a few stragglers. Margo caught my eye then looked away quickly. She too had tears in her eyes.
"Well, where do we go from here?" I asked.
"I don't know." More tears flowed.
"Do your mother or brothers know that you found me?"
"They don't even know I was looking for you. Nobody knows."
"What are you going to tell them?"
"I don't know. I have to think."
"Well there is a great point that overlooks the ocean about a half mile west from here. I have spent many hours there watching the waves and thinking. " I asked if he had a place to stay and he said that he was good. Robert got up to leave. He looked ten years older than when he walked in. Slumped over, tired. His world was completely altered in just a few hours.
I didn't know what to do. Should I give a father/son hug? Handshake? He answered for me by grabbing my shoulders and embracing me. I could feel his tears on my neck. And mine on his.
Sandy had become a blurry history that I fight constantly to keep buried. But the boys were a different story entirely. I know that I was not their father, but I still let them down. They were, and still are, the true victims of this tragedy. For many a night, I cried for them. I was too weak to stay and help them. I hoped they would forgive me. I don't think I ever will.
"Can we talk tomorrow?" he asked.
"I'll be here." I replied
And with that he walked out. I sat back down in a daze. My past life was now before me and I didn't know what to do.
Margo came over and sat down. She brought a couple of beers and set them in front of us. She took a big drink of one. We sat quietly for a long time. "I saw him come in with trouble written all over his face." She began, "I thought we were going to have to break up something. I stayed close in case he started something. I didn't mean to listen in. I heard everything." She leaned in and hugged me and cried. "I sorry" she whispered.
What was I going to do now?
Edited by Barney R
Part II will be Robert's story and the impact the affairs had on the family. Part III is Sandy's story. The stories are don and will be posted soon.
Thanks to Barney R for the edits. If errors are found, I assume responsibility. I made a couple of changes after his reviews.