You can open a door for me or not, as you like; it doesn't bother me. However, I do get ever so mildly upset if I spend two hours talking about my last flight, and then you look at me in amazement and say, "Oh, do you fly then?" It's happened, I kid you not (And by the way, Whirls, it was a helicopter pilot!). And after the 10th, 20th, maybe 30th time of such a thing, is it really surprising if I get ever so slightly pissed off about it? Sorry, but I'm human and imperfect. I apologise for that, and now thanks for the welcome, but maybe I'll go back into my hole and sleep like Rip van Winkle for another few years of so.