Okay. I was there. The United States Air Force. Airman Basic Jesse James MarxLennon.

The recruiter didn't lie to me. He said the worst part would be Basic Training, and all it would be was high school gym class combined with Mickey Mouse bullshit about lining up your shoes and folding your boxer shorts "correctly". Oh, and short guys with loud voices yelling a lot. Well, and going to bed at 9 p.m. and getting up at 5 a.m.

It really wasn't that bad. I quickly learned the trick was to stay invisible. Don't do anything too bad or anything too good. Don't draw attention.

Although I had the option of joining with a "guaranteed job", I just joined with the "whatever you want" attitude. I joined for the benefits that would come AFTER I got out.

The Air Force needed Language Specialist and Computer Specialists. I knew Latin, Spanish, and German. I knew nothing about computers.

I also participated in a few too many anti-war demonstrations.

I ended up going to computer school. I guess they didn't think they could trust me to translate Chinese for them.

So, after my six weeks in Basic Training, I headed off to Sheppard AFB to learn how to operate a mainframe computer.

The BIG difference in training school was that you didn't have to be in the barracks and in bed at 9 p.m. As long as you were there and ready to go at 6:00 a.m., you were fine.

Class was a piece of cake. Everything was geared down to a level that you could easily absorb while nursing a hangover, which was a level a good number of us spent a good deal of time.

The Airman's Club was an amazing place to me. First, the drinking age in Texas at that time was 18, so it was the first "bar" where I could buy hard liquor. The second thing was that I just wasn't much of a drinker. Drunk is a whole different thing from stoned. It just was incredible how much these folks could drink.

And then there was Angel. Her name was Angelioux Jackson. Angel was a WAF (Women's Air Force). She was from just outside of Memphis. A cute little Southern belle with an adorable Southern drawl. She was 18 and studying Accounting. Angel joined the Air Force to see somewhere besides Western Tennessee.

She was pretty much the typical high school "rah-rah" girl. Angel was in the Pep Club, dated guys on the football team, was a "Lady in Waiting" at Homecoming. Pretty much the kind of girl that avoided me and my friends. Angel was a "nice" girl.

Angel joined the Air Force to get away from her image. She joined to break loose, to have some fun, to rebel. She didn't want to be just another "nice" girl living her whole life in the suburbs of Memphis. Angel wanted to find some different, something new.

So did I. Angel was completely different from anyone I knew back home.

We were drawn to each other like moths to a flame.

We started seeing each other every night. We spent all night, every night, together.

Angel and I were so in love.

We talked about getting married and raising kids. We talked about growing old together.

I finished school about two months before Angel and was assigned to my first base, Andrews AFB in Washington D.C.

Angel got orders to England. We decided to get married before she left.

The Air Force likes to keep couples together, so only 100 days after we got married, I got ordered to join Angel at RAF Lakenheath.

Angel had gotten a little row house off base. She'd furnished it, decorated it, and made it a little home for us. After being apart so long, it was like a dream being together.

We were married, really married, and completely in love with everything about each other.

When Angel found out she was pregnant a few months later, everything seemed perfect. Now we'd have a family. We'd talked about having three kids. Well, one was on the way.

(That's not us. That's John and Yoko. I just thought I'd throw that picture in.)

Angel got discharged from the Air Force when she was about 6 months pregnant. We decided we had to find a better place to live and she wanted to make sure everything was like it should be for the baby.

Luckily for us at the time, the U.S. dollar was very strong, so on what I made as an Airman First Class (plus the money we stashed away as soon as we knew Angel was pregnant), we were doing okay.

It was about that time Max started writing to me about time and time travel. I wasn't too worried about it.

After all, my wife was having my baby, and there had been a few minor complications. I wasn't going to worry myself about Max suddenly discovering the concept of relative time.

It wasn't until Honey wrote that she hadn't seen him in three weeks that I got concerned.

Levi was a perfect little boy. Angel would be the perfect mother. I could be the perfect father.

Everything would be just fine, just perfect. Maybe.