On my desk was the box back from the FBI. Inside the box was a letter and papers with signatures - lots of signatures.‘‘To the honorable President...Jones.’’‘‘I know you are very busy so I will try to keep this as short as possible. My name is Chief Petty Officer Stanley Hastings. I serve on the USS Fordson. I know you have been highly distressed at all the problems getting my ship into service, as we all have been.’’‘‘At the last sea trial the engineers and technicians found the solutions to. I did not want to experience several million people trying to out-compete one another while stacked like cord-wood. We hit up the coast a bit--ShanWai. We had our tanks pumped and the fuel bunkers filled. I inquired about a company that I'd seen on the internet--they specialized in two-cycle high-efficiency desalinization units. With a water plant we could reclaim some good cubic and increase our range. A small water tank--say, 200 gallons--fixed to the top deck, a couple of pumps and a twenty. We do a great job right now for such a small, quick moving group. But, think, just for a moment … if sales and operations and development and design were all dropping their age-old biases and conflicts to achieve goal after goal. And what is the motivation to totally change those inborn behaviors? Sex. They get laid. They get sucked. They get it however they want it.”He looked over the three men that managed the people and functions of the company. He waited for reactions, objections,. " He took a step back and opened his desk to pull out a small name tag. "Another step you should take is getting a better name." He leaned down and clipped the "chrissie" name tag to the boy's shirt. "Chris is such ... it is such a man's name. Your roommate isn't Robert, he is Robby. Does that make sense to you? You wouldn't have a name like your Father?"Chrissie blinked and nodded slowly. That made perfect sense! "I am sorry, Sir. I didn't know!"Mr. Andrews petted the boy's head. "That is.