Show 148 - My Altair 8800 Adventure, Part I

The following audio program is suitable for all ages.

It's August 20th, 2022, and you're tuned in to the RetroBits Podcast.

Hi, I'm your host, Earl Evans, and this is the show where we talk about computing like

we did it back in the day.

That's right, here we're all about old-school computing and modern-day fun.

If it's got 8-bits, paper tape, punch cards, CPM, cartridge slots, BASIC and ROM, or if

it's just plain old, then you've found the right podcast.

This is show number 148, and today's topic?

My Altair 8800.

Adventure.

Part 1.

Information about RetroBits can be found at the blog site, www.retrobits.com.

You can send feedback to feedback at retrobits.com, and you can find me on Twitter, at RetroEarl.

Hello, retro computing enthusiasts.

Getting behind the RetroBits microphone again feels like Rip Van Winkle waking up from a

long slumber.

You might be wondering, where have I been?

Well, I've been a co-host on the Retro Computing Roundtable.

It's a great group of folks who talk, typically we try every two weeks, but sometimes it slips.

But yeah, it's about every two weeks we get together and we talk about retro computing.

You can find that at rcrpodcast.com, or it's probably on your favorite podcast registry.

But anyway, I hope this podcast finds you all safe and healthy.

And, well, an extraordinary time.

On the personal front, I'm having a lot of fun with my KPro 2X and Okidata printer.

Listener Scott gave me this KPro.

Thanks, Scott.

It is really nice.

It's a beauty.

Looks like it just came off the assembly line.

I might, in fact, make a whole episode on this, so I won't belabor it.

The real thing I wanted to mention here is .matrix printer.

We talked about .matrix printing recently on the Retro Computing Roundtable,

and it kind of reminded me how much fun it is.

So I dug out my Epson FX-85, powered it up, and bummer, it's dead.

When it comes up, it beeps three times, twice, and then just sits there, dead as a doornail.

By the way, I looked up that phrase, dead as a doornail.

What does it mean?

I'm not even going to bore you with it, because it wasn't that exciting.

I will tell you, though, that the phrase dates all the way back to the 1300s,

so I guess it all by itself is retro.

And the fact that I could find that information proves you can get almost any info on the Internet,

except what it means when your FX-85 beeps three times, twice in a row.

There was a posting on one forum where someone,

had that exact problem, but unfortunately, nobody had a solution for it.

So, bummer.

If you happen to know what that means, please drop me a line.

I couldn't find any technical or troubleshooting reference manual

that would let me know exactly what those beeps mean.

But all is not lost, because I have three Okidata MicroLine printers.

They're each a slightly different model, and so I just grabbed the one on top,

which is a MicroLine 1X.

It's a 1982 Turbo.

The ribbon still had some life left in it.

That was enough to tell me things were working when I tried the self-test.

So after I hooked it up and made sure that the printer was completely functional,

that there were no issues, I did go ahead and buy some ribbons for it.

And they were super cheap.

I think it was $10 for six ribbons.

Now, of course, I don't know if they're new old stock,

but they work just perfectly.

The printer...

The printout looks great.

One thing I do hope is that I don't run out of the TractorFeed printer paper very soon,

because unlike the ribbons, that is not cheap.

Luckily, I do have quite a stash, so I should be okay for a while.

Now, as I mentioned, I wanted to hook this printer up to the K-Pro,

and that was a tiny challenge, until I had a brainstorm.

You see, even though it's from 1985,

the K-Pro 2X...

The K-Pro 2X doesn't use what I would call a PC-compatible printer cable,

the one with a DB25 on one end and the Amphenol cable on the other.

Instead, the cable has that big Amphenol connectors on both sides,

and it's a straight-through cable.

So I thought, well, I don't have one of those.

What might I be able to do to compensate?

Then I realized I do have two of the PC printer cables,

and I have a female...

I have a female-to-female DB25 connector.

Theoretically, if I hooked that all up,

that should wind me up with a straight-through cable

that has the right pins connected on both sides.

And I toned this out with my multimeter,

found out that it indeed was exactly what I needed.

So I hooked it up between the K-Pro and the printer,

and it all worked like a charm.

So now I'm printing like it's 1985.

And dot matrix printing was entirely the amount of fun that I remembered it being.

The screeching sound, the slow speed, the dubious print quality.

I mean, it's magical.

It's an experience that really takes you back to the day.

So now that I have a working printer, what was I going to do?

The first thing that I did was something that I did very frequently

back in the 80s for my homework.

I have a Pascal program that I'm working.

I'm working on on the K-Pro, so I made a print out of that.

Thing number two that I did with the printer.

I thought, you know, what would not just be fun to print,

but also might be a little bit impressive to my family that, you know,

they tolerate my retrocomputing hobby, but, you know,

what could I do that might be really cool?

So I found some ASCII art.

In fact, I found an ASCII art portrait of Spock.

From Star Trek, so I transferred that over to the K-Pro using Kermit,

which is what I'm using to communicate between the PC and the K-Pro.

And I printed it out like the lifelong Star Trek fan that I am.

And I can report to you that the results were indeed impressive

and that my family got a kick out of it, too.

Now, when I was done with all that, I thought, what am I going to do next?

Well, on the Epson, one of the things

that used to be really fun was printing out things

using the dot addressable graphics of the Epson.

Of course, if you had some software that understood how the Epson works,

it would take care of all that for you.

But I thought it was fun to, you know, kind of get down

like right at the printer level and figure out how the dot addressable graphics works.

So I did that with the Okidata.

I'll say I kind of did that.

Actually, the results that are coming out,

are a little glitchy, and I'm not quite sure exactly what I'm going to do to fix that.

I did find two different versions of the manual,

and they had a slightly different take on the commands that you use

and the byte sequences that you send to the printer to get the dot addressable graphics.

And I don't know why that is, but I'm going to try the commands in the second manual

and see if actually maybe I was just using the wrong bits to get this thing to work.

Anyway, more to come on that.

But a final comment.

The near letter quality mode on this Okidata 182 Turbo is actually very nice.

I mean, it's not letter quality as the phrase near letter quality implies,

but the characters are well formed.

They're actually very attractive and readable.

Using the 10 characters per inch NLQ mode, it's very nice.

I might have to rethink my brain.

There's a lot of bias for Epson printers.

Okay, onto the news and links section.

Put on your seat belt.

It's time to catch up on eight years of retrocomputing news.

Or let's just skip ahead and talk about what's happening lately.

I think that's probably better.

One of the biggest and most awesome changes in the hobby over the last eight years

has been the emergence of some really cool YouTube channels for retrocomputing.

There are many that I'm subscribed to, but I'll just mention a couple of my favorites.

Adrian's Digital Basement is full of retro computer repair and restoration videos.

Adrian takes you through the whole repair process, even including stumbles along the way, which I really enjoy.

You know, it's kind of fun to see the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.

But I'll tell you that Adrian is very tenacious.

If a computer is determined to stay broken, it better stay away from his basement, because he's going to keep at it until it's fixed.

He actually has a couple of YouTube channels, a primary and an alternate.

I'll provide links to both in the show notes, or you can just search for Adrian's Digital Basement on YouTube.

One of my other favorites is RMC, The Cave.

The host of that channel, Neil,

has done what many of us only dream about.

He's created an amazing museum and public space with a cozy feel,

working classic computers and gaming consoles,

and this is all on the site of a historic 18th century mill.

It's really beautiful.

Now, this is in the UK, which is great for my friends across the pond,

but a bummer for me, because that's just too far to drive from Oregon.

However, this will be a must-see, if and when I can get over that way again.

RMC's YouTube channel also has well-executed repair and restoration videos,

but in addition, it devotes a fair amount of time to the construction, upkeep, and activities of the cave itself.

The videos are awesome, and Neil's enthusiasm is apparent and contagious.

I loved seeing how all the work and painstaking decisions,

converged into the amazing place that the cave is today.

So again, a link for this will be up in the show notes as well,

or you can just search for RMC The Cave on YouTube.

Now on to the main topic for this show,

My Altair 8800 Adventure, Part 1.

While we're on the topic of wildest dreams,

one of them happened to me.

It was just amazing.

In May 2020,

not long after the start of the pandemic,

I was contacted by someone here in the Portland metro area

who had some MITS Altair equipment and wanted to donate it.

The gentleman had worked for Pertek back in the day.

Pertek is the company that had purchased MITS in the late 1970s.

After a couple of emails back and forth,

it became clear that this was actually a decent amount of equipment involved,

along with one of the bespoke MITS desks that housed the Altair 8800B business system.

So this was going to be quite a haul.

Now being in the retro hobby,

we understand the value,

both historically and monetarily,

of an Altair system.

But someone outside the hobby might not.

So I let the owner know that this equipment was valuable,

and I offered to put him in touch,

with some local groups that might have members

who would be interested in purchasing it.

However, he assured me this was offered as a donation to a good home,

and I could definitely commit to that.

So we moved forward.

On the day of the pickup,

I was amazed at the actual scope of the equipment.

We had talked about it over the phone,

and I'd seen some of the pictures,

but it was a lot.

Not only was it an Altair 8800B,

a turnkey that had been shown in the initial pictures,

but also an 8800B not turnkey.

This is the one with all the lights and switches on the front,

and something called an Icom attache,

which I'll talk about in a subsequent episode,

but it's actually an Altair 8800 as well.

Essentially, this was three Altairs for the price of none,

and with it,

two boxes of,

uh,

you know,

full office-sized boxes of documentation,

a couple of MITS-branded 8-inch disk drive units,

a MITS-labeled Beehive terminal,

a bunch of TTL,

RAM,

ROM,

and EEPROM chips,

and the desk,

and something else that I'll talk about in a future part of this episode series

called a 3812 dual drive unit.

Even though the owner lived not too far from me in the Portland area,

carting all this to my house was quite a project.

For those who've never seen a picture of this desk,

it's essentially an Altair blue-colored 19-inch-wide and two-foot-tall rack mount cabinet

attached with some serious bolts to an amazingly sturdy desk.

The desk is made of wood,

but I would swear it's heavier than cast iron.

Of course, I'm getting older,

so you should take my hand.

I don't like heavy lifting complaints with a grain of salt,

but in my defense,

the legs on both sides actually are iron.

So this thing's heavy.

So to continue,

as I reeled in a delirium of good fortune and muscle pain,

I still realized there were challenges ahead.

Lots of them,

most likely.

The equipment was untested,

and some of it was grungy,

having lived in a garage for a while.

On the flip side,

the good and even great news

was that along with the systems

came several dozen MITS S100 cards,

including CPU cards,

static RAM boards,

turnkey and I.O. boards,

and some other miscellaneous.

And despite their life in a garage,

they had zero signs of rust or corrosion,

which I thought was really fortunate.

Truly, with some decent luck,

there was enough raw material here

to make all three systems operational

and have some room to spare.

I took the boards out of the box

that they'd been stored in,

I photographed them on a static safe surface,

and I put them in individual static bags.

None seemed to be worse for wear,

no broken components,

bent leads, etc.

So luck was indeed smiling on me.

And next I started going through the documentation.

Yes, this was indeed the mother load.

It included MITS original technical documents,

notes, sales brochures,

and some issues of a regular newsletter

that MITS printed called Computer Notes.

Some of this documentation is online,

but some of it isn't.

And one document in particular

came in handy during the restoration

of that 3812 disk drive unit.

I'll cover that in part two.

And I want to send a shout out

and thanks to my son Joshua

for helping the old man cart all this home

in multiple trips.

Just like he did years ago

with my PDP-11.

For those of you who have been listening

to RetroBits for a while,

Joshua, yep,

the little guy who played Star Raiders

with me on Show 82,

is now graduated from university

with a degree in information security

and working for a managed IT service provider.

Does that make you feel old?

Me too.

So, anyway, next,

where to start?

Like a lot of retro enthusiasts,

I was familiar with the Altair 8800,

the essential specifications,

its place in history.

I knew the CPU was an 8080

and that it originated the S100 bus

and that it made Bill Gates and Paul Allen

a gabillion dollars

because it started their company and their fortune

with the basic that they wrote for it.

However, knowing these tidbits

is tons different

than actually understanding this system in depth.

So I immersed myself in MIT's documentation,

both what I had in hand

and what was online.

And after countless hours of study,

I'd say that maybe, possibly,

at this point,

I progressed to a raw newbie.

There is so much to know here.

I'm indebted to the amazing efforts

of S100 and, specifically,

Altair enthusiasts

for their reverse engineering efforts,

the documentation that they've preserved

and posted online,

and even modern-day add-ons

that they've created.

So out of the three systems,

the one that seemed to have the most promise

of perhaps working without any issue

was the 8800BT,

or turnkey.

What do you mean by turnkey?

Well, in this case,

the turnkey is literal.

The Altair 8800B turnkey

has a key

on the front,

and that is the power switch

that you use to turn it on.

And turnkey also gives you

the general impression

that this was meant to be easy to use,

user-friendly,

and that was indeed the point of it.

It doesn't have all of the lights and switches

of the original Altairs.

In fact, there are only a couple of lights

and switches on this one.

One nice thing about this particular specimen

that I have

is that it has the dress front panel,

the little placard on the front

that says MITS

and has all the labeling on it.

Sometimes systems don't have that,

and in fact, my other 8800

that I got as part of this

doesn't have the placard.

It just has the metal front

with the lights and switches.

And this dress front panel is in really nice shape.

In fact, the whole unit was in good shape,

just needed a little cleaning up.

So the first thing that I did

was take about a million pictures from every angle.

I've learned this is a great idea

when you take apart any system,

including new ones,

but especially retro systems.

And now that I think about it,

I wonder if it would have been a good idea

to also take some video as I was doing this.

I didn't do that.

Well, there's more work to do,

so I will make a note.

I'll probably video some of the things that I'm doing.

After I took all the pictures,

I began to carefully disassemble it

and give it a cleaning.

I had to remove the unit

from that rack mount enclosure

that is part of the desk.

That was a bit challenging, but it worked out okay.

And next, I removed the S100 cards

that were in the system and safely stored them.

This is harder than it sounds.

S100 cards that have been in their slots for decades

are not happy about coming out.

Not happy at all.

I had to slowly and gently,

with the emphasis on slowly and gently,

pry them out using the overhang

on each side of the card from the card slot.

I used a long screwdriver as a gentle lever.

Now, I don't recommend this.

And S100 experts are probably lining up to yell at me,

but conversely, I'm not sure what I would recommend.

I was super careful, but it still made me nervous.

There's just no good place on top

to grip these cards,

to kind of, you know, wiggle them out.

They don't have pull tabs like PDP cards do.

And if you grab the components and pull,

well, that's not going to end well.

So, I think the method I used was probably the,

you know, best of the potential evils

that I could have inflicted on the system.

Caution, in fact, was the name of the game through all this.

I was very careful while I was doing all of this.

Now, the Altair chassis consists of two major parts,

an inner assembly and the outer blue case

that we're all used to seeing with an Altair.

You have to separate these two

to remove the S100 card slot backplane.

And if you're not slow and careful

while extracting the inner chassis from the outer case,

you could bend or crack that dress front panel

that I was talking about.

So, I moved slow.

Once the inner chassis was free,

it wasn't tough to remove the backplane.

I marked the connectors from the power supply.

They're screw tab connectors,

and I wanted to make sure I hooked them back up correctly

and didn't blow anything up later.

The 18-slot backplane, once it was out,

took well to a warm water bath,

as did the outer case.

By the time that I was done,

both of them were looking spotless.

The power supply, though,

was a bit tough to clean.

Since I didn't want to take it out,

and even if I did,

there were places that still would have been tough to reach.

So I gave it the best careful cleaning that I could,

and while I was doing that,

I also did an inspection for bad capacitors

or any other signs of doom,

components that might have shown that

the power supply was in fact

not happy.

But all seemed well.

In fact, everything actually looked really good,

cleaned up very nicely,

and reassembly was effectively just reversing

everything I just mentioned.

When I was done,

I had a clean and empty system

with just the front panel

and the chassis and the power supply.

I used this opportunity to check the fuses

and the power supply voltages.

Now, depending on your opinions,

this might have been where I made

my first mistakes here.

First, I was checking the power supply voltages

with no load on the system.

I've heard that can be a bad thing.

Never experienced it being a bad thing,

but anyway, that might have been an error.

I'll note, though,

that the voltages checked out just fine

both before and after introducing a load

on the power supply.

And maybe the bigger problem

is that I didn't take time

to reform the large power supply capacitor.

What is reforming, you might wonder?

Well, I'll try and summarize it,

although I'm not an expert,

so if I get any of this wrong,

apologies in advance.

As I understand it,

reforming is a process that uses

a small and gradually increasing

amount of DC voltage on the capacitor

with carefully controlled and limited current.

The internal guts of the capacitor

actually can reconstitute themselves

if they've become deformed over time

using this process.

By the way, I'll point out again,

don't trust my explanation.

If you're interested,

there are many good descriptions

of this process on the internet.

Now, with the class, size,

and the late 70s age

of this power supply,

there seem to be mixed feelings

on whether this reforming is necessary.

Some people think,

oh, yeah, sure, you better do that,

and others say, nah, just hook it up,

you'll be fine.

So I chose to go with that.

I just hooked it up,

and I rolled the dice.

I didn't pay a price,

but I might have been lucky.

Some of you who are old hands at this

might be shaking your heads.

Sorry.

I did wear eye protection

for quite a while

when the power supply was on at first,

since the system doesn't have a lid,

and I've seen firsthand

what a large capacitor can do

when it explodes.

I had some older S100 equipment before,

and if you looked at the inside of the case,

the top of the lid,

I should say the underside of the lid

on that system,

it had scorch marks

that could have only come

from one of the large power supply capacitors

detonating.

So look out.

Those things can really blow.

And speaking of power supplies,

this actually is a good place

for a cautionary note.

Frankly put,

live power supplies can harm or kill you.

All it takes is being careless

or uninformed one time

for very bad things to happen.

There are safety tips online

for working on things like power supplies and CRTs.

I'm not qualified to give any advice on this,

and so I won't,

because that kind of advice

would much better come from experts.

But I'll make this general plea.

Before working with that kind of stuff,

power supplies,

CRTs,

or other components

that could be an electrical hazard,

please be absolutely sure

that you know what you're doing,

and even then,

always be careful.

We like our retro computer stuff

and we don't want it to hurt us.

Personally,

even though I've been involved

with electronics and electricity all my life,

I still limit my exposure to power supplies

and I don't work on CRTs at all.

If I have to open something like a pet,

an SX-64,

or even the Kaypro I was mentioning before

that have a CRT in them,

I give that CRT a wide berth.

And I actually prefer

to work on equipment that's been powered off

for a very long time.

Now, a CRT can even hold a charge in that case.

But, again,

just please be careful.

So enough on that.

Where were we?

Oh, yeah.

Chassis back together.

The connections are confirmed.

I also checked that the voltages

were showing up on the right pins

on the S100 backplane

to make sure that I had reconnected

the backplane correctly to the power supply.

Everything is happy.

Maybe it's time to put the boards back in?

Well, what boards are there?

For this Turnkey 8800 system,

here's the minimum setup as I see it.

First, you need a CPU card.

You need a CPU.

It's a computer.

Unlike modern,

or even most of the 80s computers,

the CPU for the Altair

isn't on the motherboard itself.

The main board on an Altair

is just a bunch of passive slots

with 100 conductors.

The CPU is on its own board,

with the circuitry needed to talk to

the other devices that will be

on those card slots.

Next, you need some RAM.

Well, how much?

Well, early Altair users

didn't have much.

If I read it right,

they might have as little as 1K of RAM.

But luckily, as part of all this,

I had some 16K static RAM cards.

So I started with one of those

to see if I could notice any signs of life.

Another card that you need

is called the Turnkey card.

When the 8080 processor starts up,

it begins executing code at location 0.

But location 0 probably has RAM,

and you haven't put anything in the RAM yet,

so it's just running gibberish.

So the Turnkey card helps you out on that

by forcibly inserting a jump

onto the system bus

when the computer first starts up

to a location of your choosing,

and you choose it using dip switches

on the Turnkey card.

And this will probably point to

a location in ROM where you have

some code that will execute upon startup

and do something worthwhile.

The Turnkey card also conveniently

has some ROMs on board

that you can use for this,

up to four of them.

Now each of the ROMs only has 256 bytes.

That's right, not 256K, 256 bytes,

because these are 1702 ROMs.

It's always tough to say

what the first of something is,

but the 1702s are typically recognized

as the first EPROMs.

The Turnkey card also has a serial port,

so that one card gives you

a startup location, some ROMs,

and the ability to interface with the computer.

Pretty cool, huh?

So with these three cards,

CPU, RAM, and a Turnkey,

you can actually create a basic working system.

The ROMs on the Turnkey card

can include one that's called Termon,

if I remember right,

which stands for Turnkey Monitor.

It's a very simple machine language monitor

that will let you inspect and set memory locations

and execute code

at a location of your choosing.

So after hearing all this,

what's missing?

Well, I don't have a disk controller card.

And there was not one

as part of all of this.

Well, let me rephrase.

There wasn't a disk controller card

for the MITS disk drives.

There were actually several disk controller cards

for that 3812 disk drive unit

that I keep talking about

and keep saying that I'm going to talk about

in part two.

So they have to wait on that one.

I did have those MITS disk drives

and some 8-inch disks,

even, that came with the system.

I didn't know if they would work.

You know, they're old,

and floppy disks age,

and, you know, bad things happen.

But anyway, since I didn't have a disk controller

this wasn't even an issue.

There was no way that I could use the drives.

So what to do?

Luckily, this wasn't a problem either.

This is where I first meet Mike Douglas.

He's the maker of the Altair clone,

the host of DRAMP.com,

D-E-R-A-M-P dot com,

now one of my favorite websites.

And he's also the creator

of a modern S100 board

called the FDC Plus

for the floppy disk controller plus.

Now, with the right connectors,

that FDC Plus can interface to

a variety of disk drives.

Could be the MITS disk drives

that I was talking about before,

or you can hook it up to

five and a quarter inch high density drives,

or you can even hook it up to a virtual disk

that you serve to the Altair

from a modern PC

using some custom software.

Not only is the FDC Plus a floppy controller,

but it also has 64K of RAM

and a pre-programmed EEPROM as well.

And you can enable or disable

all of those features independently

using DIP switches on the board.

So this makes it a very useful card

for troubleshooting the Altair,

especially if you're not sure

which of your cards work and which don't.

Sounded just like what I needed,

so I bought one.

And I will have links for the FDC Plus

and to Mike's other videos,

and other sites in the show notes.

Mike's very helpful in not only the Altair,

but several retrocomputing communities.

He has a YouTube channel

where he covers some of his projects.

I'll have a link for that too.

Once I got the FDC Plus,

I configured it to provide all the RAM and ROM.

This meant I could just put

the bare minimum set of boards in the Altair.

That included the CPU card,

the turnkey card,

and the FDC Plus.

I'll spare you the ragged details,

but I downloaded and installed

that virtual disk server software

that I was talking about,

selected a virtual disk image to boot,

and I connected the PC to the FDC Plus.

And finally, none of this is going to work

without a terminal.

I should have mentioned up front,

the Altair doesn't have a screen and keyboard.

And if you've been in retrocomputing for a while,

you probably know that.

It's just a box.

It relies on an external terminal,

a VT100,

or like a lot of people used back in the day,

an ASR33 teletype.

One of the only things left on my bucket list,

by the way.

If I find one of those,

I'm going to make myself unpopular at home again,

because I would really love to have one of those teletypes.

Or you can also use a modern PC

with a terminal emulator.

This is what you use for the user interface,

and I used a VT100.

I had one available, you said, at 9600 baud.

And boom, it was quite a dance to get all this set up.

But once I did, it worked.

The Altair 8800 booted into CPM.

It's difficult to describe the amount of joy

that I had when that happened.

So one more challenge on this whole thing

was convincing my wife and family that,

yes, it really is worth taking up this much additional space

for all this.

They're all actually very supportive

of my strange hobby,

as you know if you've listened to me throughout the years.

This was a lot of stuff.

I did find room for it, though.

Thank goodness.

There have been successes and failures

along the way

of trying to bring these components back to life.

It's still a work in progress.

I'll share some of those also in future parts of this series

and just in the future in general.

And in the next episode,

I'll finally stop threatening to

and I'll talk about the saga

of that ICOM 3812 dual disk drive unit,

another device that was part of this donation.

Meeting Mike Douglas and sharing some of my photos

actually led to a restoration of that device

and data preservation of some disks

that might have been the last ones left on Earth

that had this particular software on them

until we managed to get that software

permanently archived.

So stay tuned for part two

where I will talk about all that.

Wow, that was fun!

Playing together a RetroBits episode.

As mentioned in the beginning,

you can find information about RetroBits

at www.retrobits.com.

Please send any feedback to feedback

at retrobits.com

and you can find me on Twitter

at RetroEarl.

So have fun with these old computers

and I'll chat with you all next time.

Until then, take care.

Bye bye.