About Me


Name::ron st.amant
From::Toronto, Ontario, CA
I'm an American living in Canada because my wife made me...no, no it was my choice...see honey, I said it! In September of '05 we had our first child and the rollercoaster got even more scary. Oh and I'm probably coughing...or complaining about it.
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Recent Posts

Dilemma
JibJab
Flying Solo
Tranquility Base
Wowzers
Questions of Podcasting
Dueling Numbers: 416 versus the 905
The Daily Show Takes On The Gonzales Scandal
*sigh*
Bon Voyage

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Saturday, September 30, 2006

Blair, Wright, and The War on Terror

Tony Blair's farewell speech before the Labour Party Conference [here's a relevant part} The fundamental dilemma: how do we reconcile liberty with security in this new world? I don't want to live in a police state, or a Big Brother society or put any of our essential freedoms in jeopardy. But because our idea of liberty is not keeping pace with change in reality, those freedoms are in jeopardy. When crimes go unpunished, that is a breach of the victim's liberty and human rights. When organised crime gangs are free to practice their evil, countless young people have their liberty and often their lives damaged. When ASB goes unchecked, each and every member of the community in which it happens, has their human rights broken. When we can't deport foreign nationals even when inciting violence the country is at risk. Immigration has benefited Britain. But I know that if we don't have rules that allow us some control over who comes in, goes out, who has a right to stay and who has not, then instead of a welcome, migrants find fear. We can only protect liberty by making it relevant to the modern world. That is why Identity Cards using biometric technology are not a breach of our basic rights, they are an essential part of responding to the reality of modern migration and protecting us against identity fraud. I remember when I introduced the DNA database. On it go all those who are arrested. We were told it was a monstrous breach of liberty. But it is now matching 3,000 offences a month including last year several hundred murders, and thousands of rapes and other violent offences. Difficult reform leading to real progress in the fight against crime. In the next Parliamentary Session, the centre-piece will be John Reid's immigration and law and order reforms. I ask people of all Parties to support them. Let Liberty stand up for the Law-abiding. And of course, the new anxiety is the global struggle against terrorism without mercy or limit. This is a struggle that will last a generation and more. But this I believe passionately: we will not win until we shake ourselves free of the wretched capitulation to the propaganda of the enemy, that somehow we are the ones responsible. This terrorism isn't our fault. We didn't cause it. It's not the consequence of foreign policy. It's an attack on our way of life. It's global. It has an ideology. It killed nearly 3,000 people including over 60 British on the streets of New York before war in Afghanistan or Iraq was even thought of. It has been decades growing. Its victims are in Egypt, Algeria, Indonesia, India, Pakistan, Turkey. Over 30 nations in the world. It preys on every conflict. It exploits every grievance. And its victims are mainly Muslim. This is not our war against Islam. This is a war fought by extremists who pervert the true faith of Islam. And all of us, Western and Arab, Christian or Muslim, who put the value of tolerance, respect and peaceful co-existence above those of sectarian hatred, should join together to defeat them. It is not British soldiers who are sending car bombs into Baghdad or Kabul to slaughter the innocent. They are there along with troops of 30 other nations with, in each case, a full UN mandate at the specific request of the first ever democratically elected Governments of those countries in order to protect them against the very ideology also seeking the deaths of British people in planes across the Atlantic. If we retreat now, hand Iraq over to Al Qaida and sectarian death squads and Afghanistan back to Al Qaida and the Taleban, we won't be safer; we will be committing a craven act of surrender that will put our future security in the deepest peril. Of course it's tough. Not a day goes by or an hour in the day when I don't reflect on our troops with admiration and thanks - the finest, the best, the bravest, any nation could hope for. They are not fighting in vain. But for this nation's future. But this is not a conventional war. It can't be won by force alone. It's not a clash of civilisations. It's about civilisation, about the ideas that shape it. From 9/11 until now I have said again and again. If we want our values to be the ones that govern global change, we have to show that they are fair, just and delivered with an even hand. From now until I leave office I will dedicate myself, with the same commitment I have given to Northern Ireland , to advancing peace between Israel and Palestine. I may not succeed. But I will try because peace in the Middle East is a defeat for terrorism. We must never again let Lebanon become the battleground for a conflict that neither Israeli or Lebanese people wanted though it was they who paid the price for it. Peace in Lebanon is a defeat for terrorism. Action in Africa is a defeat for terrorism. What is happening now in the Sudan cannot stand. If this were in the continent of Europe we would act. Showing an African life is worth as much as a Western one - that would help defeat terrorism too. Yes it's hard sometimes to be America's strongest ally. Yes, Europe can be a political headache for a proud sovereign nation like Britain. But believe me there are no half-hearted allies of America today and no semi-detached partners in Europe. And the truth is that nothing we strive for, from the world trade talks to global warming, to terrorism and Palestine can be solved without America, or without Europe. At the moment I know people only see the price of these alliances. Give them up and the cost in terms of power, weight and influence for Britain would be infinitely greater. Distance this country and you may find it's a long way back. So all these changes of a magnitude we never dreamt of, sweeping the world, are calling for answers of equal magnitude and vision. All require leadership. And here is something else I've learnt. The danger for us today is not reversion to the politics of the 1980s. It is retreat to the sidelines. [Commentary] What Blair addresses is the part of the equation that neither hard left nor hard right in the US and Canada (or Britain) seems willing to discuss. The far right wishes us to close our eyes to the mistakes, the mis-management, the incompetence of the steps taken after 9/11 that culminated in the invasion of Iraq. Conversely, the far left wishes only to discuss the horrors and the mileading case for war. To follow either path is to be caught in a morass that paralyzes us and gives us no hope ever of solving anything. The Bush administration is now reaping the spoils of their conflation of the Iraq invasion with the war on terror as the Afghanistan mission is losing support amongst allies and the very point al-Qaeda and the Taliban are rearming for a new assault. You can try to make the case that the war in Iraq has made things more difficult around the globe to arrest the jihadism that has been growing, and you'd have a point, but it isn't the cause of that jihadism, just an easy excuse. There is a new book out called "The Looming Tower: Al Qaeda's Road to 9/11" by Lawrence Wright, I hope to read it soon in full. Excerpts I've read, however, and interviews I've seen with Wright give me some idea of the case he is attempting to make: that is that the fantacism that developed al-Qaeda had nothing really to do with American foreign policy at all. Al-Qaeda was born of the ideology of brand of Islamic nationalism, its roots in Egypt in the pan-Arab movement in the late 1940s and other post-WW2 anti-colonial movements. But this new violent strain sought a virtual Islamic imperialism of its own, first conquering the Arab states then beyond its borders, the world. American foreign policy, Israel, etc are merely scapegoats (sometimes wittingly so) in the jihadist movement. The Israeli-Palestinian dimension merely made their mission easier, feeding the beast of hatred. There are mistakes to go around in the American governments past and present, and it seems that Wright is able to address those in some detail, but the underlying point of both Wright's book and Blair's speech should be, it seems to me, that whatever you may think of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the decisions made to undertake them, the dilemma involved in each, and around the globe in the larger war on terror is real, important, and more complex than either political side seems willing to grasp in full.

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Friday, September 29, 2006

Millions of anchovies die on Spain beach - Yahoo! News

Millions of anchovies die on Spain beach - Yahoo! News ...an hour later, millions of pepperoni pizzas stormed the beaches in protest!!

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Thursday, September 28, 2006

Your Marching Orders

I sense a great disturbance in the force... and as such I wish to make the following things known to all: Firstly, a very Happy 1st Birthday on Friday to little Alex, son of Wskrz. Ginny Grace says to tell you 1 is the new 0 and go easy on the cake. Also I've noticed that several of my newest blog friends haven't updated their blogs recently. To me this is disturbing be a) it means they have lives and b) I cannot therefore vicariously live through them if I remain uninformed...such injustices must be stopped. Finger update: swelling down, mobility solid, bone a wee sore to the touch, however the limited mobility of yesterday cost me in my paper, rock, scissors sparring match with Gracie. I did not do well, despite the fact that she's one and has no idea what paper, rock, or scissors IS and is therefore rather easy to beat. However I was sort of stuck only playing 'rock' and she managed an accidental 'paper' when opened her hand flat...so therefore my winning streak is over. The only positive about this is that she'll be too young to remember and when I one day challenge her again (after I've shaken off the humiliation) I can just pretend like it NEVER happened. And now you are all in on the conspiracy of silence, thus binding us as a unit, a family, over the 'secret' a picture now 100_0550 Here's a few more things I require... A new post from Life In The Pumpkin Shell, because they are always filled with whimsy and pictures I need to find out what happened to Laura's BonTon blog which was down when I checked earlier...damn those servers...it's bad enough I just can't drive to her house and give her a hug anymore because she's so far away, but to be cut off by probably some nerd in a server room...makes hulk mad....HULK ANGRY...Hulk calming...hulk enjoying cupcake and a latte...hulk...good. There was a news report on CTV tonight that apparently cereal is now added to things that might kill you. So....let's review our list of what can kill you: smoke fire earthquakes violent crime meat eggs milk nuclear weapons the terrorists water SUVs not driving an SUV air no air clowns a midget hopped up on ludes the President (but he just has others do it for him) an angry member of your family an angry member of someone else's family an angry girlfriend an angry wife, who's angry at the girlfriend drinking too much smoking too much eating too much Vegas (where you drink, smoke and eat too much) crayons (it's a long story) a herd of rampaging buffalo OJ- the juice AND 'the Juice'- that's a two-fer and now cereal there's more but I now have carpal tunnel which can't kill you... yet I haven't seen the new list.

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Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Welcome To The Jungle

I was in a hurry this morning trying to get Gracie ready to go with me to Toronto so I could pick up Shell and make it to my 2pm class. The dogs were outside and being a pain, not wanting to come inside so I could leave. I've got a squirming baby in one arm with a diaper bag slung over my shoulder and I'm coaxing the dogs inside. The sliding glass door wouldn't close tight enough for the locking mechanism to actually lock (which is the point of a lock...it's right there in the name- lock). So I slam the door which usually works, and it worked this time as well...except.... My right hand was just at an awkward angle and having what my wife calls 'superstrength' I slammed a bit hard and felt something POP...in fact I more than felt it I sort of heard it right after the POP of the door closing. Drawing back my hand my right index finger is sort of, well, at a 45 degree angle from where it is supposed to.... I'm in incredible pain at this point but I have to get the baby down and get the bag off my shoulder. I lay both on the bed. There's no way I can drive anywhere, I can't even buckle the baby in her carseat with my hand inadvertantly giving myself the finger (just one digit off from it, but that's what it sort of looked like)... Gritting my teeth I just popped it back into place... wow that freaking hurt. It's fine now...some swelling and it's a tad tender but at least it points in the right direction now...see! (I'm pointing it at you) At the moment it's raining outside and I've got Curtis Mayfield singing 'People Get Ready' on my iTunes so the day is closing on a really cool high. In the other room I hear my wife scolding Dixie who refused to come inside from the rain and when she finally did shook water everywhere. Personally I think it's retribution for me scheduling her wash and haircut next Tuesday...Dixie can understand 'human' which is why we have to spell a lot of things in front of her. It was good training for parenthood! To emphasize just how much she hates the water...I was bathing Ginny Grace yesterday and the dogs came in to see what was up. They just sort of stare at the baby as if she's crazed or something...'how could you possibly be enjoying that stuff' they seem to say with their eyes. Dixie was trying to get my attention and distract me from my bath duties so I looked at her and said 'your bath is next'...and I swear to you...she turned tail and RAN out of the bathroom. If she had opposable thumbs she'd have possibly hitched a ride out of town (or at the very least booked a flight online- which may or may not require thumbs the more I think about it). This even after Shell picked me up from my class, we walked down to the bookstore on campus and I got my hands on some of my books for this semester. The bookstore on campus is an evil place. It's no longer owned and operated by the University, which in my capitalist heart I enjoy, but in my selfish meglomanical soul I hate because they just spit on students- metaphoically...though I wouldn't put it past them let me tell you. I generally order my books online which is great because I don't actually have to go INTO the bookstore, I just pick up my order at a counter under the stairs (yeah seriously...it's under the stairs in all its Harry Potterian glory). But for some reason when I went to get my order it was only half filled- my textbook and coursebook for Australian History was not there, neither was one of my Imperial Russia books which I needed because I have to read it by Tuesday. The guy at the counter, let's call him Napolean Dynamite, cuz that's who he looked like and had the same joie de vie...y'know, pure houseplant. Anyway he mumbled incoherently for about 5 minutes until I wrangled from him the fact that my books were on backorder. Except, as it turns out, only ONE of those missing books was on backorder, the other 2 were in the labyrinth from Hell (aka Koffler Centre Bookstore, proper). We venture inside, risking the mental health of my offspring, passing some kitsch stuff like the "Freudian Slippers" (which to be honest for twelve seconds I almost wanted) and the stuffed Ghandi dolls (which is too ironic for words)...after the sort of search that would require a sherpa on a good day, I found my books and we beat a hasty retreat to the safety of downtown traffic. So now I've got a sore finger, a wet mutt, a traumatized 1 yr-old, a tired wife, and 200 pages of 19th century Russian literature to read... but at least my slipper-less feet still have their dignity!

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Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Godspeed Lord Byron

DALLAS (AP) -- Byron Nelson, who had the greatest year in the history of professional golf when he won 18 tournaments in 1945, including 11 in a record row, died Tuesday. He was 94. There was no cause of death listed on the Tarrant County Medical Examiner's Web site Tuesday. Known as "Lord Byron" because of his elegant swing and gentle manner, Nelson won 31 of 54 tournaments in 1944-45. Then, at the age of 34, he retired after the 1946 season to spend more time on his Texas ranch. Byron Nelson had what many golfers believe to be the perfect swing. In fact the testing robotic swing machine that manufacturers and golf associations use to test balls and clubs is known as "The Iron Byron" because it supposedly mimics his pure swing. Nelson was a legend on and off the golf course. His book "Winning Golf" is still considered perhaps the greatest book on golf ever written...and he wrote it 60 years ago! He appeared nearly ever year at the tournament named for him The Byron Nelson Classic, and could almost always be found in a chair just off the 18th hole where every golfer would greet him after their final round. His record of 11 tournament wins in one year might wind up being the only record Tiger Woods doesn't break when his careers is over. Nelson and fellow Texan Ben Hogan, along with Sam Snead were the first power trifecta in a golden age of golf, though they would somewhat be overshadowed by Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, and Gary Player when their threesome ruled golf for the next two decades. "When I was playing regularly, I had a goal," Nelson recalled years later. "I could see the prize money going into the ranch, buying a tractor, or a cow. It gave me incentive." I don't know very much," Nelson said in a 1997 interview with The Associated Press. "I know a little bit about golf. I know how to make a stew. And I know how to be a decent man." Not a bad recipe for gentleman if you ask me.

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Two Posts In A Night (can't be a good sign)

I suppose technically it's tomorrow (or today, er rather the day after the other post and therefore NOT two posts in a day but merely two posts hours apart...though in Hawaii it's still yesterday today...yeah it's been THAT kind of day...yesterday) It's nearly 1am is what I'm trying to say! I just feel alone tonight. Shell went to bed early right after putting the baby down and left me to watch the horrible-ness that was the Falcons served up to the Saints on the Monday Football game. Sure, someone shouldn't get so wrapped up in a silly old game, but I've been a Falcons fan for 30+ years and I've suffered...SUFFERED says I, as a loyal fan- not the kind who just bought the jersey because Mike Vick is cool. I lived through the coaching of Marion Campbell (TWICE!) Anyway, a loss like that just leaves me cold. Emotionally. Which would be fine IF I wasn't also PHYSICALLY cold because I got so sopping wet at the aborted softball game where I soaked through three layers of clothes, my skin, and I think my reincarnated self (who by the way will be a tiki torch salesman in Chico, California...but that's a story for a different time. *tap tap tap* Is anyone even out there? Helloooooooooo.... I decided not to take my sleeping pill tonight (mistake, much?) and now even the dogs are looking at their wrists and muttering, "dude, seriously...we've got to catch some shut-eye...we've got squirrel duty at 0900". When your dogs turn their backs (and hind legs) on you, not to mention make lame ass excuses like that, you're just screwed pal. s-c-rewed. I did however manage to see one of my favorite episodes of The Sopranos (Fortunate Son- where Tony figures out his panic attacks are meat-related because he saw his dad chop off the fingers of the butcher, and Chris gets made finally and has to resort to robbing a Jewel concert to make enough money to pay points up to Paulie). So the night wasn't a total loss. Unless you're Chris (or Jewel)I guess. It just reminds me that I've got to get an evening part-time job soon. I too have to kick some moolah upstairs...except in my case it isn't my mob overboss- just my wife who pays all the bills. In mafia lingo she's a good earner. In mafia lingo I'm Fredo...and we all know where he ended up, capice?!? Mind you I don't think she'd have me whacked...just maybe break a thumb...maybe. She's been the breadwinner and I've been the stay at home Dad, which I think has been good for Gracie's first year but I've got to get back in the game and take some of the pressure off...wet my beak a little too...I'm jonesin' for a DVD rush and I want a new camera, a working video camera, oh and a pony. (ok not really, but I had you there...juuuuuuuust for a second) The weather forecastster/witch doctor says that this weekend is going to get bitterly cold, the high will be 10C on Saturday...the high...THE HIGH!!!!! Apparently the low will be like Neptune, so Shell has the electric blanket on the bed which when heated after I've showered with my peach soap and shampoo'd (that sounds gross) with my watermelon shampoo makes me smell kinda like a cobbler...not the shoesmith- the baked fruit dessert kind of cobbler. I really need to sleep, can't you tell? I even fired up my chat platforms tonight to see if someone could spare me the echo chamber that is my 1am sleepless brain...but alas it seems everyone I know is somewhere else...probably having a life, or sleeping, or even being inaugurated into the mob (not likely, but you never can tell these days)... But to be on the safe side, I'm staying away from Jewel concerts.

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Monday, September 25, 2006

Strange Days


100_3587
Originally uploaded by AmericaninCanada. Today I had to meet with my Russian History professor, so I packed up Ginny Grace and we drove into town.
Gracie was raucous in my prof's office, not noisy, just wound up. She played with some blocks that my prof had, then she was given some rubles to play with...of course she really liked the money (so her mother's daughter).
I took her over to the JCR to give her some lunch and we ran into Rachel and had a chat while GG munched some Cheerios. Then out in the courtyard I took a ton of pictures of her and this is the one I thought came out great (you can look at some others at my Flickr).
We picked up Shell and drove straight to my game, where the girls dropped me off and headed home. They were supposed to come back and get me at 8:30 after my game but...

It started to drizzle as the game began, and somewhere in the 4th inning, one of the spectators was leaning against the light pole and accidentally shut off the lights. Since they're the type that takes a half hour to restart AND it was by now pouring rain, they called the game (postponed until tomorrow night). So one of the guys gave me a soaked ride home where I found Gracie and Shelley making me some yummy dinner and cleaning up so I wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow.

[by the way at the time of the lights out we were losing 6-3, but I'd gone 2 for 2 and driven in 2 of our 3 runs...the rescheduled game tomorrow night starts from scratch] For some reason tonight though I'm feeling rather down...can't seem to figure it.

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Sunday, September 24, 2006

Will We Be Tested On This??

In an effort to get to know some of the newer people that have found there way over into my little corner of the world (and I hope you brought a friend with you...or at least enough gum for the whole class)...I've decided to make this little questionnaire. Now relax, there's no 'right' answer, and besides I grade on a curve anyway. #1- We're at the video store and I say 'hey let's each get our guilty pleasure movie?' You grab what movie? Which movie do you think I'd grab? #2- I've invited you over for dinner and your just praying that I didn't make ____________ . #3- I'm looking through your bookshelves. Which book do I find that is completely worn from being read so much? Which book am I probably suprised to find? Which book hasn't been cracked? #4- My car has just broken down and I call you in an emergency to pick me up. You rush out the door and as you pull up and I open the door you're hoping I don't notice _____________ . #5- I meet some people from your high school. They tell me everyone thought you were most likely to _____________ . #6- We're at a family gathering and you introduce me to your parents. You run to hid under the nearest table when your mother or father begins to tell the story about the time you _____________ . #7- I'm helping you move and while rummaging through your attic we come across your old record collection and you try to hide the fact that you once listened to ______________ . #8- It's a Friday night and I happen to be in your neighborhood, so I pay an unexpected visit, I probably find you _________________ . #9- It's your birthday and when I arrive at your party you're hoping I brought ____________ . and your last question... #10- You and I find a time machine and we go back and meet your eighteen-year old self, the one thing you are desperate to tell them is _______________ . Here's your bonus gift for finishing the questionnaire...Ask me a question, any question you want. It could be one of the 10 or one of your own...

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Friday, September 22, 2006

Wrong Way Ron

100_3324 This week, in a nutshell...craaaaaazy Shelley and I had a wonderful time at the Jays game (as you can tell I DEFINITELY had a good time...woohoo)...ahem...where was I?? Oh yeah. Shell almost caught a foul ball, it came whizzing by our table but was tackled by a very zealous Yankee fan. Shell was happy to finally see her baseball boyfriend Derek Jeter, and she almost stormed the field when he got hit by a pitch...she probably would have tried to give him mouth to mouth- "He's not unconscious ma'am, he got hit on the wrist" Anyway, she drowned her sorrows in a sack of Twizzlers. I could tell the way she chomped them she was rethinking her choice to marry me when she could have a shotrstop for the Yankees. Twizzlers replacing whiskey as a drug of choice to drown out the inner screams. Oh well, I might not have his looks or his money...but then again I don't have his looks or his money. I console myself with the realization that he probably couldn't make her laugh the way I do. I mean he's too coordinated to fall down the stairs, or trip and fall over the dog. (that's always gets a big laugh). At least I haven't found her, yet, sitting up in the middle of the night watching sports highlights from the YES network and slowly replaying him stealing second to see his butt...though I'm fairly certain she DID mention his butt at one point that night, but I've blocked it out...trauma says I. But that little trauma was NOTHING to compare with the single worst moment of my life which happened Wednesday evening. I made it to class early and I really had to use the restroom. I wasn't sure where it was, but I saw the signs pointing to the bathrooms and I ducked inside. Now the idea that there were no urinals did not immediately light in my head (and for those who are mentally reading ahead you know where this is going but bear with me). I opened one of the stall doors and stood there and did my thing, and I noticed a box mounted on the wall that read "For Sanitary Napkins". This would be the point where one would hope that "the clue" had tapped me on the shoulder and said "Hi"..but still it wasn't fully formed. It was there in the back of my brain but got crowded out by thoughts like "ah this is an old building" and "maybe this is one of those that serves both" except those usually have locks on the door. Such is the logic that did not as yet slap me square in the head. As I started to open the door though and saw in a flash a woman standing at the sink it hit me. Oh dear God I'm in the Women's Bathroom. Panic. What do I do? Walking out now will just frighten the poor woman and screams of "Masher" will flood the Physics building. (Yes, 'masher' because my brain works like its the 1930s...it comes from watching too many "Thin Man" movies). I decided to wait her out as it were. So I stand in the door to the stall and think about how I'll have to rush out and yet be calm at the same time. The rule being if you are somewhere you aren't supposed to be, pretend like you're supposed to be (it's an old backstage at a concert concept that has served me well). As I'm waiting though a second woman enters and tries the stall door where I'm hiding, terrified. It's then that I realized because I was thinking about making a 'bolt' for the door, the more pressing 'bolt'- the one to the stall door shielding me from embarrassment and perhaps a stain on my police record- is anything but 'bolted'. She pushes. I...push back. She shoves. I'm built line an offensive lineman honey..you ain't goin' nowhere. She finally tries the next stall. Now is my chance. No one in the sink area. Coast is clear...ish. I hurry to the door, which is an inner door, then to the outer door. As I'm just about to breathe a sigh of relief for a clean getaway, and thankfully no arrest warrants, I open the door and am greeted by, basically, MY ENTIRE CLASS waiting in the hallway for the preceding class to let out. But here's where I become...smooooooth. Without even looking up, really, or making ANY eye contact, I hustle around the corner as if there was nothing wrong at all, please move along, you did not see what you just saw...Freedom...Horrible Horrible Freedom. Winded, red-faced, and feeling sick to my stomach there was as yet one pressing problem...I needed to wash my hands! And I still didn't know, obviously, where the correct gender bathroom was. Luckily for me this building is built with hallways going all over the place, so actually when I just continue to make left had turns I'll wind up back in front of the room I'm supposed to go in. As I turn down the backstretch of this obstacle course I notice ahead of me the Men's Room. The only problem is...it's right there in THE hallway where the people I'm trying to avoid are still waiting (hey I was off by only 1 door...I should get points for that). I decide that the only thing to do is wait until they go into class, then slip into the Men's Room, wash up, and then hope that when I walk into class I'm not the subject of boos, catcalls, and hysterics. So I wait. and wait. and wait. I read all the science experiments in the glass cases...apparently a couple of dudes are trying to determine the physcial properties of something and prove that something does something else...I don't know...I don't read science geek. It had pictures though. Well as you can probably tell, I managed to escape my plight and as yet have not had to register as a sex offender or anything. I made it though class and no one seemed to cast any raised eyebrows my way (at least that I saw...but then again I was staring at the ground the whole lecture). One thing is for certain- I know where the men's room is on the first floor of the Physics building...bet Derek Jeter doesn't.

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Tuesday, September 19, 2006

A Fool In The Rain

100_3257 With as sick as I've been lately, you would think I'd be taking it somewhat easy on myself. Well...you'd be wrong. The weekend was just insane. Everything was geared toward Gracie's brithday party coming off without a hitch. Shelley and I were worried that we wouldn't get the house in order, and also that the weather was going to be very uncooperative. The end of last week was supposed to see the sun slowly come out and improve things but as we sat downstairs Saturday night things just didn't look good. "How will we fit 30 people and 5 kids IN the house if it rains tomorrow?" I told her not to worry that I would promise her to make the sun come out before the party. What hubris eh? But I wasn't going to have clouds and rain and chilly air ruin my baby's party. So as promised at noon on Sunday the sun came out. The temp went up and we have an absoultey lovely day. [you can follow the Flickr link at the left, or click on the picture to see more of the photos]. I tried to stave off the worst of my cough and pretend like I wasn't running a fever but by the time I went to bed Sunday night I was a mess again. Monday I tried to get out of the house and find some quiet time to work no my Imperial Russia readings. But I had my playoff game so I rushed back home to make dinner, feed Gracie and change for my game. Here's where the weather paid me back for my hubris on Sunday. It started pouring rain about 4:30. I kept checking my team website to see if the league had called the game but every half hour was the same...nothing. So at 8pm I'm gear up and drive out to the field. Sure enough we are a go. And I spend about 2 and a half hours in a steady rain with the wind bringing a chill to my damp jersey. The good news is we won (8-6) so we keep playing another week. The bad news is I feel even MORE under the weather than before. I did manage to get an appointment this afternoon with my doctor, and last night I didn't cough as bad as I had been, but I'm still feeling it. Shelley was given 2 Club VIP seats for the Jays-Yankees game tonight so since we've got our resident babysitters for one last night we're actually going out on a date...so I don't care if I'm in a coma I'm going to damn well spend a nice evening alone with my wife (alone being a relative thing when there are 30,000 people in the stands). I've recently loaded (or am loading) up a few other films I made to my You Tube account so if you'd like you can go to Ron's You Tube and check them out. I've still got a few more I have to upload. Also I promise the next post will be funny and full of snark...because I'll make sure to drink cough medicine beforehand!

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Friday, September 15, 2006

For My Birthday Girl

This will take a while to load because it's a pretty large file, but it's my latest movie, all for my little bubs on her birthday! :) Click the link below Father and Daughter

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Gracie's First Year!!!

Gracie's First Year!!!
Originally uploaded by AmericaninCanada.

What an amazing roller coaster ride this year has been.

One minute you think you know everything in the world, and the next minute they are handing you this little person and sending you off into the world...what no manual??

No.

It's just the two of you and this little bundle of coos and cries.

Some how the facade of big strong tough guy is shattered when you hold this tiny being in your arms and she starts to suck on your pinky.

There's the first time she smiles at you. The first time you make her laugh. The first time she gives you a kiss. The first time she calls you 'Dada'.

I wouldn't trade this year for all the gold in the world- when I look at my wife and daughter sitting on the floor together, reading a book or playing 'peeks' I'm just the richest man in the world.

Virginia Grace, I love more than you can ever know. You make your Daddy so incredibly happy.

Happy Birthday little bug...and watch out, the tickle monster is coming to get ya.

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Thursday, September 14, 2006

Nostalgia


shellianbw
Originally uploaded by AmericaninCanada.

In the last week I've been scanning in old photos taken before our lovely age of digital cameras (thanks to the people in the digital studio at Robarts for the endless time on their machines).

Looking through them, the bulk of which was taken in San Francisco, I've just been terribly nostalgic for the strange nomadic life Shell and I led back then.

Which is strange since we both pretty much HATED San Franicsco.

Yesterday we were driving home from Toronto, (Gracie was being watched by my parents so we were alone- a rarity) and the afternoon was bleak, foggy, overcast- basically what the weather is like in SF most of the time.

Traffic was a nightmare trying to get out of downtown and make it the few blocks from her studio to the highway, so we decided to just turn down one of the side streets and go as far west as we could and skip as much of it as possible.

The whole scene, of the little Toronto neighborhoods, clouded over with mist, and the back streets...well it just had this flashpoint memory for both of us. We actually started to make the same point to one another simultaneously.

Life back then wasn't exactly carefree, and Shell's project really threw her for a loop, but we did manage to have some fun.

Taking Dixie to Fort Funston was the high point of our week- the Sunday drive was always welcome and Dixie would just get so excited when she smelled the beach as we got closer and closer.

There were the nights we wandered around to go to a party and tried to find parking in that god awful city. Or when we'd cruise out somewhere for dinner and then go see a movie (like the night we went to the famous Castro theater to see 2001: A Space Odyssey in its namesake year re-release- they had a pipe organist in the theatre who played before the show...just cool). There were the hikes up Bernal Hill to an amazing view, and the midnight drives to the Krispy Kreme store, and the hours of watching Buffy tapes cuddled up in bed with Dixie snoring away on the floor.

We can't get any of those back, and all we have are memories now. I'm not sure we fully appreciated the freedom we had then, and I certainly wouldn't trade anything we have now to go back, but I do wish we had that house we lived in...very nice Victorian place. Also I wish we had Fort Funston, and some of the friends we had there...like Ian (Mr Ian Greeb).

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Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Penultimate, Perhaps

My softball team lost last night. The playoffs are a double elimination so we are still in but now our next game could be our last. We were down 11-2 early, then 14-5 late and finally closed to 17-14 going into the 9th. We got the tying run at the plate but failed to go further. It was disappointing because I know we could beat them, and made a great comeback only to fall short. I had a pretty good night personally, going 4 for 5 with 2 doubles, driving in 4, scoring 3 times. I have the most hits, tied for the lead in doubles, I have the lead in runs scored and I'm narrowly fourth in BRIs and average. When I include my other team I had a season where I hit well over .700 and had 12 home runs- by far my best total in one year. I would love to close this year out with a championship...I don't know if it's a reality at this point but we're still in it and that's all one can hold on to. Team Wackers Soon I'll be heading out to class (Imperial Russia) then heading to the sleep clinic for the second test. After a peaceful night on Sunday, my cough came back last night and I was up until 5 in the morning (with only the news of the US Embassy attack in Damascus to focus on...great, just great). I don't know how I'll deal with tonight, especially if I start having a cough with all the wires and stuff attached to me. I talked to Shell this morning when she got to work and she already misses me...if I get out of class quickly enough tonight I might get to see her before she catches the train home, other wise it will be tomorrow night before I see my wife...ugh.

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Monday, September 11, 2006

A Meme From Ange

1...Things that scare me losing Shell or Gracie flying insects my voice fanaticism 2...People who make me laugh My wife The Marx Brothers Woody Allen Most of my friends 3...Things I hate the most wing-nuts warm milk all of the things that scare me 4...Things I don't understand quantum physics most languages the popularity of Oprah 5...Things I'm doing right now typing coughing getting ready to play softball 6...Things I want to do before I die figure out a cure for death play golf in Scotland write a book 7...Things I can do play harmonica cook an occasionally edible meal make a complete jackass out of myself 8...Ways to describe my personality feh meh pthbbbbt 9...Things I can't do describe my personality use power tools walk and chew gum (allegedly) 10...Things I think you should listen to Your mother Old people in general Sticky Fingers 11...Things you should never listen to My mother Old people who talk to trash cans on the street corner John Tesh albums 12...Things I'd like to learn to play guitar how to be a good dad how to be a good husband 13...Favorite foods the cooked kind some raw kinds most things that don't bite back 14...Beverages I drink regularly milk water pepsi (though it is killing me) 15...Shows I watched as a kid The Electric Company (0-5) Underdog (5-10) Rocky and Bullwinkle (10-the day I die...unless I invent that cure for death in number 6)

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5 Years

9/11/01 In my apartment on the campus of the University of Utah, I woke up late and because I needed to be at a meeting in ResLife about 5 minutes before, I did not turn on the TV as was my normal routine while getting dressed. I was working in what would be Olympic Village and as we were 4 months away from handing over control of our multi-million dollar facilities to the Salt Lake Olympic Committee my life work-a-day life was tense. We had to coordinate moving student residents into our old facilities, and essentially moving heaven and earth to accomodate everyone and everything. I'd spent more time in Olympic Village than just about anyone on campus- in fact I moved into the Grad Student apartments a few months after they'd opened when my first marriage collapsed, and my office was the first one that had opened leaving me alone, detatched from ResLife's main office and overseeing a virtual ghost town. I and my staff that I had been transitioning and building (from 7 student workers to eventually 22) spent a great deal of 2000 showing the FBI around, listening to them plot out where they could land helicopters in the case of a terrorist attack- little knowing that a few months later that would be a very real possibility. So there I was rushing around my apaprtment. By that morning the office had moved up to the Village, so my meeting was only 3 buildings away...a matter of less than 200 yards. Walking through the doors I was worried about having to apologize for holding up the meeting. I'd have to tell them that I'd been up for most of the night, on the phone with Shelley who was in her apartment in San Francisco and was undergoing the first great shock of her week. Billy Greene, a brilliant animator she had worked with in Portland and at the time in San Francisco, had been gunned down in front of his apartment on Sunday night the victim of an apparent random robbery gone horribly awry. They had told everyone Monday morning and she was in shock quite understandably. She had been planning to fly to Salt Lake to spend some time with me the following weekend, but now she was trying to cancel her flight and make one for me to fly out there for the funeral and to be with her, all the while crying and needing me who was 600 miles away. We'd managed to get me a flight out Wednesday evening, and so on top of being late I was going to have to tell my boss that I was going to be gone for the rest of the week. Tired and worried, and missing the woman I had fallen in love with over the last 5 months, I walked into the office preparing for the worst. If only I knew... It was eerily still. The first thought I had was that it looked like I wasn't the only person who was late- there were about half of the normal staff and those who were there huddled around a television in the lobby were staring wide eyed at the images from New York. By that point the second plane had hit, and both towers were engulfed in smoke and flame. I don't remember whether I knew then that the Pentagon had also been hit. My boss Curtis, who had a very quiet voice, was even more incoherently mumbling as he put his hand on my shoulder and said something like 'we'll have this meeting quick' In the conference room we just sort of sat there. I'm not sure we even HAD an actual meeting, 3 or 4 of the people who were supposed to be there were gone, and I remember thinking that all I wanted to do was get to my office and call Shelley. After some time we just sort of broke the meeting and I quickly told Curtis what had happened in San Francisco and that's when the first tower fell. I ran to my office, called Shelley at her studio, and they were pretty much coming apart at the seams there. They were sending everyone home, she was crying, saying she just wanted to go home to Canada- they were closing the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridge- the airports were closed- she felt trapped in a foreign country, I felt trapped in the Wasatch Mountains. The rest of the day was spent trying to contact all the students with home addresses in the New York area, DC, and Pennsylvania and standing by my phone for any of them who needed anything. The news on the radio was listing places that the FBI had supposedly deemed 'possible targets'- one of which was where I just happened to be sitting- Olympic Village. In retrospect it was a silly notion, but at the moment it seemed so real. The evening was spent with CNN on mute and Shelley on the phone. As cold and strange as it may sound, I wasn't really grieving for the victims at the time, because all I could think about was whether or not I could get to San Francisco, to hold my girl and tell her everything was going to be alright. In a way, her fear and grief was what I was clinging to and reassuring her seemed my only task. The next few days were a game of constant disappointment- 'they might open the airports', 'everything is still grounded', 'maybe Thursday'...our travel agent called me every 3 hours it seemed. I finally flew out on the first plane from SLC bound for Oakland- Friday afternoon. The airport was jammed with people who had been stranded for days. Lines were long everywhere with heightened security. Armed National Guardsmen patrolled the terminals. It was almost completely silent. Not a single person complained about anything. I rode next to a flight attendant who was finally getting back to her family in the Bay Area after what had to have been the single most frightening week for people in her business. The whole plane seemed like a church. I made it to Oakland, took the BART across the Bay, got to Shell's arms finally and we cried together for hours. That night we went to someone's house, sat in the living room sort of numb. Saturday we went to Billy's memorial service. It was in a community centre and they had some of his art there. They showed some of his animation, including his very first stop-mo film he made in his early teens. We sat on the floor. Everybody sang, we talked about what had happend on Sunday and Tuesday. The city was still in mourning for the attacks, and Billy's drum band filed into the street and played on the sidewalks- everywhere people stopped, looked, watched. We were celebrating life in the midst of so much death. I was in awe that day, of the ability of the human spirit to rise above, to lift people beyond grief and unite them in, as cliched as it may sound, love. I stayed with Shelley until Wednesday, took the BART back to Oakland, and flew home. This time the airports were quiet because almost no one was flying. In Oakland terminal I watched as they resumed playing baseball. Everyone was struggling to get back to some kind of normalcy. The nighttime flight to Salt Lake was eeire. There were maybe 20 of us on the plane. No one in my aisle. I leaned my head on the cold window and watched the lights of the Bay Area disappear behind the emptiness of Sierras. An hour and a half later we began our descent into SLC, across that dead lake, back to the city I had grown to love, but far from the woman I had grown to love. The captain came over the speaker. "We are arriving in Salt Lake City, local time is 12:30am. Thank you for flying with us...and God Bless America" I cried. I couldn't stop it. It was everything there in his simle message- the return to normal, with the scars of the tragedy. Loss and faith. The airport in Salt Lake was empty and dark. We few who were coming in shuffled in near silence past the janitors mopping and vacuuming. I caught the parking shuttle, drove to my apartment, and laid down in bed still dressed. The previous ten days had seemed like a thousand. I could not know then that in five years Shelley and I would marry, move to Canada, have a baby girl. If I had, perhaps I would not have felt so alone and lost that night. Luckily for me those things did happen, but for those who died that horrible morning, and for Billy, none of those things or many other equally fabulous experiences would ever happen. For them, and for us, may we all find peace again.

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Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Longest Journeys

start with a few steps... or so the proverb tells us. Well the few steps of Ginny Grace's journey started tonight when she took her first steps!!!! She's been inadvertantly standing (the Wile E. Coyote thing where she doesn't realize it) so tonight we decided to plop her between us and try to get her to walk to each other..which she did. most of the time it was like Yellowbeard "stagger, stagger, crawl, stagger" but she did manage to take a series of steps on several occasions and we have deemed those 'actual walking steps' as did the everyone (except the French judges who we all know are always on the take). Tonight the living room, tomorrow THE WORLD!! So get in while the getting is good because when she's taken over the globe the streets will flow red with the blood of the non-believers... or something [x-posted to LiveJournal]

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Aussies, Tsars and Sci-Fi, Oh My!

I think I'm ready to begin the semester, though for the first time all my courses are completely out of my focus. I won't have the safety of an American Studies class to relax upon when I feel faint. Instead I'm on a Survey of Australian History and the History of Imperial Russia. So the first half of the year might be a struggle- though in the spring I get to enjoy a course on American Science Fiction...(cue X-Files music). This week is a crazy one so I don't know how much updating I'll get to do and I really want to stay on top of my rejuvenated blog. But Monday night I have game 2 of my G'town softball playoffs. If we win we go into the winner's bracket and guaranteed 2 more games with a chance at the championship. If we lose we still play next Monday but the road to the championship is more difficult. Tuesday I have my first class and then I stay overnight in town for the second sleep study. Wednesday I have my other class, and then Thursday we're taking my parents to Niagara Falls for the day- where I hope to sneak in an hour or so at the Paigow tables. The Friday (Ginny Grace's actual birthday) I've got to get the backyard ready for her birthday party, and Saturday I may or may not have a team party for my other softball team. Finally Sunday is the party and mass hysteria will likely ensue. *pant pant* See what I mean?? That's a fully loaded week. Extra special hugs go out to Elise who is off to Grad School at Stanford (I'm so not worthy...) You should all get to know her because soon she'll be ruling the world and I'm staying on her good side.

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Saturday, September 09, 2006

A Tour Through Orwell

I was watching the President's press conference the other day, the second in a series of three where he is laying out the Rovian midterm strategy called "Democrats Hate America and Love the Terrorists" also know as "Operation: Look Out Behind You!!" Generally speaking, such speeches do not affect me as much as others because I know the game and I know how to separate fact from White House fiction. Of course I have bought into OvalFic before...I mean I fell for the WMD buring a chemical hole in Saddam's back pocket hook-line-and sinker. Esssentially the President had me at "Hello...we know where the weapons are". Sure a lot of it had to do with the fact that it came out of the mouth of Colin Powell, someone who usually isn't given to brash overstatements- especially in front of the UN General Assembly. I guess my point is, I always thought "Who'd lie THAT big...in public". It wasn't about an intern after all...this was actual life and/or death stuff. Now I still think removing Saddam was a good thing...I just wish the Apple Dumpling Gang hadn't been in charge of policy after Baghdad fell. By now though the issue of should we or shouldn't we have done it is a bit moot, at least as far as policy going forward. We can't leave now or things would get worse, but we can't 'stay the course' because the course is a dead end. This is the debate we need, and might still have, but for the way the fringes of both parties are framing the question. Yet this really wasn't the subject of the speech that had me at sixes and sevens and angry about it. What had me peeved was the Orwellian dance the President was having with the nature of 'torture' and secret CIA prisons and programs. The administration is pushing for legislation that would 'give flexibility' to those attempting to get information from captured terrorists. He proclaimed there was no 'torture' but left free (or shall we say 'flexible') the nature of what 'torture' means. I'm not sure who it was that said this, but someone unrelated to the Bush administration made what I consider to be the perfect definition of 'torture', one that I think we should as a nation rise up and except: 'Torture' is any means or method of interrogation that we would not allow of captured American soldiers. One would think that a President supposedly steeped in religion would recognize "The Golden Rule" when it slapped him in the face like that. The legislation is in itself a parlor game devised by Rove and his minions to bait the Democrats into voting against it, thus enabling the President to carry-on with the "Democrats love the Terrorists" campaign. It's a wonderfully twisted 1+1 equals 3 plan that they hope keeps the GOP above the magic 218...otherwise it might be time to befriend your local process server, because Santa might be bringing Subpoenas in your stockings. So while Rove stirs the cauldron, and Bush and Cheney chant 'toil and trouble', soldiers are suffering the daggers.

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Friday, September 08, 2006

The New Normal

If you are wondering (or wandering) and can't figure out why this place looks so different...just read the last post and it will hopefully answer your questions...with more questions. Sorry to those who popped on and were greeted with Latin (waves to Elise)...I decided to make the changes swift and sudden...hence you are now staring at Toys in the Attic (or as David St.Hubbins would say "Spinal Tap Mach 2...we hope you like our new direction") I had a fairly humiliating experience when I went for my medical tests this week. The short version is that they were unable to do the tests that were scheduled for reasons I prefer not to go into (yeah still some crypticism- is that a word?). The long version is that I spent all day and night Tuesday strapped to a blood pressure monitor which every half hour squeezed the Bejeezus out of me and, presumably, monitored my blood pressure- as the name of the machine would indicate. This made for an unbelievably uncomfortable day and evening as one might imagine. Still I survived and prepared for the stress test the next morning. Bright and early Wednesday I headed into Toronto for my 9am appointment. I was ushered into a waiting room where I...well...waited. Then they brought me into another room where I stripped from the waist up and put on a hospital gown-open to the front- that was so small there really was no purpose served by wearing the gown itself. I was sent back to the waiting room to...well...wait some more...this time wearing my hospital gown/cape, clutching my clothes, water bottle, and paperwork like a drunk superhero doing the walk of shame. Before they returned several other people came into the waiting room, mostly elderly women all wondering why there was a half-naked ape-man in their midst. I'm pretty sure I heard one of them utter the Italian word for "Sasquatch" but, not speaking Italian, I could just be projecting a little. Finally a trainee doctor, that's all I can call him because he was wearing the white coat but he was just a student I think...and the pool floaties were a dead giveaway that this guy didn't quite have his learner's permit yet. So the little George Clooney wannabe, takes me back into the other room where I had changed and begins to shave my torso. Now I'm perfectly comfortable with my sexuality...but it IS a tad unsettling to have a small Asian 20-something male SHAVING my chest and stomach. This time I'm SURE I heard the Chinese word for 'Kong' but again...probably projecting. After 'the shaving' he placed 8 electrodes on me, told me to put my cape back on and go back to the waiting room to...well...ah screw it y'know. Anyway, I sit there until a lovely nurse comes to get me, takes me back to the other room again and puts an IV in me with a saline syringe and tapes it (like she's strapping luggage to the roof of a car) and sends me back to the waiting room. It was after all this that the REAL humiliating part happened and I was told they could not perform the test on me after all. The doctor would have to call my doctor and have the procedure rescheduled at another hospital. So, sheepishly, they removed my IV and chunks of arm hair, then de-electroded me removing chunks of ME but no hair since the shaving had been so thorough. And there I was, standing in the hospital hallway, wearing a blue cape and looking like Steve Correll in "The 40-year old Virgin" with huge swaths of chest hair gone in a random patchwork (the least they could have done was give me his smiley-face).

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The Ch-ch-ch-changes Edition

I've been thinking about changing the nature of the TGIF for quite sometime and after much soul-searching I've come to a few decisions... There have been some issues directly related to some of the things I've posted within in the last several months. Without going into the gory details, what I will tell you is that I was deeply hurt by some of these issues. This isn't the first time something like this has occurred and in the past I've just exploded in my 'freedom of speech, damn the torpedoes' sort of way that I generally exude when my back is up. This time however I've just decided that fighting 'City Hall' at the expense of someone I care about being made to feel pressured is just not worth it. Yes, I'm being cryptic by necessity. So while this WILL NOT be the last TGIF-ish post, it will be the last one that is sent out with an email alert attached. This way, if you choose to find it you still may by simply checking in every so often to see if there's been an update or two, but if you choose otherwise we can just all pretend that it doesn't exist and you won't be spammed in your inbox. The TGIF will likely undergo a name change as well, and I'll post shorter yet more frequent pieces...ideally. (Not mention yet another redesign) At the moment I'm thinking about calling it 'Toys in the Attic' but I'm willing to take comments and suggestions. Adieu!

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