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Oct. 30th, 2009

Oooo!

The Great Green.

North Atlantic water is greenblack.  Not blackish green or greenish black, "greenblack."  It is simultaneously and fully both colors.  It hides an ancient anger under its impervious surface -- even the foam made by the ship intruding through it hurries back into the depths so as not to belie its true nature.  It's anger isn't focused on anything in particular.  It is pure, pent-up fury that has been waiting to be unleashed for longer than God has been keeping track, and will continue to wait like a betrayed woman. 

Sep. 30th, 2009

Oooo!

(no subject)

 Mealtime on the Solstice is a gamble in the crew mess. I have the good fortune to be a staff member, which provides me the option of eating in the guest area, and enjoying guest food during off-peak hours. But once in awhile, I am too busy or too lazy to dress appropriately for this privilege so I eat in the crew area. 

Most food in the crew mess is consistent. You can count on the roast beef to be just a little dry. Lamb is going to have too much curry. Mixed vegetables are just-past-fresh. Burgers are good. Cheesecake will be sugar-free (even though it's not labeled as such). The good is good and the bad is bad, but it is pretty consistent. Except the salads.

 
 
By "salad" I mean meat/pasta/veggie/etc salads; not make-it-yourself-salad-bar salads. The salads in the guest area are sometimes wonderful and original concoctions that tantalize the taste and pander to the palette. The failures can be judged by looking at guest's plates on the way in – if I see a scoop of salad with one fork-full missing, I know to steer clear. If I see a new bin of salad replacing an empty one, it’s probably a safe bet. Since seasoned crew will eat just about anything, a different set of criteria applies.

The laws of food physics are twisted and distorted in the temporal anomaly of the crew mess. The menu choices for entrees and vegetables are static and unchanging, while the salad sector becomes wildly unpredictable – sometimes downright dangerous – exacerbated by the Wheel of Salad.

I have never seen the Wheel, but like Bohr’s famous model of the atom, it is the only theoretical template that makes sense. It involves an electric motor, a dartboard, a cat, and an advanced case of rabies. To simplify this model, go ahead and give the rabies to the cat. Mount the dartboard to the motor and turn it on high speed. The chef enters the Realm of the Wheel, carrying fifty darts. The chef takes careful aim. At the moment of his throw, toss the cat at his face. All fifty darts fly randomly, and five or six darts will hit the dartboard. Stop the Wheel. On the Wheel is marked many different ingredients, and the darts decide what today’s Salad will be.

Take a moment now, and savor Mother Nature’s elegant simplicity. I’ll wait.

Sometimes the Wheel pays off in spades. A prime example is the turkey and pear salad served at least once per cruise. This is an unlikely yet wonderful combination of chunked turkey and pears with a little brie and a balsamic vinaigrette. In the words of the Iron Chef, “That’s some good shit!” First in the why-didn’t-I-think-of-that
 category is a cold potato salad with sliced Italian sausage and celery. Hearty.

But the Wheel can be a bitch-goddess as well. You would think that artichokes in a salad would automatically make the salad a winner, but the Wheel defies all logic and tosses in some pasta of exactly the wrong consistency to ... what’s the opposite of “compliment?” ... Clash! There we go. Clash with the artichoke. Toss a few too many capers and not enough salmon in there, and you’ve got a horrible mess that offends the senses. I think this salad even hurt my pride, if that’s possible.

So I need to find a system to keep me safe from the abominations, yet allows me still to discover the wonders of the next turkey-and-pear sensation. The only thing I’ve got so far is to avoid any salad with raisins. Raisins are the chef’s pre-emptive apology for a particularly evil salad.

Suggestions are welcome.

Sep. 13th, 2009

Oooo!

What a nice day!

I have nothing interesting to say, and nothing to bitch about.  What a nice change of pace.  I'm sitting in a Starbuck's in Kusadasi getting free internet, sipping a chai latte, and sniffin' my new leather jacket purchased from a local leathery.  Life seldom gets better than this!  

Sep. 11th, 2009

Oooo!

Having A Timeless Time ...

 If I could save time in a bottle?  No problem!  Ship-time is already in a bottle.  Ship in a bottle ... okay, enough with the metaphors already.  We get it.

Since being on ship with Celebrity, the days of the week have lost meaning.  During my stint with Carnival, we had seven-day cruises, which meant that every Sunday, we were in Miami.  On this line, we have 10- 11- and 12-day cruises that rend the week to meaningless shreds.  Nobody ever speaks about "Tuesday" or "next week."  The days are renamed for the ports-of-call and number of days at sea.  The "weeks" become "cruises" having an arbitrary number of days depending on the itinerary.  Today for example is "First Istanbul" instead of (wait a second ... have to look it up) Saturday.

Holy crap, today is September 11?  I did not know that.

See what I mean?  So yeah.  Since we spend 2 days in Istanbul, we put a "first" and "second" in front of each to specify the day.  Hell, the only reason we know the day and the month is because paydays are on the 1st and 15th.  If it's not the 1st or 15th, it's "Kusadasi" or "2nd Sea Day."  There is no manual or corporate mandate that tells us to do it, it just happens, and you acclimate to it pretty quickly.

Add to that that half of the crew uses standard time and the other half of us use maritime/military time, and schedules get a little hairy 'round here.  Converting AM/PM to military time is easy enough, but twice a cruise we go back or forward an hour (Greek time forward, Italian time back) so I am fortunate to have been indoctrinated to the idea of daylight savings.

I'm also very glad that they use SAE clocks.  If the ship went to metric time, I'd have to quit.

Sep. 1st, 2009

Oooo!

More about Atlantis


Yeah. So I hate techno music now. I haven’t heard this much techno since ... well, since I lived with a gay girl. I have heard some good imaginative techno music in my lifetime, but all this house techno could be done by a monkey with an Apple IIe and it is turning me against all techno in general. But watching a bunch of scantily-clad gay men dance to it (some of whom, if I didn’t know better, are out of their minds on coke, ecstasy or ketamine) is absolutely priceless.

I also made a command decision and decided not to go into Egypt today. Being identified with this group of men (some of whom, if I didn’t know better, were STILL out of their minds on [insert substance here]) didn’t sound like a great idea in a country where you can be arrested for being gay. Listening in on a few conversations, the consensus seemed to be for the most part was that the Egyptians would just have to deal with it. 

Now, while this is a brave attitude (and applause to those who chose this adventurous cause to change hearts and minds), my attitude would probably have gone along the lines of “Suck it up and pretend I’m your cousin for a day.” If it was the deep South in the US where I lived, I would be more predisposed to martyrdom. But Crimony, this is your vacation, and this isn’t Kansas, friend of Dorothy!

I am enjoying the relaxed dress code we have for this cruise. It’s nice dressing down for a week.

Oooo!

A Note About My Journal.

Every once in awhile, you'll see an entry here that may seem incomplete.  This is because I was called away to do something on ship, and can't leave my internet connection open.  'Spensive!  So instead of finishing a brilliant thought I've had, I am forced to chop off a spring bud that was otherwise destined to blossom into literary greatness ... a tragic murder of wisdom lost to the memoriless eddies of brutal ship life.

In short, if you see a post that sucks, blame Celebrity for your loss -- not me -- I was invariably just about to write something very deep and meaningful that would have changed your life.
Oooo!

(no subject)


Atlantis Cruise, late August – early September 2009

This cruise is a bunch of fun, but good God! It is the second full day and I am ready for a break. I have pulled almost 45 hours in the past three days alone. It would have been more, but even Maritime has labor laws. 

The first day was the day before the cruise. Atlantis learned that even though this ship has more manpower and room in which to work, the size of the ship actually works against them on embarkation day. No matter what the size of the ship, shore side customs is the same size; therefore, the more crap that has to go through that bottleneck (not just Atlantis equipment, but all passenger luggage, food, etc), the slower the process goes. So they shipped everything to Naples to be loaded a day before the passengers embarked in Rome.  For you techies out there, we took on 20 VL-3000's, a couple of GrandMA's, a myriad of moving LED fixtures, a stack of subs and speakers that would fill a homeless shelter, amp racks, power distros and a step-down transformer the size of a SmartCar. 

We have many many guest performers this cruise. Comedians, singers, actors ... some of them are pretty good. A couple of the comedians are relying too much on the fact that they are gay and too often fall back on butt sex jokes for shock value. It doesn’t work with this crowd. A good fifth of our passengers this cruise show up to dinner in ass-less chaps , so by the third hour it takes a bit more than a joke about fisting to be shocking.

The pool parties ... wowzers and sweet, creamy Buddha! The pool parties are incredible. We’re using a pair of Glaciator fog machines to fog the deck – machines normally used to fog arenas and stadiums. Our smoke is rivalling that of the smokestacks from the ship. Sorry, not “smokestacks.” I meant to say “environmentally-friendly main exhaust vents.” Or is it “Happy Ports?” Politically correct or not, at least the pixie dust coming from the Glaciators is non-toxic with no CO2.

Speaking of atmosphere ... and of segues ... the overall mood aboard is far more relaxed than our usual cruise. Celebrity Cruises normally attracts a more formal clientele with ties and gowns – not my normal MO. This cruise, we are allowed to be a little more informal in guest areas. And there are no children aboard, which is a huge improvement. I’m okay with kids, but 12 or 13 days is too long for a kid to be cooped up on a boat. A little advice: if you want to take your kids on a cruise, make it a 5 or 6 day cruise.

I am washing my hands every chance I get – even more than usual – and I am avoiding the public restrooms. Before you get all uppity and scream discrimination, it isn’t because our passengers are gay. It’s because Atlantis targets a more promiscuous demographic of gay men than other gay-friendly cruises. With that amount of touching, cold-and-flu spreads much more quickly than on a normal cruise, which is fast enough. 

However, I do have the advantage of being American this cruise.  Even though I have a higher risk of catching cold this cruise, most of our guests this cruise are also American (as opposed to other cruises where most of our clientele is European). My body is more adapted to American strains of flu, so most likely if I catch a cold it won’t be as bad as crew from other nationalities.

So far, that’s Atlantis. I am having a blast, but (like a kid on a cruise) I’ll be happy to see it go. The overtime is nice, but I need my sleep.

Aug. 24th, 2009

Oooo!

Blue.

Hoolavoo: (noun) a superintelligent shade of blue. (From "Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams)

I thought that the water in the Caribbean couldn't be matched in it's beauty, but I was wrong.  Med water is equally beautiful.  Different though.

Caribbean water is a crystal blue in which nothing is held.  This blue remembers nothing and looks forward only to the thing in front of it at that moment, and the joy in being friends with that thing.  It is a blue that one doesn't fall into, but that one loses himself without notice.

Meditteranean blue is much deeper.  It is a blue that one fears to offend.  Fear that comes not from promise of reprisal, but from the instinctual respect all creatures have for the truly beautiful.  The royal color holds deep memories.  It remembers everyone.  It remembers everything.  It remembers you -- even on meeting it for the first time.  It remembers what you will be in the future.  This blue gives you the unspoken yet universal understanding that it will never punish -- or forgive -- only remember.
Oooo!

(no subject)

I [heart] port vendors!

Shopping in port is a bunch of fun.  Not only do you get to look at shiny things, but you get to haggle as well.  Haggling is great, and (depending on where you are in the world) it's a bunch of fun too.  It seems to be a lost art in the States.  We are so used to going into a retail store and taking the price tag as law without question.  If the price is too high, we just leave -- and nobody tries to stop us!

Vendors in Turkey and in the Caribbean are spunky critters.  They've got moxie.  They'll try to sell you a $2 map and with a straight face ask for $50.  You haggle with them and get them down to $3 and you part company happy.  Some people from the US will pay the $50.  Hell, that must be the price -- it's the law, right?

*Not safe for work post starts here*

Now, here's the thing:  You'd think that paying the $50 would make them happy, but it doesn't.  Not that they don't want the $50, but these guys have absolutely no respect for people who cave to the asking price.  If you don't haggle, you've taken the game from them.  If you put your quarter into the video game and the only thing you get to do is put your initials in for the high score, what fun is that?  If you give them the asking price, they happily take it from you, but you leave the transaction with the vague feeling that the vendor hates you for being taken so easily.  The vendors love a good haggle.

A lot of these vendors treat the sale like they're looking for a blowjob. Which blowjob would *you* enjoy more?  The one you get after plying her with a nice date, small talk and liquor?  Or the one you get before you have a chance to get her phone number?

There is a scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian that portrays this exact sentiment, and the vendor's attitude, while very funny and exaggerated, is also not too far off the mark.

Paying the asking price might help the local economy, but if you don't haggle, you're asking the vendor to pay too much in his psychic well-being.

Aug. 21st, 2009

Oooo!

Atlantis Med Cruise 2009!

I am excited! I didn't know that the Solstice would be hosting the Atlantis Med Cruise, but apparently I lucked out.

For those who don't know, Atlantis Cruise is an all-gay event that is wise enough to rent entire cruise ships for their excursions. They bring a lot of their own entertainment, plus use some of ours. I'm not here to gush about Atlantis or to advertise for them -- but I do have something to say about the subject.

I have worked one all-gay cruise on Carnival, and another cruise where a gay group came aboard. As for any group that rents cruise ships, gay people are the most fun. There's no complaining and everyone is there for a good time. Did I say a good time? I meant fabulous time. The only problems come when gay groups come aboard.   Or any groups for that matter.  The problem with having an entire group come aboard along with passengers who are NOT part of the group is that the group members feel a sense of extra entitlement while the non-members feel ignored.

And the worst offenders are not the gay groups.  The worst of the groups are religious. 

Many times, religeous groups think that since they have rented a block of cabins, that we should make the entire ship non-offensive to their religeous views.  Smoking, drinking, carousing ... these offend religious groups.  For that matter, gay groups offend religeous groups -- I don't ever want to be on that cruise!  We will cater to the groups religious views if -- like Atlantis has -- rented the whole ship.

Aug. 7th, 2009

Oooo!

Greetings from Rome ...

Well I made it here in one piece.  I am quickly remembering why so few online journals are kept by cruise line employees:  a)  there is so little time for most crew members, and b) internet time is expensive on ship.

Like now for instance -- I had a whole bunch of really cool things in my head to post, but now all I can think of is "8 cents per minute ... 8 cents per minute ... 8 cents per minute ..." and the fact that I saw my first euro today.  I had never seen a euro.  They're very pretty coins, and they are bloody expensive.

Speaking of bloody expensive, I've decided to buy a netbook so I can type at my leasure offline, and then cut-and-paste all my emails and incredibly interesting LJ posts from there.

Blech ... this post isn't turning out so great. 

Money sucks.

Jul. 29th, 2009

Oooo!

Packing For the Flight ...

"This a 'how-to' post.  These are pearls of wisdom for those who may choose to follow."  

That's what I keep telling myself as I stare at the blank screen, but to be honest, I'm posting to keep my brain from screaming out of control.  I have packed all my stuff, confirmed my flights (twice), and with less than twenty-four hours, I just know I've forgotten something.  So read it as sage advice from a learned traveler, but know that it is actually coming from a very nervous person who is writing what amounts to a mental checklist.

That said:  HOW TO PREPARE FOR AN OVERSEAS FLIGHT WHEN TRAVELING LONG-TERM )

Okay, I feel better now.  Now I can feel free to focus on important subjects.  I wonder if I left the oven on ...?

Jul. 24th, 2009

Oooo!

TORPEDO IN THE WATER! DIVE! DIVE!

 I'm sorry folks, but ...



That just looks like a super fun day!
No, she's not sinking.  This is what 50 ft swells look like.

Jul. 23rd, 2009

Oooo!

New Journal Started ...

I have a movie review journal goin' on.  If you're interested, it's called "[info]flixtails Ruthless Reviews of Cinematic Oddities."  Check me out, Baby!
Oooo!

Ah, the Travel ... The Sea Air ... The Fragrent Bureaucracy ...

For anyone considering a career at sea, I have two things to say:  a)  Don't take my job, or I will bury you!  and b)  prepare to jump through some hoops.  Flaming, sixty-feet-off-the-ground hoops suspended over a cage of bears who have iron spikes for fur.  And the bears have guns.  Guns that shoot poison ... um ... poison sharks.  

I had forgotten how much red tape is involved in getting aboard ship, especially for a first contract with a new company.  Sherman, set the Wayback Machine for September '08.  I received an email inviting me to an interview with Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines.  I postponed the interview for December, having previous obligations to fulfill.  This interview was conducted over Skype with video, so I had to abandon my usual practice of wondering through the house naked and dig out a suit and tie that chokes wear what I usually wear.   The interviewer grilled me about my knowledge of lighting equipment and the demands of a life away from home.  He also asked the same questions I had heard in every interview since I was 16 years old:

What qualities will you bring to our company?  Where do you see yourself in five years?  What is your greatest weakness?

There comes an age when a person has developed pat answers to these questions and they become useless.  And not just a little humiliating.  The answers, by the way, are "Dedication and a passion for [insert job field here]."  "Advancing in your company if our interests benefit each other." and my favorite, "I can be a little too detail oriented at times, losing sight of the big picture."  

Sorry, I got a little distracted there.  So the interview went very well and he informed me that I could look forward to a ship assignment as early as February.  This is a lie, my brothers and sisters, just another lie of the white man.  Most crew and staff I have talked to have experienced the same thing:  Depend on at least four months of doing backflips.  I was told that a "final interview" needed to be conducted with a sister company, Celebrity Cruises.  So I waited.

And waited.  

For those interested in this line of work, expect to use the phrase "just as I was about to give up" many times.  February rolled around and just as I was about to give up, I received a telephone call from Celebrity for my pop final interview.  It took place not ten seconds after a funeral for a co-worker, and I wasn't in the best of spirits.  After waiting this long, I wasn't about to postpone.  If this seems cold to you, then you didn't know the legendary stagehand Johnny Doyle who would have throttled me from his coffin for postponing.  Interview went well again, and I was now looking at June.  

Enter the physical exam.  I had not been looking forward to this.  This is not your run-of-the-mill check-your-pulse quiz, this is a medical mid-term of X-rays, a finger in the butt, and enough blood drawn from you to qualify for the gallon doner club.  Drug test.  Hearing exam.  Eye exam.  If you have a family doctor, fax a copy of the exam form to him before scheduling an appointment, stressing that this is not a normal employment physical.  Otherwise, use the physician that the cruise line recommends.

In the meantime, I was put into "The Gap Pool."  Alarm bells, mates!  The Pool is not a death sentance, but it is seriously stressful. While waiting in The Pool, you will hear nothing.  Many people in The Pool equate this to "We'll keep your resume on file."  Perservere!  If they didn't want you, you would have been told.  The cruise lines don't muck about with niceties if they don't like you.  If you are in The Pool, you will be given a contact, usually an assistant whose sole job is to contact people.  Email him, but not too often.  Once a month is about right.  But yeah, being in the Gap Pool sucks balls.  I was there for almost 7 months.

I was finally called yesterday with an assignment for mid-August.  This was immediately updated to July 30th after they found out I had all my medical completed.  So rush rush rush ... the criminal background check.  Wha?!?  I gotta do this myself?  I had to go to a website and give my information.  It was easy, but again, a bit humiliating.  "Dear Sir:  Please write a note to my employer saying that I'm not a child molester.  Yours Truly, me."  Maybe the 1984 people are right -- there is such a thing as too much information.

These are the major hurdles to cross, but I didn't mention the minor glitches along the way, nor does it even begin to cover the stress I felt over these last two months.  I am just glad that part is over.  Anyway, all that is behind me now, and I'm flying to Italy on the 30th to join the Solstice crew.

I'll be back later to tell you about the Italians and the Greeks and the Turks and how they can improve their way of life to be more like Americans.  With any luck, I might be able to spread a little bit more of that sweet democracy love to those poor backward people.

Jul. 22nd, 2009

Oooo!

New assignment!

I'm back folks.  After almost a year back on land, I finally have a solid date to be back at sea with my new company.  I am very excited!

The new assignment is the Celebrity "Solstice."  She is currently in the Med, so now I have to fly aaaaaall the way to Europe to catch her.  
She has been at sea for less than a year, inaugural date 23 November 2008.  At 122,000 tons and 1,033 ft long, she's a big boat with a guest capacity of 2,850 and a crew of around 1,300.  The current itinerary is Europe until November when she sails back to the Caribbean for the winter months.  She sails the Eastern Med route with ports in Italy, Greece and Turkey.  In November we go trans-Atlantic with stops in Italy, France, Spain, Portugal and Florida.  The winter months will sail the Western Caribbean run through the Caymans, Mexico, and Honduras as well as some eastern Caribbean runs through Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, St Thomas, Haiti, Tortola, and St. Kitts.  

I noticed in the weeks preceding my departure from Carnival that Jamaica is getting fewer and fewer cruise ships.  I don't blame them -- the place has turned into a hole.  The crew mostly stayed onboard ship when we docked in Ocho Rios, taking advantage of the calm port waters to do ladder work.  Nobody seemed to mind missing Jamaica.  If you tried that in St Thomas or Cozumel?  Mutiny!

More when I get settled in.

Dec. 21st, 2008

Oooo!

Jumping Cruise Lines ...

What a dizzy couple of months it has been!  I am changing cruise lines from Carnival to Royal Caribbean.  I have my final interview tomorrow and then out to sea, pending my medical exam.

I know it's not coming out until Summer '09, but ... c'mooooon Oasis Of The Seas!

Jul. 8th, 2008

Oooo!

Animals Aboard.

Today is rockin' and rollin' on the sea.  So much so, we had to skip Half Moon Cay.  Of course, Carnival doesn't term it like that; we say, "We've added an extra Fun Day At Sea!"  The tourists are pissed.

I've noticed a few changes in my attitude toward certain things while onboard such as driving.  I am scared shitless at the prospect of driving a car now.  While in Jamaica I hired a taxi to take me around, and it was the most frightening experience I have ever had on a road.  He had (I ain't joking) a PS2 video game controller in the passenger seat.  He handed it to me and told me to pretend I was playing "Road Rage."

Another big difference is my attitude toward animals.  On my first week here, we had a cheetah on board for the magic show.  She was an ornary cuss who liked to snap at her owner, so the ship said she had to leave.  Once during that week, she got loose.  The senior tech informed me very glibly, "The cat got out," and continued his sound check.

Now, I love cats.  Kitties are cute.  I love to cuddle and pet them.  However, in this case if I was informing someone that a cheetah was roaming free on the ship, I would have chosen a different phraseology than "The cat got out."  My choice would have been something like, oh I don't know ... grabbing a bull horn and saying, "LOCK YOUR DOORS THERE'S A MAN-FUCKING-EATING CHEETAH LOOSE ON THE SHIP!"  But that's just me.

So now the magic show sports a beautiful 12 foot python.  Her name is Lumpy, and she's the only non-human onboard.  Everyone loves her except the people who are deathly afraid that they will become Lumpy's next lump.

It's so strange to have so few non-humans around me.  I'm used to cats, dogs, bugs, gerbils, turtles, Republicans (Take THAT!) ... you name it.  But when I'm in port, bugs freak the shit out of me.  Flies buzzing around my head used to annoy me, but now I react as if something is trying to kill me.

These oddities are offset by my new attitude toward being rocked all over the place by the ground.  The ship is like a roller coaster being shaken by an earthquake at times (like today).  It's very hard to stay awake when you're being rocked to sleep by Mama Triumph 24 hours a day.  We learn very quickly not to lay down unless we intend to go to sleep.

As a little side-note, I saw a pubic service message from an organization last night that made me pee myself.  You can visit them at (not kidding) http://www.dontshakeababy.com .

Jun. 24th, 2008

Oooo!

You Are Remembered.

George Carlin died.  I heard it while weathering a minor storm an hour ago.

As stupid as it might sound, he was an influence in my life -- not as much as a parent or family member, more like ... I guess like the Beatles.  Whenever one of them dies it's like a part of your youth dies with them.

I know this is not ship life per-se, but this hit me pretty hard.  When Depp dies, expect another angst-filled post.

I dance upon your grave, Mr. Carlin.  I know you will get the joke.

Jun. 22nd, 2008

Oooo!

Back To Miami ...

Back to Miami ... sweet and sour-as-fuck Miami.

My sweet loving baby Jesus, what an awful place.  Acrid air, foul moods, and water that God wouldn't claim as his own.  The passengers look at this port with anticipation.  After only 7 days at sea, they look at this filthy disgusting city with -- may I push this point a bit -- LOOK FORWARD with ANTI-CI-FUCKING-PA-TION.  

Have you lost your minds?!?  You have blue skies and azure seas in the Carribean!  You have an up-ended hotel that provides you everything you could ever need!

(But secretley, I would give anything for a Big Mac right now.)

Home is Home I guess.

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