Product Review: KOHLER’s Touchless Toilet Flush Kit

28 Jul

With two little boys running around the house, germs are a constant factor we are combating.  Currently both boys have a virus and are running fevers of 100+ with sore throats…so this seemed like a good week to install a KOHLER Touchless “No Touch Flush” system and see how it worked. Kohler-Touchless-Toilet-Flush-Kit img_8817_draftMax (3) is potty trained and has transitioned into underwear, only wearing a pull-up at night in case of accidents while Dodge (1) hides behind the door and grunts out his business into a diaper.  One of the things I worked on with Max that I LOVE was teaching him to go on a full-sized toilet…which means when we go out to eat or travel, he can do his duty anywhere without me holding him over the seat.  All was well and fine til one night at our regular Sunday night dinner spot.  The bathroom had very nice toilets with the forward facing sensor as you see in most restaurants and airports.  You sit, you do your thing, you stand, and it flushes for you.  Unless, of course, you are a squirmy little 3-year-old.  Then it flushes while you are still sitting on it.  This toilet was also flushed with great vigor and the sound echoed throughout the high-ceiling bathroom scaring the sh*t out of Max…literally.  Since that moment, Max has been afraid of toilets and potty training has taken a step backwards.  Much of that is due to an error on my part, and it went like this:

Max:  “Why did you flush it Dada?

Me:  “I didn’t.  It did on its own”

Max:  “Why?”

Me:  “Because it has an eye, and it thought you were done.”

Max:  “It has an eye…like a robot?”

Me:  “Yeah, like a robot.”

Max:  “…and it was watching me.”

Me:  “Yup, to make sure you pooped.”

Max:  “I’m afraid of robots.”

Me:  “Oh…well…um…its not really a robot…er…its…”

Max:  “Is it watching us now?”

Kohler_Touchless_toilet_conversion_kitOops.  Smooth move Ex-Lax!  Now my kid is deathly afraid of toilets and bawls every time we go into the bathroom.  Incidentally, he hold his hands over his ears whenever we go to a bathroom (public or private) in fear of the loud sound, which means his dirty hands are touching his face and he can’t sit on the toilet without me supporting him.  He is scared to death of “THE EYE!”  Like Lord Saruman is constantly watching him as he treks through Middle Earth with the one true ring.  With that in mind…I thought the KOHLER Flushless System could be a great way for him to learn that not all toilets are loud and he can get back to going all by himself.

Kohler TouchlessThe install took about 10 minutes and is very self-explanatory.  The hard part is getting the right height because if the sensor is touching the lid it will flush every time you flip the seat up, bump the top, etc.  If it is too low it either won’t flush or you have to touch the lid of the tank to flush.  I didn’t need any extra tools, everything clipped into place, and once tweaking things a little bit my toilet was magically flushing by waving my hand over the top of the tank instead of reaching over to the handle.  Fun.  Kate and I keep reaching to the side for the handle and then remembering the sensor is on top and there is no need for the handle (which I chose to leave on for guests).  One of the things I love is that we had one of those old toilets where you had to hold the handle down for a good flush.  The KOHLER Touchless eradicates the need to do this because the kit automatically holds the flush for a set period of time.

Max Kohler ToiuchlessThe real story though, is Max.  Max thinks the Touchless Sensor is the coolest thing since sliced bread.  The old handle was too hard for him to flush and this one is a piece of cake.  He liked it so much we had to have a talk about how it isn’t a toy since he was flushing it over and over and over again.  I like that he can get up on the toilet and do his thing, then flush the toilet without touching the handle and spreading…whatever he has touched to the rest of us.  We also picked up a KOHLER Transitions seat which has a seat for the little guys as well a seat for the adults which is going to be a blessing when Dodge is ready to stop hiding behind the door and grunting.  Max is pretty excited about it too.  The seat fits our downstairs toilet while the sensor was installed upstairs and Max has asked if I am going to put one on the downstairs toilet as well…and I think I may have to.  Maybe a touch-less faucet too?

Here is the breakdown of PROS vs. CONS:

PROS

  • Easy to install
  • No more touching the toilet
  • Less germs/cleaner
  • Can leave handle on for guests
  • East to use
  • Kids can use it easily
  • Makes potty training fun for kids

CONS

  • Can accidentally flush when lid is bumped
  • Can’t place anything on top of lid
  • Can be confusing for guests
  • Can’t set length of flush hold

20140728_092248The pros greatly outweigh the cons and honestly, the only part that I don’t like is that we can’t place anything on the lid of the tank anymore since that is where the sensor is.  Also, I had to make a little riser to get the sensor just right for my old janky toilet.  Not being able to put things on the tank lid is why we chose the upstairs bathroom over the downstairs.  In the downstairs bathroom the tank lid is home to a vase of flowers, 2 picture frames, and a box of Klenex since it is the only surface in the small powder room.  If we installed the sensor, the Klenex would have to go.  I like that the kit holds a timed flush but it would be great if there was a way to set it for short, medium or long depending on your toilet…or a way to do a long flush if you held you hand over the sensor for a long period of time.  This would allow you to do short flushes for water conservation when flushing #1 and having a little more force for #2.  I also think future models should look at the idea of a remote sensor so you can put it wherever you want instead of only on top directly over your canister or flapper, you could even install the sensor in the old handle hole.

In conclusion, I think this is a low-cost and effective way to reduce the spreading of germs on any toilet and I would definitely recommend it to anyone with little kids that like to touch everything…which is every little kid.  It has helped Max start to get over his fear of auto-flush public toilets, made going to the potty easier since it is now fun, and made me feel better knowing that I’m not touching a ton of germs on the toilet handle.  I think it would be great in houses without small children as well, as a sophisticated option for guests to show you care about sanitation.  I am also recommending my office buy them as it is a great option for small businesses or restaurants.  For me, I like going to a restaurant and having the toilet, sink, and hand drying all be touch-less.  It shows the restaurant cares about sanitation and is a direct reflection of how clean the kitchen is.  The KOHLER Touchless Kit is the same concept but in your home.  Great for kids, great for parents, great for adults, easy to install/use, and an affordable upgrade.  I give it 2 thumbs up and Max jumps for joy! 20140728_100257

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Backyard Pear Tree

27 Jul

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Harvesting pears from the tree in our back yard today and thinking of my grandmother Dawn, maybe I’ll make some jam to bring with me to NY next week in memory of her.

Goodnight Grandma

25 Jul

DawnGates1My paternal grandmother, Dawn Kathleen Preston, was born on June 24, 1924 in Castelton, Vermont to parents Elmer F. Preston and Kathleen E. Towers.  At age 6 she moved to Albany, NY and by 1940 she was living in Bolton Landing, NY spending a majority of her time with her cousins Pauline and Robert.  On April 23, 1944 she married my grandfather, William Beckers Gates, near her home in Castleton, Vermont at the age of 19.  The two of them went on to do what I strive to do every day…become good parents and make each other happy.  Bill went to the Navy and returned home as a hero for saving his shipmates.  He and Dawn purchased a trolly car diner and opened The Bill Gates Diner in Bolton Landing, NY…my home sweet home.  They had three lovely children:  William, Walter and Jeanine between the years of 1945 and 1954 and the five of them all worked to feed the town of Bolton every day.  Walter, or “Buddy” as everyone called him, is my dad and thus I’m here writing this today.

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Everyone will have their own memories of people and things that stand out for them.  As the youngest of the family I will always remember the cookies, the pancakes, and all the sweet smells that came from the kitchen when I visited.  I remember the smell of the house, the cool damp basement where my grandfather taught me how to fix things, the hand-knitted blankets my grandma made throughout the house, the doilies and lace everywhere, Grandma’s bell collection, Grandpa’s cologne, M&M’s in that little glass container on the coffee table with the cube picture frame next to it, the powder blue toilet with a cushioned seat in the bathroom, the smell of rotting leaves as I cleaned the gutters, the putter of the 1949 Willy’s Jeep, my socks stained pink from picking strawberries with Grandma all morning, her paintings…everywhere…so many paintings, and then the blue chair near the entrance to the dining room where my grandfather passed away on February 24, 1989.  I was 9…and I didn’t understand what death really meant.

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Grandpa and I had restored a canoe the summer of 1988 and by the time the fire-engine-red paint dried in the fall, cancer had whittled him down to skin stretched over bones.  When he passed away I knew if I closed my eyes long enough, prayed hard enough, and pictured him clear enough in my mind…he’d be sitting next to me when I opened my eyes to wrap me up in one of those big hugs of his.  However, he was never there when I opened my eyes, he never gave me another hug, and we never got to say goodbye.  When I read a piece I had written called “My Grandpa and Me” at his ceremony I couldn’t hold the tears back.  It felt like my insides were being torn out and the world was never going to be the same again.  How could it?  Then, I looked up from my tear-covered sheet of paper and locked eyes with Grandma Dawn…and she was smiling.  She wrapped me up in that hug I was so desperately waiting for and the emotions came spilling out of me all at once.  I realized he was never coming back.  She told me she was proud of me and that she loved me very much, then she showered me with kisses before I sat back down…and then the thought hit me, “What about Grandma?”

Sterett-book-cover-jpegFor weeks after the ceremony I would lay awake at night wondering what my grandma was thinking?  She slept next to him every night…and now he was gone.  How do you recover from something like that?  Every summer since, I spent as much time at her house as possible, stayed with her for extended periods of time, and developed one of the deepest friendships with a family member I have ever had.  We kept no secrets from each other, we played the games I wanted to play, then I watched the TV shows she wanted to watch and we napped.  Every day, Grandma drank a beer (sometimes two) then took a nap after Wheel of Fortune.  When she lost the appetite for alcohol she switched to NA beer and the ritual continued.  She taught me how to paint, sew, crochet, and other skills I am so happy to know.  She taught me how to bake, especially her famous pancakes from the diner!  We were thick as thieves, Grandma and me…til one day this guy named Bus kept showing up.

Bus asked Grandma to marry him and she said no.  So, he asked again.  She said no.  He asked again, and she said yes.  By this time I was a young teenager and fully capable of trying to sabotage Bus’s relationship with Dawn and I gave it a darn good shot.  Bus cornered me one day, grabbed hold of my shirt, and told me as we stood nose to nose, “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”  It made me like him even less.  He seemed bossy and I didn’t like that Grandma was baking for him now instead of me.  Then one night he had a few too many Manhattans and told me the story of how he’d fallen in love with her back in the 1940′s but she was waiting for Bill.  Bus got married but never lost track of what Dawn was up to.  When Bus’s wife passed away he needed a friend and so did Grandma.  They found each other.  Through decades of life, they found each other, and he made Grandma was happy.

With her boys Bud (left) and Bill (right)

With her boys Bud (left) and Bill (right)

I never stopped calling her, and even today I sometimes find my fingers dialing her home number when I pick up the phone.  Bus and I came to understand each other as soon as we both figured out we wanted the same thing, to see Dawn happy.  I never missed an opportunity to stop by, always called every week, and introduced her to every girlfriend to see if I got approval.  We were thick as thieves again and I went to college only 4 hours away which meant I often got to see her on the weekends and always on holidays.  When Bus passed away…it took a hard toll on her.  One of the last things Bus told me was that her memory wasn’t so good.  I remember replying, “Well…she’s old Bus.”  He shook his head and said, “I’m old too…this is different, sometimes she forgets things…big things.”  I wasn’t sure what he meant.

DawnGates2It started with her cooking.  She’d forget crucial ingredients that would leave food inedible.  Recipes that only existed in her head disappeared forever.  Cookies became dry, cakes became bricks, and sometimes cereal was served with orange juice poured over the top instead of milk.  Then it was people.  She’d recognize a face but couldn’t put a name to it.  Then, once the daily routine of the house was gone…she drifted off somewhere far away.  She moved into a nursing home and the memory loss was astounding…it happened so fast!  She’d remember me and be telling me a story…then stop, look at me with confusion, and get shy.  I could see her forget who I was.  Alzheimer’s?  Dimentia?  All of the above?  Who knows.  All I know is my grandma’s brain was sick but her body was perfectly healthy.  I think the last straw was when her daughter (my aunt) Jeanine passed away in 2007 at the age of 52.  Lung cancer.  That was my last cigarette and the the beginning of Dawn’s retreat to someplace far away in her mind where she only remembered things from long ago, and music…she remembered all the music and would sing songs with Bud and Bill.

Slightly confused but happy she attended my wedding.  She sat right in front and I could feel her gaze on me throughout the ceremony.  Sometimes she seemed to know what was going on, other times she seemed completely flabbergasted by where she was, and other times she simply seemed content to have a change of scenery.  It was the last time she left the nursing home and the last time she looked like the grandma I had shared so many beers with over the years.

Grandma Dawn (left) & Aunt Barbara (right)

Grandma Dawn (left) & Aunt Barbara (right)

Last summer I visited her with my family at the nursing home.  I walked right past her…I didn’t even recognize her she was so gaunt.  The nurse woke her up slowly, she was sleeping in her chair, and physically moved her head towards me so her eyes were lined up with mine.  Nothing.  Blank.  I wanted to cry but knew that was a terrible thing to do in a nursing home so I just said, “Hi Grandma!”  Her eyes focused on me and studied my face.  Then, like a bolt of lightning, she shot up and smiled and gave an expression on her face that can only be described as “I KNOW YOU!”  Cookies, cakes, and pancakes all over again!  I introduced her to my son Max who was 2 at the time and my son Dodge who was only 3 months old.  Her expression was that of, “Yes, yes, yes…I see the babies…I know you!  I know you!  I know you!”  So I held her hand, looked straight into her eyes, and told her about what was happening in my life as if we were drinking beer on her couch back in the 90′s.  I combed her hair, I stroked her beautiful face, and I showered her with kisses like she had for me the day Grandpa died.  I wrapped her up in a hug and told her I would see her again soon.  Then I went outside and broke down in the parking lot.

That was the last time I saw her.

She passed away this Wednesday at the age of 90.

I’d be lying if I said I felt like I was a good grandson in the end.  I did not visit her this summer, intentionally.  Selfishly, I was scared and didn’t know if I could handle seeing her again after last summer’s experience.  Last summer’s experience was so hard and so rewarding that it seemed like the best note to end on.  Now, I don’t know.  My dad saw her just before she passed and she recognized him.  I can’t stop thinking that I should have gone a few weeks ago when I was there, and I’ll have to live with that decision for the rest of my life.  However, I have so many memories to to hold her in my heart and last summer is the punctuation on my life with her.

Great Uncle Bob, Grandma Dawn, Aunt Jeanine, Uncle Bill, Great Grandpa Preston in front of the diner

Great Uncle Bob, Grandma Dawn, Aunt Jeanine, Uncle Bill, Great Grandpa Preston in front of the diner after it closed.

Last night I sat in the back yard, stared up at the sky, and picked out a star to talk to and said my goodbyes.  I didn’t scrunch up my eyes and hope she would appear next to me, I prayed she was released from the confines of her body and was somewhere with lots of beer, Wheel of Fortune reruns, Grandpa, Bus, and a kitchen stocked with everything she needed to make pancakes for the universe.  She was my last grandparent.  She was a living connection to that time period.  It is a chapter closed…but never forgotten.  In the end I think we all wish for that one last goodbye, that last memory, that last morsel of cake…but why cry over crumbs when you got to enjoy the prime cut?  It is so cliche but enjoy every moment of life with those you love, NOT because it could be the last…because it is what you’ll remember when its over.  If your grandma or grandpa is still alive, give them a call.  Stop by.  Give them a hug.  Tell them you love them, even if they don’t remember who you are.  It doesn’t matter…everyone likes to hear “I love you.”  Finally, if you knew Dawn…please think of her and maybe her spirit will touch your dreams or add a dash of love to your next batch of cookies.  I thought of her last night as I spoke to that star and suddenly the sky was filled with hummingbirds!  20-30 of them swarmed my mimosa tree in search of something sweet.  Then a deep Kansas wind rolled through and off they went as the ash tree bended and swayed through the gust.  Then everything was calm.  Not a sound in the night air.

Good night Grandma.  I love you.  I miss you.

Tell Grandpa (and Bus) I said, “Hi.”

Bill Gates Diner

Forgotten Birthday Prank

23 Jul

It is well-known that I am the prankster around the office…and beware the person that invokes my pranks.  However, it is I that got pranked this week with an amazingly executed classic:  The Forgotten Birthday.

EeyoreBalloonFor my boss Chris’s birthday I rigged his office chair with an airhorn.  My co-worker Karen we threw a fake party complete with streamers and crumbs since she took the day off.  Linda had her office so decked out with party favors she couldn’t get in the door.  For me…nothing.  Huh?  As a kid I dreaded my birthday because it was in July so I never got to have the cake party at school…I was part of that summer group where we all celebrated with one cake on a day near the end of school.  Sucked.  One summer I had a pool party with a handful of friends who were in town and it has remained in my memory since as epic!  As an adult, I have been out of town for my birthday almost every year, so I rarely partake in the office celebration of cake and ice cream around the conference table.  Til this year.

This year I was in town and Linda pulled me aside and said, “Ryan, you said if you were ever in town for your birthday you wanted one of those cookie cakes…is that still true?”  She remembered!  My heart swelled!  It was what all the cool kids with school-time birthdays got when we were kids and I always wanted one!  I nodded yes to Linda and the excitement grew, and grew, and grew til it was the Friday before my birthday.  Party time for sure!  Nothing.  No cookie cake.  No “Happy Birthday.”  Just, “Have a good weekend.”  So…I did.

My wife Kate and I played golf together on Saturday (my birthday) and she played fantastically.  It was extremely relaxing!  A new set of clubs had been the gift from my folks earlier in the year so it seemed fitting that they be used on the actual day…and I shot well.  Kate’s parents had got me a grill for Father’s Day / Birthday so after golf we grilled up chicken breasts, hot dogs for the kids, and corn on the cobb.  That night I got to rent a stupid action flick OnDemand and all seemed awesome.

Sunday I realized I got text messages from my mom, dad, and sister on my birthday…but no phone call.  I knew my sister was dead in the middle of a theater production and my folks were hosting guests so it made sense.  By the time Monday rolled around I was sure the office was going to throw me a party with cookie cake, my dad would call in to sing, and it would be fun.  Nope.  Nothing.  No one even asked me how my birthday went.  Down trodden and significantly older, I resigned to the fact that my office had forgotten about my birthday and my family wasn’t going to call.  I worked late, turned off the lights, and went home to cry in my beer.

Then, Tuesday I walked in the front door to this:

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Yup…the ole Forgotten Birthday Prank.  The office folks NAILED IT!  They got me with the party favors over the door, the confetti everywhere, and I checked under the chair…yup…a valiant attempt at the airhorn under the chair.  I removed the airhorn before sitting and made sure to set it off next to Debbie, Karen and Dee’s office to make sure they were awake (better than coffee) since now I had to vacuum up my desk.  Later in the day my childish wish came true and the office assembled to eat cookie cake with me…which incidentally dyed everyone’s teeth dark blue thanks to the food coloring in the frosting…just like in middle school.

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They had lovely cards for me in which they poked fun as if they had forgotten my birthday and I got a 24 oz box of peanut butter M&M’s wrapped in three layers of wrapping paper to keep me busy while they all laughed at me.  They…got…me…good.  So ole Eeyore brightened up and had a good time at the party…and ate his cake too…cookie cake.

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Stupid Anxiety

21 Jul

RockCentralWichitaA little over two years ago I had an anxiety attack at the intersection of Rock Road and Central in Wichita, KS as I pulled into the left turning lane on my way to work.  I’d experienced this feeling before in life but only for short confusing intervals.  This one was different…it didn’t go away.  In fact, it got more intense.  My fight or flight kicked in and I flew.  The days following were torturous as I could not leave my bed, the weeks following I improved to only being able to not leave my house, then I got to the point where I could painfully kind of go places, then I got pretty functional, and then…my CBT therapist’s office screwed up my bill and I said to heck with them and embarked on a year of self exploration to mentally toughen up and get back to “normal.”

If you want the full story you can go HERE.

Fast forward 2 years with leaps and bounds of progress and things are pretty darn good.  I still had anxiety but my ability to dissect it, analyze it, cope with it and move forward with my life was astounding.  Then I started asking myself if I should explore going off anti-anxiety medications and that opened up my internal discussion of what effectiveness they had or didn’t.  Am I better because of them or are they the crutch that got me mentally ready to move forward?  My gut says the latter since I spent 33 years without needing anything but realistically going off them is…well…its taking the crutch away.  So the debate built up in my head along with other things I have no control over and as I argued with myself, my anxiety plotted its triumphant return.  Sensing this I started seeing a new therapist (whom I love) and have come to realize that while I made major progress in the past 2 years…there is not a finish line in life, just a constant track to run on.  Whether it is uphill, downhill, or even is what I have some control over…but I cannot stop.

NWBayIt was about Midnight the second week of July when my first anxiety attack in a while hit me.  I was piloting a boat on Lake George and had just rounded the Northwest Bay buoy and was heading north into dark waters and a shoreline miles away without lights when I felt the overwhelming feeling of not knowing where I was.  I knew where I was…but not exactly.  It has been a year since I drove the boat at night and this was a new boat with different blind spots, gauges, and sounds.  It is understandable to get spooked in the middle of the dark doing 25 mph on the lake and realizing you are not 100% sure of where you are.  Your eyes play tricks on you at night.  Distance is hard to read and boats don’t have headlights.  I was overwhelmed with the fear that I would not be able to find the dock I was driving to and that my wife Kate would have to take the wheel, or worse:  Talk me down from an anxiety attack in the middle of the lake with no cell reception.

Cell reception.  Seriously?  I used to do everything in my power to get away from cell reception.  I used to adore being alone.  I used to love impossible situations.  Add fog, rain, waves higher than the boat and I would have stayed calm the whole way and loved the thrill of it all.  Now?  I just don’t want to be alone…I want shared responsibility.

KelloggCentralWichitaToday it hit me again, and this one struck a chord.  At the intersection of Rock Road and Kellogg the light turned red as I went to cross the highway…a long light.  As I pulled into to the left turning lane I became acutely aware of how “trapped” I would be and started playing the “what if” game.  “What if I panicked right now?”  What if I just ran the light?”  What if…”  The game became the “what is” game.  I watched the car in front of me slow to a stop (silver Civic), I saw the car in the rearview pull in close behind me (beige Buick sedan), I looked right and saw the truck boxing me in (blue Tundra), and as I began debating making a U-Turn to the left out of the double turn lane a silver Kia pulled in next to me and I found myself with nowhere to go…and I panicked…bad.  The sunglasses came off my face and I started talking myself down but it was no use, I was deep in it and could feel my body wanting to ditch the car and run off screaming. Not an option!  I told myself as I dialed my wife who picked up on the fourth ring.  Before she could finish saying hello I told her, “I’m stuck and I need you to help talk me down!”  She asked where I was and in the time it took to tell her and explain what was going on the light turned green and I proceeded through the long overpass intersection and was “fine” again.

My hands are still shaking a bit.  It was too similar to my initial attack 2 years ago just 2 blocks away.  The only difference is 2 years ago I walked away from the incident asking what was wrong with me and if I’d ever be okay again.  Today, all I can think is “stupid anxiety!”  Seriously.  Stupid f**king anxiety.  I’ve given up trying to understand why this is happening to me and just started accepting that it does happen to me.  I’ve clearly got some crap bubbling up to the top again right now and need to find a way to release the pressure valve…but honestly, I think I just need to find a better way to silence my brain.  My brain is like when you get stuck on a single song lyric and it plays over and over and over and over again in your head.  Sometimes I just get stuck.  Writing helps…and here we are.  All I know is I am fighting a battle between what my gut is telling me to do and what I want to do.  My gut wants me to avoid life, especially the situations where it could suck to have anxiety…but I want to live life to the fullest.  There’s the rub and maybe the best lesson I’ve learned in my life:  Things are not going to get easier – but I will get better at overcoming obstacles if I keep trying.  No one who ever achieved greatness in life was faced with no hardship.  I doubt people will remember me in history books, my name is not in lights, and my triumphs are small in the eyes of others…but every day I get out of bed and find the will power to keep fighting my instincts so I can do what seems natural to so many others.  I’m striving to be a good person, a good father, a good husband, and most important:  Happy.

Stupid anxiety.

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