Ground Report from Bluto: Feeling the Heat at the Yuge Arizona Trump Rally

Trump is on Fire!
His campaign is En Fuego!
The Phoenix Rally was hot, hot, HOT! Blazing!
And so is Bluto…man, I’m burning up. Two days out in the Arizona desert sun? In the Summer!? Yep, pass the Gatorade, this chill Mountain Man has been feeling the heat. So please excuse me for a moment, I need to start this piece with a little refreshing splash of something cool. I think I need a little water thrown on my face before I can continue.
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Have you ever been on one of those crazy “River Rides” at an amusement park like Disneyland? So much fun! They buckle you into a large, circular raft with multiple seats. Enough seats on this raft, that you’re sure to be floating around with complete strangers, people only known to you as “that annoying guy standing ahead of me in line”. Fine. That’s Cool. Stranger Dude is also here to have fun, so let’s go together!
So here we all are, strangers & family members, riding on this big, spinning raft. Slowly going up, then crashing down into the water, again & again. Sometimes when you least expect it, just the smallest ebb of water suddenly rises up and you get totally soaked. Then at other times you’re bracing yourself as you see a roaring waterfall appear in your path, only to stop flowing the moment you arrive under it.
Oh dear! This ride is so crazy!
Oh look! There’s a wheel in the center of the raft – a giant “steering wheel” that everybody can grab, giving you the illusion that maybe you can control which way your raft is going to go. Quick! Let’s use it! “Hey! Maybe if we turn it just right, we won’t get soaked!” Wrong! You’re not in control! A soaking is what you’re gonna get, and a soaking you will like!
And guess what? We do like it! It’s okay. It’s fun, soaked or not. As you disembark the ride and shake off the water like a wet FluffyDog, you feel surprisingly exhilarated. “Wow, that was great! I’m ready to go again!” You look at the strangers you’ve just met, and now you’re fast friends, laughing & smiling at the ups & downs you’ve just experienced together.
That dude is no longer just “that guy in line”, he’s now your buddy that took a full wave of cold water down his pants & high-fived you at the hilarity of it all.
This is like my “Trump Experience” the past 14 months of following, and being involved with the Trump campaign. I got strapped into the Trump River Raft on June 16th, 2015 and have been riding it out ever since –spinning, rising, falling, laughing, crying and cheering the entire time. How about you? How’s the ride been so far? Yes, indeed, it’s been exhilarating!
The Trump Phoenix rally was no different. I strapped myself in, immediately got soaked, laughed, cried, cheered and disembarked a little more damp and a lot more happier than when I started.
Ahhhh….that’s better. I’m cooled off now. Let’s fire up the real story you came here to read.
Tuesday: I’m just chilling out, trying to get some work done, and *DING* a text comes in from my Mom in Arizona. “I’m going to the Trump rally tomorrow. Nobody will go with me. I don’t care. I’m going by myself. So excited!”
What?!? No way!
Now, like her son, Mom is a total trooper. She’s gonna do what she wants, to hell with caution or naysayers. That’s usually cool, but despite the fact she thinks she’s only 25 years old, the reality is my mother is 74 years young. I can’t let her stand in line in the desert heat, face the possibility of protesTARD zombies, stand on her feet for 7 hours straight AND be alone. Nope, no way. Bluto is on his way! Sleep be damned! Fire-up the DeathMobile…ROAD TRIP!!!
But before I leave, I need to tidy up my affairs at home & work. I let my Twitter & Treehouse friends know I’m going to Phoenix. Next thing I know, I’m being convinced to do video interviews, periscope broadcasts and writing another ground report. Sure it didn’t take much convincing, but I’m not a journalist! I’ve never conducted interviews. Periscope? Umm….how does that work? Bah, screw it. Lets just do it!
As I was ordering my ticket for the rally, I noticed there was an option for “Media Requests”. On a whim, I quickly messaged Sundance. “ Let’s try and get press credentials! New angle: I can be the Press covering the Press.” Ha! I didn’t really expect it to work, but what the heck, I’m having too much fun. Give it a try.
bluto az 7As expected, I was denied the coveted “Press Pass” by the Trump Campaign. It’s like they knew it was for that darn prankster Bluto, right? No worries as it was still inspirational. While I’m waiting to get my schedule in order, I quickly craft a homemade press credential badge, complete with lanyard & faux laminate protector. On one side, the image of Pepe the Frog – the ubiquitous Alt-right cartoon mascot, and on the other side my Twitter avatar & alter-ego, Mr. FluffyDogAttack. I was just doing it for laughs, but it did help AND hinder me at the rally– more about that later.
So off I go, into the night, down from my peaceful mountain, crossing the California & Arizona deserts to join my mom in support of our next President. Driving for 6 hours across the desert at night allows for some quiet thinking time alone in the car. Screw that! I’m crankin’ up the Rock-n-Roll. This Vulgarian’s doing some LOUD thinking and how about some Jimi Hendrix for company? And there went my thoughts, off a wandering & buzzing in my head to a wailing & chunk-a-chunking guitar.
Wednesday: Dawn. Day of the Big Rally
Not much time for sleep. Wake up! Get up! Family wants breakfast with you! Need to download Periscope & learn how to use it. Need to call the “radio show producer” and figure out what the heck I’m going to do today. Move it, move it, move it! Remember? Sleep be damned!
After a wonderful breakfast with my family, I plan to make the phone call to “Radio Producer Lady”. Many of the Treehouse regular readers may know, I’ve been recruited by Bill Mitchell’s YourVoice Radio to do weekly appearances and commentary for his 100% Pro-Trump show.
Now you may be asking, “How in the world did that happen, Bluto? Why you?”. Yeah, no kidding. I asked myself the same question! The answer is “Radio Producer Lady” is a Treeper! She’s one of us and you may see her commenting with the pseudonym “Parteagirl”. You also may recognize her real name, Cari Kelemen aka “Mrs. Fabulous” of YourVoice radio.
“Oh come on, Bluto! Let’s get to the rally. Do you really need to plug that radio show?” some might be saying. Why yes I do! If not for Cari cajoling & convincing me to do interviews many of the things I noticed and am writing about today may never have happened.
Plus, Bill Mitchell & Mrs Fabulous are 100% dedicated volunteers in the Trump Army. Just like me, and you, and you and you, and yeah, you over there…nobody is paying them for their time. They’ve just decided to suck it up, dive in and do whatever they can to save this country. Good on them, and good on us. We’re all in on this together folks!
So let’s give our hearty Treehouse support to YourVoice radio. Even if just for the fact that two of our own, Bluto & Parteagirl are involved. It’s all good!
Okay, back to my goofy story.
Between YouTube Periscope tutorials & the scribbling of notes, I call up Mrs. Fabulous for advice regarding video interviews. I thought I had some fresh & snappy ideas for questions and was excited to hear what Cari had to offer. After a lengthy discussion and some advice, I realized my No Sleep + Hendrix + Loud Thinking formula for good ideas may not be as brilliant as I thought. Cari gave me some much needed advice to set the table for my upcoming endeavor. Thanks Cari! As always, it’s good to have a smart woman reel me in when I go off track. Story of my life.
Minimally prepared for my adventure, I’m nearly ready to meet up with my Mom to go to the rally. Ruh-roh! Once again in this story, Bluto’s gonna go off track again. Will it ever end? Look out!
bluto phoenixMom is a Doctor and she has her own private practice. Amazingly, even at the age of 74, she’s still dedicated to her work and doesn’t want to retire yet. So much so, that she even worked the extra hours it took to earn a PhD in her field at the age 63. Okay, okay, you got me, I’m telling this story because I’m proud of my mother. Fair enough. But it also demonstrates that the Media narrative of Trump not appealing to women or the educated is complete nonsense. Nonsense I say!
Okay, back on track. “ Good grief Bluto, this story has more nooks & crannies than a 12 pack of English Muffins! When are you going to get to the rally?” Umm…I don’t know. But y’all knew what to expect when you started reading this, so stop talking to me while I’m writing! *AHEM*
So like many things in the Trump campaign, good fortune & timing was upon us. Not only could I clear my schedule, but Dr. Mom was lucky enough to re-schedule all her afternoon patients. But wait! There’s more!
Turns out my 15 year old nephew just happened to have a half-day at school. He wanted to go! Yahoo! MAGA Nephew will be in tow too. Phoenix is indeed heating up, baby. Good fortune is shining brightly today.
On the drive to the Convention Center, Dr. Mom flips on the NewsRadio station. Trump is speaking during the press conference after meeting with the President of Mexico. All three of us listen intently. Trump is hitting it out of the park. We look at each other, smiling & laughing. EPIC!
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Press conference ends. Wet blanket arrives. Radio pundit-man starts lambasting Trump saying, “He’s caved, he’s flip-flopped, he’s totally changed all his promises. He’s a flailing, weak, no-good candidate. Trump just really sucks, don’t you know, sucks I tell you! El-suck-a-rooney roo!” Uh why? Oh, he didn’t discuss who is paying for the wall, that’s why!
Good grief! The Media just won’t stop. Good. I say good. That little Pundit’s diatribe was immediately instructive to my nephew. Juxtaposed with what MAGA Nephew just heard from Trump’s own words, he heard first-hand what Crazy Uncle Bluto’s been ranting about all year: Media Lies & Media Bias. BOOM! Thank you Mr. Weenie Pundit, good job.
Oh, and did you also notice: The Wall is a forgone conclusion now. They’ve finally given up and are now quibbling about who will pay for it. As if that will somehow destroy Trump now. What’s the matter oh so brilliant manipulators in the Media? Are you feeling the heat? Why yes, I think you are, and it’s just gonna get hotter.
So finally readers, we’ve arrived at the venue. Yay!
We walk down to the Convention Center entrance, then past the entrance as anxious Trump supporters have already planted themselves in line. We continue walking for maybe 2 blocks and eventually reach the end of the line. I had no idea what to expect, but it seemed to me there were already a lot of people here. It was 1:30 in the afternoon and 104 degrees outside. The doors weren’t scheduled to open until 3, so that meant standing for a few hours in the heat. Seems like a pretty good turnout so far.
Dr. Mom & MAGA Nephew save my place in line, and I head off to do some reportin’. Still laughing at myself for doing this, I kind of feel like a dork. Oh and speaking of Total Dork Mode, many that read my Anaheim report may remember my Trump Rally Credo: Respect the Donald. He’s properly attired in a suit & tie every day, so of course Bluto decides coat & tie isn’t optional, it’s mandatory in Bluto-World. Aren’t you glad you don’t live in Bluto-World? It’s a weird place. Trust me. I know.
So here I am in Total Dork Mode, dressed with jacket & tie, wandering around the streets of Phoenix, midday, trying to talk to strangers in the Hot Phoenix Sun. Ha! Good luck dude!
First order of business, go back to the front of the line & livestream a Periscope for all the Twitter people. Then I decide to double-back & do it again only this time shooting a Time-Lapse Video via iPhone. And go!
I start walking slowly up the line of people, obviously shooting footage of them, and people start to react. Some of them yell out, others wave and others give me the traditional Trump MAGA Thumbs-up. Then I hear something unusual and funny, “PEP-AAAAAAY! PEPE!”
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Ahahahaha! I forgot I was wearing my homemade Pepe-the-Frog Press Credential Kit. A few people noticed it and immediately reacted with glee. Man, this is fun!
So I’m making my first pass of the crowd, and suddenly a trio of “Regular Press” sees me and quickly start moving my way. With Big ol’ Corporate Cameras & microphones in tow, they quickly catch up to me. A reporter-ette appears at my side and says to me, “What are you doing?”
I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I immediately went into my Signature Bluto Smart-Ass mode, “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m filming the line of people!” Then I whirl around with my iPhone & point it at their camera and announce, “Oh look! It’s the Press covering the Press!”
Bam! That’s all it took. Before I could get another word out and go into a sarcasm filled rant, they scurried away like Roaches when you turn a light on. Oh boy! I’m not even 30 minutes into my day here and I’m having the time of my life.
Is it hot? No! It’s SIZZLING!
After my first two runs up and down the long line of attendees, I’m starting to get a little thirsty. Did I mention it was hot? Oh yeah, I’m repeating myself now. Must be the heat. So I start walking back up the line to find Dr. Mom & grab some water from her. After a I pass the first block, I hear a voice calling to me, “Hello, hello! Can I talk to you?”
“Who me?” I’m thinking, but the man is waving me over & looking right at me. So I walk over to see what he wants. He’s sitting under a large, electronic Phoenix Convention Center sign, enjoying the shade with his wife. As I approach, he asks me, “Do you work for the Trump Campaign?”.
This is when I realized, I really stood out like a sore thumb this afternoon. I was the only idiot walking around in a suit and a tie. Even the serious “regular” corporate press had on comfortable clothes, short-sleeved shirts and some of them in shorts. What? They aren’t embracing the Total Dork Mode? Crazy!
Coupled with the fake press badge hanging around my neck, I had the look of somebody important. Ahhh….interesting. I had never thought of that. Cool, this is working to my advantage, people want to talk to me. I think to myself, “Oh, nice. This is going to be easy to get people to interview with me. Brilliant accidental move there Bluto!”
“No sir. I’m not with the campaign. I’m just doing some independent reporting for a conservative website & a Trump based radio show” I replied to the man.
Immediately he introduced himself and started telling me his story. George appeared to be in his 60s and had never voted in his life. In fact, he had never even registered to vote until this election season. He was so motivated by Trump and Trump’s message, he finally registered. He really wanted to tell me all about his love for The Donald. George was just great! I could feel this man’s passion and love after just a few minutes speaking to him.
I told him I planned on doing some video interviews and please wait, I’ll be right back (still thinking I’d better go get some water). The I realized, what the heck was I doing here in the first place? Get the interview now. Strike while I can, I may miss him on the return trip.
“No, no, no. Forget what I just said. Let’s do the interview now. Wait just one second…..” Then I started emptying my pockets & untangling the wire to my microphone. Quick! Plug it in! “Ok, George. Let’s do this now”.

And so went my first interview of the day. Wow, what a great way to start! “This is going to be easy”, I thought…
Off I went, moving up and down the lines of people. Asking, asking, asking if anybody would like to be interviewed. Hello? Would anybody like their voice to be heard? Oh geez, this isn’t as easy as I thought. Apparently my brothers and sisters on the Trump Train were more reluctant than I thought. What’s going on? This is strange.
Apparently my attire & phony press credentials made me appear TOO serious. I was getting skeptical replies of “Who is this for?”, “Who do you work for?” and people just shaking their heads no and waving me off. They were wary of the media. These people have been beaten down, demeaned, dismissed and lied about for over a full year. They’re sick of it. They don’t want to be a part of it any longer.
I’m being shunned! Not fair! Not fair! Gosh, If only they knew how much I loathe the mainstream media, then they’d want to hug me. Hmmm…I have the look of somebody important that they hate. Not cool, this is NOT working to my advantage, people don’t want to talk to me. I think to myself, “Oh, crap. This is going to be difficult to get people to interview with me. Not so Brilliant accidental move there Bluto!”
Fine. I’m just going to soldier on and charm them. I’ll make it work. And that’s what I did. Although I was initially disappointed, things started looking up and I found lots of people that wanted to talk to me. Plus there was George. Remember George? I couldn’t forget him. Not a chance, because he wouldn’t let me.
As I walked up and down the line of people, whenever I passed George he would shout out to me, “Thank you! I love you!”. It got me in the heart. Every. Single. Time. How could I not keep pushing forward with George cheering me on? Yep, George, old buddy, I was right about my initial assessment. This was going to be easy. Thanks for your help. He was a Godsend. I love you too, George!
I found all manner of voters on my video interview quest. I asked everyone the same two questions: Who did you vote for last Presidential Election and Can you please tell me in a few sentences, why you support Donald J. Trump now?
Most of them responded as Republicans that had voted for Romney, with many of them having a difficult time remembering his name. Too funny! I replied, “I agree, I don’t want to remember him either. We’re just trying to forget about that now” and we all laughed together, because it was true.
There were a handful of admitted liberals and previous Obama voters and even one very animated Ron Paul guy. The Obama voters were markedly shy about admitting their past sins, but I assured them all I wanted was the truth. I wasn’t here to scold, I was here to give them a voice. A voice the mainstream press not only ignores, but wants to angrily shove a giant ball-gag down their throats to silence them.
Suddenly I felt a really good about what I was doing. Even though I was sweating like mad and uncomfortably hot, I actually felt pretty darn good.
So what if very few people were going to see my work? For some of these people I was the only one listening to them – the only one asking them what they thought. At the very least, it was a small form of moral support – for both of us!
Uh oh, the lines are starting to move forward. I’d better rush off & get back in line with my mom & nephew. After handing me a bottle of water, Dr. Mom asked me if I had seen any protestors. It was only then that I realized something I failed to notice earlier: There were no protestors! I didn’t see a single protestor the entire time I was walking up & down and back & forth. So weird!
My mother told me they did encounter one protestor: A Black Lives Matter girl. It turns out she was the best kind of protestor anybody would want to encounter. She was a “Silent Protestor”! She just stood there, adorned with platitudes & shallow-thinking slogans. Standing, then standing some more and then a final epilogue of standing. Great stuff! Please let this be the future of Trump Protestors, I beg of you.
Finally we’re moving towards the entrance. Quick, quick, lets go inside! We’re all excited. Yay! Going inside means Air Conditioning. Hurry, hurry! As we slowly move forward, I look behind me to see the long line of people waiting to go inside. Yep, just as I thought, super long – almost as long as this meandering, slow moving article. Come on! Pick up the pace. Move it forward!
3:30 PM: We’re inside! It’s nice and cool. We’re getting much needed relief from the Arizona heat as people continue to stream in behind us. My mother ran into a friend and her young son, so they joined us as we chose our spot for today’s rally. As expected, security wouldn’t let us bring in our own water bottles, so I shuffled over to the concession stand to grab water for our little merry troop of Trumpsters.
I was only gone for a few minutes, and the hall was really filling up quickly. I had to carefully navigate thru the throngs of people to get back to my spot. We all took sips of our water, and settled in for the afternoon. It was going to be several hours until Trump walks on the stage. I started to just relax, look around and enjoy the company.
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In front of us was the most adorable two families. Children of all ages, smiling, laughing & waving at everybody around them. Two very young boys & one little girl took turns sitting on their daddy’s shoulders for better views. To the right of me, was a tower of a man. A huge, black Vietnam Veteran. Holy cow, he was tall.
Behind me, another burly dude adorned with flame tattoos on his arms and smiling from ear-to-ear. And everywhere else I looked, women. Women everywhere – some real hotties too. Oh sorry, mom. I didn’t just say that. Nope just some nice professional, conservative women here. Not noticing anything else. Yep, that’s me. The good son, not noticing. Mmmm hmmm….just reporting that the “Trump isn’t popular with women” narrative is 100% false. That’s my story. Yep.
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I had drained both my iPhone battery and the backup battery-pack, so the temptation to interview more people was completely gone. I just settled down and enjoyed the watching and talking to the crowd around me. The audio system was playing old Rolling Stones & Elton John songs. The vibe in the hall was charged and electric.
As the crowd continued streaming in, everybody was getting closer and closer. I accidentally bumped a nice woman behind me, apologized and we started chatting.
Can’t remember exactly how I brought it up, but The Conservative Treehouse came into our conversation. Her friend exclaimed, “Oh yes, I read the Treehouse! It’s great”. Then she whips out her phone and says, “See, look? I have the Treehouse App”. I look at her phone, and there it is, a Treehouse Icon. She presses it and zip, zoom-o the Treehouse Home Page fills the screen.
I look at her and say, “Cool! I’m Bluto!”
“You’re Bluto? Oh hi. I always read the Treehouse, but never comment” Then her eyes glance down at my press credentials hanging around my neck. “Hey!” she says as she points to Pepe-the-Frog, “I saw that on Twitter last night!” We both started laughing and she went back to scrolling thru the latest Treehouse thread.
A couple minutes of silence passed, then she exclaims again, “Hey, hey! Is this you?” as she points to some Tweets of mine that another Treeper smartly posted. I look down at her phone and see it’s something I had just Tweeted a mere ½ hour ago!
bluto az 4We all smiled and I thought, wow, all these little connections going on. I’m standing next to Treehouse readers, 6 hours from my home in a huge rally hall and Trump’s going to speak soon. Feels kinda magical.
Finally the warm-up speakers begin their rotations on the stage. The audience is fired up! John McCain is mentioned. The entire hall BOOS heartily, then immediately breaks out into laughter. We’re having so much fun, even booing McCain can’t be taken too seriously.
Sheriff Joe walks on to the stage. The crowd goes wild. Arizonans are loving Sheriff Joe, big league. Everybody is listening intently. Joe has a short pause during his speech, it’s very quiet. A man screams out at the top of his lungs, “YOU SUCK MEDIA!!!!”. The entire hall and the press could hear THAT. And yet again, the place is howling with laughter.
Wow, what a night! Sheriff Joe! Rudy Guiliani! Jeff Sessions! Mike Pence! It’s like an All-Star game in here. The crowd is so pumped up, and now Trump comes on the stage. Wooo-hooooo! The entire place erupts!
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As Trump speaks, the crowd pushes in more. New people move in next to me. One of these new people glances down at my silly, fake press credentials. She touches them and says to me, “Who do you work for?”
I reply, “I’m just an independent guy writing for a conservative website and a radio show. Sorry, these are just for fun” as I point to the picture of FluffyDog.
She doesn’t seem to care. She blurts out as she points to another woman, “My friend is a Cuban-American! She needs to be heard!” Wow! My goofy press credential kit strikes again! I need to talk to this woman.
So, in between pauses, we exchange pleasantries. She’s nearly in tears with emotion. I tell her, “Please, don’t go away after the rally. I want to interview you! I think I might have enough battery power left. Do you want to be interviewed?”
“Yes, yes! Do you know Donald Trump? Can you get my message to him? I really want to tell him how much he means to me! I came from Cuba, I love this country!”
Now I’m starting to tear up.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know Mr. Trump. But I do know he or his staff has read The Conservative Treehouse in the past. He did Tweet out a link to one of the stories. I plan to write a story for the Treehouse website. Maybe, just maybe somebody will get your message to Trump. You never know!”
We went back to watching the speech. Then at one point we looked at each other again and spontaneously hugged. What a nice moment! Remember when I wrote about Anaheim and declared that a Trump Rally was a Love Fest? So true, so true!
As Trump ended his speech and walked down to the floor a classic Rolling Stones song was piped thru the hall, “You can’t always get what you waaaah—ant, You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need”.
Sure I’ve heard that song, maybe a thousand times and those lyrics worked on so many levels with Trump. But at that moment, my thoughts went to myself and that lovely, teary-eyed Cuban-American woman. She really wanted to meet Donald Trump. She didn’t get to meet him. She didn’t get what she wanted. But, she got what she needed, somebody to hear her voice and the hope that others will hear it too.
And me, running around with no sleep, dressed like a fool in the Hot Desert Sun trying to convince strangers to talk to me….I needed to feel this whole nutty endeavor was worth it, and I was truly doing something good.
After the rally, I did meet up with my new Cuban-American friend. I let her speak her mind and get her message out.

She smiled thru teary-eyes, then hugged me again. I knew I had done something good. It had been an amazing day, but I sure did need that. It felt great.
As we all slowly exited the convention hall, that song kept playing in my head. I bet as I write this, you readers are hearing it too:
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes, you just might find
You get what you need
Oh boy, does this country need Donald Trump.

Be of good cheer, because that “sometime” is now.

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Author’s note:
Soon you’ll be able to hear my “Bluto’s Take” where I talk about the Phoenix Trump Rally via Bill Mitchell’s YourVoice Radio.
Link to site: https://www.spreaker.com/show/yourvoice-radio
Additionally, our own Treeper, Cari Kelemen is busy editing my Rally interview footage for a short YouTube Video, also to be featured by Bill Mitchell.
Link to site: https://www.youtube.com/user/mitchellvii1
Hopefully both items will be ready soon.  I’ll be sure to link to them here & on my Twitter: @fluffydogattack.  Thanks for reading.  Cheers!
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