Robert

No On 1

Tuesday, 20. October 2009, 17:01:18

So, most people who know me know that I don't get involved in politics. I hate the whole political back and forth squabbles and having to endure every Summer and Autumn filled with hatred from whichever side's turn it is to spew next.

I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.

...but there's always a "but" somewhere...

...and this time, I think it is high time I voice what I have to say regarding Issue 1 on the ballots here in my beloved State of Maine: the issue of gay marriage.

Last year, our governor, John Baldacci, did something historic not only to the State of Maine, but, to the United States, and added to the history books: he became the first governor of any state to endorse gay marriage by signing a bill which passed through the State House and Senate to his desk. This man went against his own personal beliefs on the issue and made his decision to be all-inclusive.

Celebrations in the gay communities all over Maine ensued. We don't have the biggest statewide gay population compared to New York, California, Florida, Texas, etc. but, we do well on our own... and that's not to include the just-as-large-maybe-even-larger gay friendly population here, who celebrated right along with us.

Oh, I must admit that I'm not in a big hurry to go waltzing down the aisle either, but, for the sake of those who are close to me, who would like to do so, and for the right reasons, etc. AND for the fact that it's a huge stride in EQUAL rights. Yes, that's right the word equal...equal means equal; equal means everyone is able to do the same thing as his or her neighbor; equal, equal, equal, equal, equal, equal...folks: my friends: everyone: LISTEN UP!!! We're all human beings no matter what we feel about anyone else. We are all born, we all live, we all die.

Of course, the people who are against the whole thing hit the streets right away with their petitions in hand getting enough signatures and the people's veto was underway, and the advertisements on television began.

Now, once again, I, who hate politics and could care less to speak up about anything except to cast my own private vote as a private citizen in my own private voting booth -- I'M SPEAKING UP!!!

For the very first time, I'm actually telling the world BEFORE the polls, I'm going to vote NO on Issue 1 (I do not want to reject the gay marriage law). Yes, I'm gay. No, I'm not getting married, nor am I engaged to be married.

...and for once I have a few things to say:

Let's begin with Bishop Malone in Portland. First of all, the separation of church and state should be remembered here and this person is using his powers as a head of the local church to influence a State issue. He has also publicly announced his intention to pass the baskets an extra time at service specifically to support this political cause. The political cause isn't going to refuse the contributions, so, could someone please tell me how this is legal? Besides the church/state issue, this bishop, who is so vocally opposed to same sex marriage is also the very same person who reinstated a sexually deviant priest and has defended others -- so, which is better: Two men getting married and living their lives legally and without doing any harm to the community, or a religious figure who diddles little children scarring them for life with no recourse?

...and speaking about children...

HOW DO SCHOOLS FIT ANYWHERE INTO THE ISSUE OF WHETHER TWO ADULTS CAN GET MARRIED!? Other than the fact that the couple might actually be raising children and need to be in contact with teachers regarding the well-being of said children.

Who said anything about gay marriage being a subject taught in schools?

Would someone please explain the logic of gay marriage superseding reading, writing, mathematics, science, grammar...all of those required subjects in the classroom. Teachers in all schools have well enough to do with the meager-est of salaries to have to worry about some social issue. I remember when I was in school, every once in a while, a question about an adult issue was broached, and teachers would flatly say right out that something like that was not appropriate for us to talk about, and get right back on with teaching -- and often, the teachers would, because whatever was brought up, write a note or call the parents just to let them know what their kids were saying in class.

The point is: LEGALIZING GAY MARRIAGE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CURRICULUM IN SCHOOLS!!!

These ads are rather unfair and misleading and have no place with the issue.

...and the most recent ad from "their" side is what finally made my mind up to speak out...

The people who wish to ban gay marriage have come out with an ad that claims that by legalizing gay marriage that teachers in schools will have to explain to kids (direct quote from the ad:) "What is gay sex?" and then the ad shows a graphic of an outline similar to what might be written on a blackboard as part of a lesson plan.

So, the people who are so opposed to this issue and are so afraid of these subjects being broached -- THESE PEOPLE ARE THE ONES BROACHING THE SUBJECTS IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!

Please tell me the logic: A child is watching television and this commercial comes on claiming that legalizing gay marriage is going to lead to teaching about gay sex in the classroom; this child comes to the adult "Mommy, what is gay sex?" When Mommy asks the kid where he heard that, and he says he saw it on the commercial on television...

If you don't want your kid to ask "What is gay sex?" why would you expose said child to it right there in your own advertisement?

So, we have a political movement that is illegally funded and needs to hit below the belt with misleading and baseless advertisements bordering on flat out lying just to get numbers on the boards AND publicly supported by the head of a religious community that has allowed at least one known child molester to remain free on the streets all while keeping him as a working clergyman in the church which he serves.

This is fact.

Yes, even if I was heterosexual, I would still be voting NO on Issue 1 this November simply because I believe in freedom and justice for ALL.

...and you know the great thing about it all is? You don't have to agree!!! You don't have to even like gay people. You could be one of the most homophobic people that this state has ever (or never) known. You could secretly wish that all gays get herded off in trains to camps like they did in Nazi Europe or here in the United States back in WWII.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO AGREE WITH ANYTHING ABOUT THE GAY COMMUNITY!!!

I would never ask anyone to change how they feel about gay people. I know that some people hate me just because I'm gay. I'm comfortable knowing that they have just as much right to hate me as I have to exist.

...but how about just living and letting live?

...and how about the money that WILL come pouring into Maine? I mean, of course, it's all been said too many times before, and people with their hands constantly held out to the State asking for more money don't seem to realize where that money is coming from, and seeing as they're some of the first to raise a BIG noise when they're denied any funding because the moneys just aren't available...

Does anyone realize why we're called "Vacationland?" How about a nice wedding at the Portland Headlight...or Pemaquid? How about the backdrop of Acadia National Park for the most perfect day? How about caterers for the event? How about tailors and seamstresses? How about hotels? Wouldn't it be the most perfect thing for a tourist state to go an entire Summer completely booked? What about a Winter wedding? Full slopes at the ski resorts? Baxter State Park at the foot of Katahdin?

...and these are just examples of weddings. How awesome would it be that not only do people decide to pour in the dollars to a perfect Maine wedding and then decide, it's the perfect place to honeymoon just the same? Perhaps live? Do people not realize we're in a real estate crisis here (ok, so, some of the rates have gone up in the housing market, but nothing to make any note of...we're still poor!)

...and wouldn't you know it...the farms and orchards all over the State that get assistance to stay alive and well and working...you know, all that money pouring into our State is taxed and some of those taxes do go to help keep Maine potatoes and Maine cranberries and Maine Pine trees growing and thriving. Enough fishermen and lobstermen need assistance.

With more money, we could have the necessary means to afford police and fire and rescue services that some have had to be cut recently due to no money.

Do you realize the jobs that would be created? Don't you think that we could re-open some of the old abandoned mills and put business and do good for the communities?

I know that some of the lobstermen from way up Downeast don't care much for gay people...just the same as some of the potato farmers and corn farmers and dairy farmers and wood loggers in the middle of the state. I know this and I would never try to change their minds. They are entitled to not like gay people for their own reasons. However, they will also benefit in the end by allowing people to just live and let live.

I know I'm saying just as much as everyone else has, but, everything I say (just as everyone else has said) comes from the heart. I love Maine. Maine is my home. I never want to leave here. Even if I never get married, I want to be able to travel around and visit the world and be the proudest person ever to say that I come from Maine.

Freedom and justice for all: THAT'S the way life should be. That's Maine.

Please vote "NO" on Issue 1.

.

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And Then There's Maude

Monday, 5. October 2009, 20:42:26

A large silver-gray bronze-y gal who knows she's being observed by the world around her and decides to run the show and do things her way.

None other a woman than the 1991 Cadillac Brougham that starred in the events of the weekend of most recent memory.

Let's begin upon her arrival into the lives of the household in the Autumn of 2007. Day One (actually: Night One) the sale final and the automobile not yet named being driven down the highway, just to be driven -- just enough petrol in the tank to get us to the service station to fill up, but noooooo.

She decided that fumes weren't good enough and so, only a few hundred feet from the toll booth to get off of the highway, she stops and we use the momentum of the large, heavy street-boat to pull over to the shoulder and turn on the hazard flicker. Great thanks to Art, an attendant at the booth, who allowed us the use of a filled gascan for the meager amount of $5.00 (which we didn't have except to go get change at the service station). He took my State ID just to secure our return.

Even that little taste was almost not good enough for her tank. She guzzled that up as soon as she could and upon opening the little knob on the gastank, she sucked in air! You could hear the "whoosh" -- OMG, she was definitely empty. She wanted and needed gasoline and indeed, she got what she wanted.

The driver of the vehicle was even chided by his own mother (to which I still laugh) "Oh my God! You've only had it for three hours and you ran out of gas!"

Upon getting back on the highway, getting up the ramp and preparing to merge with traffic, the thought of her being an old woman (which she truly was) mingled with the thought of that old commercial of the old women stopped on the ramp getting on the highway and hearing "Punch it, Maude!" The name was perfect! It fit. It stayed.

Maude loves the highway! She hates the town streets. She doesn't like driving on the town streets. She could care less for traffic, and she'll tell you so. Her mileage soared while driving at speeds too illegal to report on a public board, but certainly made up for those miles in town almost double decreasing those magnificent numbers she produced on the road getting to whatever town. Her brakes suddenly, out of nowhere just decided to go kaput. Her battery didn't want to go. She had all of the little bits and pieces that needed work all at the same time...all while in town. Yes, indeed, Maude hates being in town.

Somewhere, I'm hearing the song "Don't Fence Me In."

...and she was determined to be driven until being stopped. I can't count how many times we've been pulled over because of an expired inspection sticker -- but somehow, she made it through being driven on a sticker almost two years old...and part of that time, on only half of a sticker. Do you realise how many times she got her own self out of her own mess with that need to be driven on the open road? Nary a ticket! It's the car, you know. Guys really fall for a great car...and it's a shame to rid the roads of such beauty. Only one guy was nasty toward the driver of dear Maude...the one in Old Orchard Beach, who either needed at least a ticket on his sheet for the day, or didn't have anything better to do on a Sunday afternoon -- expired sticker, you know the drill...blue lights, pull over, license, registration, insurance, etc. and a nice slow walk to the driver's side door, eyeballing Maude's elegant body before trying to be big tough guy...who still let us get back on the road -- right back to the highway and drive!

Maude could be one hell of a cougar when she needed to be, and the boys fell for it every time. Be very aware that I say "cougar" in the greatest respect for women of a certain age who still have what it takes. This car is more like a brazen hussy!

Interestingly enough, we've never been pulled over for speeding...'nuff said.

Bit by bit, Maude really did need work under the hood. Little things were starting to go all at once, instead of one thing at a time, and so, driving became less and less and turned into pretty much being parked on the side of the street only to move it to the other side of the street once a week for street cleaning. Maude didn't like that...not one bit.

"I'll show you..." thought she as she decided not to recharge her battery with just a few trips around the streets of town. Do you really think that a car has the mind of her own to just plain block the alternator from keeping a charge just to punish her driver for not taking her out on the highway? She was having to be jumped every week just to cross the street. She decided that instead of being the big heavy Cadillac that she was, when the snows came to town and she needed to be parked elsewhere for the snow bans in town, she wasn't going without a big show. Heavy weight, traction? Nooooooooo. This was in-town driving and the driver was, indeed being punished by She, the Queen of the Open Road (heavy emphasis on "open" and "road") Slip-slide -- but no accident, nothing to drop her out of commission; of course not. This was her soul talking, screaming "GET ME ON THAT HIGHWAY OR I WON'T DRIVE!"

She was parked most of the first Winter in a friend's off-street parking lot and along comes the fair weather again, and on the highway she goes and she drove like nothing was amiss under that huge awning that was her hood. (seriously, you could lift that thing and have a picnic under it in a rainstorm!) She was fine, I figure, with the rest and relaxation over the Winter because come good driving weather again, she responded rather well to that on-ramp to I-295 just down the street. Wouldn't you know it? She sputtered and coughed and was just about ready to stall on the way up the ramp and off of the in-town streets, and as soon as we crossed over into the world of high speed driving, she was a new woman!

More in-town driving did more and more under her hood than anyone could really imagine all at once. So, she needed to be brought to a mechanic, who did some work on her -- not much, but enough to drive here and there -- practically disabled her open road time, which sent her into a spin of a temper tantrum! She decided that since she wasn't going to be driving on the open road, she was going to drain the "new" battery that was put in.

...and so she was towed to a very good mechanic recommended by a very good friend -- who just happens to live a third of the way across the Southern portion of the State of Maine, going North and inland. Wouldn't you know it? She wasn't driving, but still on the highway, she WAS the pride of the road sitting on top of that flatbed. I wasn't there personally to see the sight, but, I can just imagine the grandeur.

Just as the lot of us thought, she was in bad shape. All of these little individual things were happening all at once, instead of just one little thing at a time. Mechanic wasn't going to be able to do much and the budget wasn't able to allow it all to be done as well...at least for now.

...which brings us nearly up to date.

How is it that an automobile can possess a person so that One will NOT under any circumstances send her away until she is completely and utterly dead with all hope abandoned for even so much as clicking the starter (if the battery is charged, of course)

October 3, 2009
The car needs to be off of the mechanic's lot. Everything that could have been done at this point in time has been done and she needs to be put somewhere until work can be done on her...which will eventually happen, just not right now.

Yes, Maude, we promise, you'll be able to drive the open road again, soon.

So, good friend in Lisbon knows a good rental dealer in Brunswick for a tow-dolly which will eventually tow the car still parked in Lewiston. Other good friend in Livermore is allowing a small space on her portion of land to park Maude for the Winter, safe, off the street, still good looking as ever (who knows...maybe a draw for customers at her shop...Maude does have that kind of magick.)

Saturday, the rental place is open, Sunday, closed, so, we ended up having to pay for two days, which would have, under normal circumstances only been a couple of hours worth of use. We get to the mechanic's lot and, of course, Maude needs to be jumped. She gets charged up enough to start, and just knowing that she's going to be on the open road, she stays running and running and running, nary a sputter or cough (except when it came time to go in reverse and the fluids had to be wakened up a bit...but it happened and she was running almost as if she was fresh off the lot and ready to go...but she knew what was going to happen, so, she was cooperating rather well. Up onto the tow-dolly she went without a problem. Straps went on and chains went on and everything was fine and secure. Away we went on our journey from Lewiston to Livermore with lots of open road -- after we left the upper side of Auburn, of course...which meant, we had to drive through town; by this time, without saying nothing more than "drive through town..." can you imagine what came next?

About a block from the Auburn Mall area, an on-ramp is conveniently placed. On the road, through town, at a stoplight, a kind person alerted us that the car was beginning to vier sideways and we decided to cross under the highway and check the car on the dolly in the parking lot of the K-Mart which was, of course, RIGHT THERE! But Nooooooooooo. Maude wanted to go onto the highway and she decided to jump the dolly and drop to the ground right at the entrance to the highway...on the approach of the on-ramp!

Police, Firetruck, Tow-wrecker...yes, indeedie, Maude pulled another tantrum and decided that she was going to stop traffic in the place where traffic was congested the most! Oh yeah, she also jammed herself into the tow-dolly to ensure that she was going nowhere. So, the tow-wrecker lifted Maude out of the jam and disconnected from the tow-dolly and we drove into the parking lot and waited for him to bring her on over. As we inspected the tow-dolly after all was said and done, we discovered that the straps were rotted and broken away, meaning they were meant to be broken under the correct circumstances -- coincidence? As the whole thing was happening, I saw with my own two eyes in the side-view mirror the front tires turning toward the highway before landing on the ground. Yes, they turned to the highway and because we weren't going that route, she dropped off the tow-dolly.

I hopped into the tow-wrecker with the driver to direct him the rest of the way to the place in Livermore while Lisbon friend and driver of Maude went back to get a full refund on the faulty tow-dolly, which happened way too easily. I have a feeling he was already planning on them demanding tow fees too, but, that didn't happen. All was well with the full refund. Personally, I think the tow fee should be recouped too, but, everything happened peacefully and so that is that. Just past Auburn, we were on the open road and the tow-wrecker was making all sorts of headway and with his lights flashing several people were actually pulling over and letting us through. I liked that...but then again, it was Maude -- on the open road getting her way...not even a twitch!

We made it to the destination, Maude was parked perfectly -- perfectly in the corner of the property where she will rest through the Winter. It's a good enough out-of-town open road right next to her -- a few feet away. She'll be able to be fixed little by little and, if anything, she'll be beginning her next voyage on the open road, where she belongs.

.

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It's That Time Of Year Again

Tuesday, 15. September 2009, 15:47:50

SOMETHING TOLD THE WILD GEESE

By Rachel Field

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go,
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, "snow."

Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, "frost."

All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spices,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.

* * * * * *

This has been one of my absolute favorite poems of all time ever since I learned it in the second grade, and I have a little bit of a ritual every year around this time, when I can finally feel Summer's last grasp at trying to strangle the life out of every living thing. The cool in the days returns and I'm ever so happy. I think of the words, recite them to myself, share the poem with the rest of the world…

(just wait until the real Winter finally gets here and we're in the good and thick of it, and I start pushing Robert Frost on everyone!)

A crispness to the blue sky tends to stand out; something that doesn't happen all through the year, but just around this time. It's still Summer, but you can tell, that's a September sky. That's pure Autumn…which is just that much a portion of "my" Winter.

You see, if you haven't already figured it out – I consider the Autumn, since it is the threshold to Winter, being just that much a part of Winter (even though my absolute favorite part of Winter is Solstice time and after…right in the thick of the storms and winds and blow ye from the depths of space and freeze the world time of year). I've lived much of my life by the old and ancient calendar of the "dark" (or darkening) season and the "light" season. Indeed, I celebrate the equinoxes and solstices as separate entities, but live my life through the years as only being split in two – the dark and the light. From Lughnasadh (the first week of August) we actually see the decline of the long Summer days and they're visibly shortening, even though that process begins right at the solstice, it become actually visible and noticeable in August…that begins my time of the year…and how about that, Autumn is smack dab on the doorstep! So, indeed, I do put so much a significance to Autumn in my Winter.

The farmers' markets are packed with fresh harvest.

Do you know something? Canning is coming back in style again after several years of being dormant and people are jarring up their own stuff for keeping on the shelves. All of a sudden, we're seeing canners and jars and lids and even the accessories (the little swatches of cloth to decorate, "special" markers to mark the sides of the jars – personally, a Sharpie or a Marks-A-Lot has worked fine for me for the many years I've been doing it…but, we certainly do live in a capitalist society, so, I suppose, all the best of luck to the merchandisers)

Indeed, it's a business-y time of year – and that's good for the economy – I mean, lots of companies do like to manage their fiscal years around the nation's, but also, school is starting up again, and wouldn't you know it…unemployment is somewhat slowing down and here and there a few more jobs are to be had (I'm lucky enough to have been one to finally climb out of the deep hole of unemployment and so I'm thankful, but also watching the world through different eyes.) Aside from regular business, here in Maine, we're wrapping up one phase of the tourist season and beginning another. You see, in the hot of the summer, a good number of the tourists happen to be the families with the kids – renting out cottages and other rentals; and then, as school starts back up and families go home, then you get the quieter couples and LOTS of retirees – those who would rather avoid the strongest of Summer heat and sun, but would still like to be able to walk without a jacket in the daytime along the beaches – this is the interim group of tourists that come around between the typical Summer crowd and the LeafPeepers (when Autumn finally shows her face.) Why not? It's good for business – and we do thrive on our tourists here in Vacationland.

…and what about this time of year sparking the fair circuit? Do you know how many people are primping and prepping and getting things just right for bringing to the country fairs? I know that other areas of the country have either declined on the fairs, or else, just turned this time of year into a carnival with midway rides and carnie booths (not to say those aren't fun either, but…) I'm so happy that most of the places here in Maine still remember the crafts and the animals and the harvests and the old fashioned games like the sack races and the pig chases and the pie eating contests for the kids – and the stitching and knitting exhibits and the farm machinery and the harvests for the adults…yes, indeed, people still award blue ribbons for best pie in show, or best jam, or best cross stitch, or best sweater…I miss growing up on the fair circuit – indeed, my family did – but we mostly kept a sales booth to sell crafts and yarns and materials. Ah, but I have seen, firsthand, the little old ladies – the sweetest people you'd ever meet – until fair time – come out with sharpened teeth and claws, knitting furiously, stitching with not even the hint of a knot in the thread, hand quilting absolute perfect stitches, you might have thought a machine did them – and then also inspecting everyone else's work – examining the back of cross stitched or needlepointed pieces and even two-colour carryovers on the backside of knit pieces, sniffing over a pumpkin or apple pie and trying to figure out just how much of what spice went in and just how long the custard cooked, perhaps turning a jar of jam to see how well it jelled – and masterfully cloaking all of the savage beast of good competition with the most convincing smiles and just that standard sweet old lady look. I love it all, and if I could live my life in something maybe resembling a Gypsy vardo traveling all over the fair circuit this time of year and then parking somewhere until the snow melts into Spring, I would give up all that I know of this life that I live now just to do that. This time of year begins my life as I know and love it.

I'm lucky enough to live on the third floor up apartment in my building and I'm RIGHT AT tree level and so, I'm sitting here looking out my window at the little Maple seeds (we used to love watching them twirl as they fell) and they're just now turning the reddish-brownish tones, but all the while, still hanging on to the green leaves for dear life – no, it's not time to break loose and tumble to the ground just yet, but, soon.

I'm hearing the Chickadees in the morning again; don't get to hear them all that much through the Summer. I love to wake up to hear that "looooo looooo – looooo looooo – chicka dee dee dee dee dee" They're frolicking in the trees just outside of the window.

The most beautiful smelling breeze comes through the windows and, of course, a common word for the weatherman is "good sleeping weather" – no fans or air conditioners – good high pressure (at least for now, the rain will come again soon) – and a very slight chilly feel – another bit of luck, being on the third-floor apartment and right in the urban canopy. Maybe it's just me, but, I feel that being right up among the branches and the leaves, I'm right in a spot where most of the time, the heat of the day is filtered and also the light and even the pollution (yes, even here in beautiful Portland, Maine, we have the city smells) So, what comes through the windows is simply fresh and beautiful.

The cats are either sleepy – the change of season kind of sleepy – they certainly know what time of year it is…or else, they're the most explosive bundles of skin and bones and fur you've ever known. Have you ever seen a cat during the changing seasons tearing through the house like a streak of colour? There must be a purpose to having an insatiable need to run to one spot, just to stop short, turn, and run to another one, just to do the same thing and run to yet another spot…but it happens every year. I mean, yes, indeed, they get that wild hair every once in a while all through the year – any cat person knows this, but, it's so much more concentrated this time of year, and it's so entertaining – until I have to go behind them and pick up the mess that these miniature tornadoes left behind. I mean, really…how many cat people REALLY keep all of the priceless antiques out for display on rickety tiny-top tables? What priceless antiques…oh, that's right…cat person.

All of the ducklings that were swimming in line in the ponds all through the year have grown up, but they haven't changed feather colour just yet, so, all you see is brown. After the Winter, we'll start seeing more of the beautiful green heads and the dark brown backs on the boys and the lighter brown and the spots on the girls…and they all know what time of day it is (be it breakfast, lunch, supper, or any other snack time) when a human just happens by…yes, indeed, even the ducks have grown into this time of year and have learned to gather into one spot when people come 'round because they know they're getting some kind of crumb that they're ready to fight over. They're learning how to fly – guess where they'll be going soon enough. When you see young ducks testing out their wings by running and jumping off of the banks of a lake or a pond, just to see if they can fly a few feet before crashing into the water…you know that in a few weeks, they're going to be taking to the air…it's coming…you know it.

…and how do you like that? It's knitting season (well, for me, all year 'round is knitting season, but…) New yarns and wools that have been spun and hung and plied and dyed and dried and skeined are going up on the shelves – why else do you think all of the yarn shops have been having their mega sales all Summer long? They have to make room somehow. New patterns are springing up all over the place. The "seasonal" knitters are going back to picking up the needles again, or else casting on something new. It kind of works in rather well even with schools as well…what art teacher wouldn't want to inspire creativity in kids? They're starting to teach knitting more and more to all sorts of kids in all sorts of schools these days. Interesting, what terminology will do. I mean, it will always keep the term of "craft" but, call it "art" and it becomes a medium for everyone!

I'm so alive and I know it.

I'm happy today.

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