This is a Silly Post, Isn’t It?

Posted on February 23, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Nobody really thought I was going to forgo Lame Post Friday, as I declared at the end of yesterday’s post, did they?

Oh, there’s some half-baked philosophy right there. How can I resist? I recently read somewhere that women and minorities tend to add qualifiers to their statements. This is blank, ISN’T IT? I think this, DON’T YOU? Nobody thought, DID THEY? Well, I am a woman (am I not?) (really hate to say “aren’t I?” or even “ain’t I?”) (although of the two, I prefer the latter, because Grace Kelly said it in Rear Window) (but I digress).

Why do you suppose this is? I think (philosophically, of course) that it is different reasons for different women. Some women are unsure of themselves. Some want everybody to get along and feel that means agreeing on most things. Some are just eager to be loved. And for many, I’m sure it is just a bad habit (don’t you think so?). And I KNOW, before anybody tells me, that there are women who do not follow this speech pattern. To those women, I say, you go, girls (they might be offended that I call them “girls” instead of “women,” but that is a chance I’ll take).

Come to think of it, I said I would ATTEMPT to forgo Lame Post Friday, but I made no promises. That means I’m in the clear (right?). (I’m really just adding these qualifiers to be silly now; you guys got that, didn’t you?)(OK, that last “didn’t you?” I meant).

Actually, I personally have a tendency to make statements, and I am very surprised when people disagree with me. As many women do, completely without qualifiers. “Oh, I don’t think so,” they say, as if I am some odd specimen for thinking such a thing.

Which brings up another point: I have been philosophizing about something I read which I have not observed personally, randomly or otherwise (I feel I must insert here for the benefit of new readers, if any, that Lame Post Friday ideally consists of random observations and half-baked philosophies). And I’ve gone on for over 300 words. That is plenty long enough for a Lame Friday Post. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Wish I Had Written That Spare Post

Posted on February 22, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I think I was really onto something with the idea of “In Case of Emergency Hit Publish” (or else I was on something, I think the saying goes). However, the sad truth is, I have not written any other spare posts. Could be a problem.

This morning instead of writing my post, I started writing another play. I haven’t quite finished the last play I was working on, but it has gotten to the point where I need to type in the first draft, print it out and ponder my options.

There I was, scribbling notes on a Christmas play. I wasn’t really nuts about it so far, but I persevered. And I had my reward, because in the midst of my note making, I came up with something I liked. Ha ha ha (satisfied chuckle). I hope nobody feels frustrated that I can’t share it with you, but I think I’ve mentioned how it is a mistake to talk about a piece of writing before it is finished. In fact, I’ve said too much already.

Still, I thought, Non-Sequitur Thursday. How hard can it be? Moreover, it can’t be too long of a post, because I have a dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre tonight.

Here’s a grammatical note, just to veer into Stream of Consciousness Thursday instead: I think the proper construction is “too long a post,” but I seem to like better the sound of “too long of a post” when I say it in my head. I always say things in my head when I write them. Sometimes after I write them I call Steven upstairs and say them out loud.

To continue with my Thursday story, as the day wore on, I developed a rather severe headache. I think it has something to do with the weather, but I’m not a doctor, so what do I really know? I was in pain. I did not write further on subsequent breaks.

Now I am at home and the headache has subsided. The result of the Equate Migraine Relief? The blue Gator Ade? Being home with my husband and dog? The coffee Steven made for me? No matter. I’m good to type, if only I had written something to type in.

And just like that, I have over 300 words. Oh, I love this blogging hobby. Tomorrow I will attempt to forgo Lame Post Friday and come up with something real to write about, but I can make no promises. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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Tabby at the Theatre

Posted on February 21, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

This post is in the nature of Preview of Coming Attractions at Ilion Little Theatre. However, since to me the most interesting aspect of the evening was the extremely cute behavior of our exceedingly cute schnoodle I thought I’d put her name in the headline.

Tuesday night Steven had an appointment to listen to a possible accompanist for Dirty Work at the Crossroads, the play he is to direct for May performances.

We have been feeling a little discouraged about Dirty Work lately. Regular readers (Hi, Mom!) might remember that the play was originally to have been presented in October but ran into problems. When we postponed it to May the cast which we had FINALLY assembled seemed to think it would be OK. Turns out not so much.

Well, they do say life happens while you are making other plans. Our leading lady was forced to drop out by unexpected circumstances (I feel I must emphasize beyond her control, because in general the woman is the most reliable of actresses and wonderful to work with) (I do hope her circumstances will allow her to participate in future productions), and we have not gotten confirmations from three other cast members. On the brighter side, I know at least one cast member has been looking over his script (I go to Curves with his wife) (What, you thought it was me?).

Julianne Allen, who is directing the current production, The Crazy Times, highly recommended a young lady who is one of her piano students to be the accompanist for Dirty Works. Accordingly, we headed to the theatre to meet the young lady and hear her play. I guess technically only Steven needed to go, but Tabby and I went along to offer out input.

Tuesday, local readers know, is the day the weather got a little dicey in the evening. It actually was not too bad in Herkimer and Ilion. The snow was heavy and wet when I drove home from work around quarter to four, but it had stopped by the time we headed to the theatre for six.

Once we got into the theatre I let Tabby off the leash, and she delightedly ran around, sniffing everything and being petted by everyone there. I can’t say she sat quietly and enjoyed hearing the pianist though. She wanted to see what was going on so jumped up to sniff the keys. Steven called her back. It did not seem to phase the player at all, so I thought that boded well.

She is a very talented young lady, and her name completely escapes me. She also has experience accompanying vocalists, which is obviously important. So we were very pleased to add an accomplished pianist to the Dirty Works team. Now if only we can fill out the cast!

Regarding Julianne’s play, everything seems to be going well. We did not stay for rehearsal, but the set is looking good. Julianne showed us the latest addition, two doors stage left.

“This one opens in now,” she said, demonstrating. Tabby walked through the door, helping with the demonstrating. Julianne closed the door to show that the other one opened the other way.

“Tabby’s going to be scratching at the door,” Steven said.

However, while Julianne was describing the other things planned for the set, Tabby walked around behind the flats and emerged from the open door on stage right, looking extremely pleased with herself.

I suppose by now my readers are divided into two camps. Some of you are smiling and saying, “Oh, what an adorable dog.” Others are shaking their heads saying, “That dog should have stayed quietly at heel or on the leash. Or at home. Sniffing the piano keys, indeed!” Do I really have any readers who would say that?

Steven even contemplated giving Tabby a role in Dirty Work at the Crossroads. I play Mrs. Asterbilt, a fabulously rich society matron. Wouldn’t it be appropriate for me to have a French poodle? Tabby is only half poodle, but she could act, couldn’t she? I would call her “Tabitha” in the play, which is her real name anyways. Our only worry is that during my big dramatic scene, Tabby would leap to my defense with a crescendo of barking. Well, a life in theatre isn’t for every dog.

For more information on production dates and times for The Crazy Times and Dirty Work at the Crossroads, go to www.ilionlittletheatre.org or the Ilion Little Theatre Club Facebook page. If you are interested in piano lessons from Julianne, visit the Julie’s Music Facebook page.

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More Vegetarian Zombies

Posted on February 20, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert! I don’t know why I bother with these Spoiler Alerts. Real movie reviewers never do. Then again, I think it’s clear I’m not a real reviewer. You probably didn’t need a Spoiler Alert to tell you that.

I was thinking of Monster Movie Monday when I watched King of the Zombies (1941) on Steven’s collection of 50 Horror Classics (so I missed it by a day). Speaking of spoiler alerts, the blurb in the booklet that comes with the collection tells you almost everything. I should have known better than to read it. Really, the word “zombies” in the title tells me everything I needed to know.

The movie opens on three guys on a plane about to make an emergency landing on — what else? — a mysterious, uncharted island. They seem to be getting some radio transmission from the island but they can’t understand it. This makes them hopeful (radio transmission) rather than suspicious (can’t understand it). Of course, the characters don’t know they’re in a monster movie. That kind of ironic pose did not happen in movies till much later (although I do seem to remember Heckle and Jeckle knowing they are cartoon characters. Does that count?) (But I digress).

The three guys are the pilot, a jaunty Irishman; the purported hero; and his valet, a black man. I guess they referred to African Americans as “colored” at this time.

It is no secret that movies of this era reflect the racism rampant in the country at that time. When black people got parts in movies they were usually servants or natives. They sometimes got to sing songs. They sometimes got to act really scared. They were often the comic relief. In this movie, the valet gets to act scared, provides comic relief and is easily the most interesting character in the picture.

The proprietor of the island assures the three that he has no radio, although he is happy to welcome them as his guests. He has a catatonic wife, a beautiful niece and an extremely creepy butler. The Valet is not best pleased when the bad guy (oh you knew he was the bad guy as soon as I mentioned him; I’m not going to keep calling him the proprietor for the rest of the post) sends him off with the creepy butler to the servants’ quarters.

Things look up for Valet when he meets a pretty maid in the kitchen. They take a turn for the worse when she warns him of zombies — dead people who walk. Oh, there’s also an old witch-doctor-looking woman brewing something in a pot.

A lot of time is wasted with Valet seeing zombies and his boss and the pilot not believing him. Not a whole lot is done with the catatonic wife and beautiful niece (it’s the wife’s niece; she’s only related to the Bad Guy by marriage, in case anybody was worried).

That was actually OK with me, because Valet and Pretty Maid were my favorite characters anyways. The Irish Pilot was pretty cool, too, but he didn’t really have enough to do, except die and get made into a zombie. Oops. Well, that’s why I put in the Spoiler Alert.

The zombies in this picture, once again, are not flesh-eating monsters. In fact, Pretty Maid serves them up some stew-looking stuff that is apparently pretty bland. She realizes Valet has not in fact become a zombie when he asks for salt. Apparently zombies can’t eat salt (high blood pressure in the undead? News to me, but, whatever). She puts too much on just to be sure, so I don’t think the poor guy gets any dinner.

I kind of stopped paying attention by the end. I seem to think the zombies revolted; in fact, I remember reading that on the blurb. As in Revolt of the Zombies, it’s not such a much.

I feel I should mention that I watched this movie almost two weeks ago and have been having trouble with the write-up. In these not-as-post-racial-as-one-would-hope times, I hesitated over my description of the black characters. Then I thought maybe I could write a whole blog post thrashing out my dilemma. Before I wrote that post, I re-read my draft of this one and thought, “Hmmm, it’s not so bad. Maybe I’ll publish it after all.”

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And I’m Still Mad About the Dog

Posted on February 19, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert: I am pretty much going to recount most of the plot of today’s movie. I feel no qualms of conscience in doing so, because the only reason to watch this movie is Lionel Barrymore’s performance and you can enjoy that in any case.

Calling Dr. Gillespie also stars Donna Reed as a young and beautiful girl about to graduate from some girls boarding school somewhere. At the beginning of the movie she is meeting her young man. Donna’s father has at last consented to their engagement (cue romantic sigh from Donna’s young, impressionable roommate).

The fiance wants to elope right away, but Donna’s father has stipulated that she must finish school first (Yay, Dad, insisting on education! I’m a little sorry we never meet that character).

“I always get my way,” says Fiance with that demure, psycho look you often see in these movies.

“Not this time,” Donna tells him gently. He immediately kills a perfectly nice dog with a rock.

What the hell! I saw the dog and had fears for its well-being, but I hoped the poor thing would make it to the second reel at least. Donna is also upset, but not as upset as me, because she does not immediately terminate the engagement. She asks advice of the understanding headmistress, who recommends a psychiatric evaluation. She calls Dr. Gillespie (Barrymore), in hopes that it can be done so discreetly that even the fiance doesn’t know about it.

Dr. Gillespie calls in a brilliant young surgeon on staff at the same hospital. This young man wants to branch out into psychiatry but has so far been denied by the head of the hospital. The two of them go to the girls school. While Dr. Gillespie holds court with a number of fascinated young girls, Brilliant Surgeon takes Donna and the Fiance for a walk and asks some questions so subtle even I didn’t know what he was getting at.

Dr. Gillespie, Donna and Brilliant Surgeon meet with Fiance’s parents and family doctor. Fiance might be a mental case, our heroes say. Nonsense, says Family Doctor. Who do you think the parents believe?

Luckily, another demonstration of Fiance’s mental imbalance soon follows. No animals are harmed, but he smashes the window of a toy store and wrecks a plane, muttering threats against Dr. Gillespie.

So Family Doctor prescribes a long rest and a trip somewhere. Fiance smiles charmingly from the bed and says he feels fine. He doesn’t remember anything about the dog or the toy plane. As soon as he’s left alone he smashes Donna Reed’s picture and escapes out the window.

In talking with Donna, Brilliant Surgeons realizes that what triggers Fiance’s episodes of madness is the sound of a train whistle. You know, I don’t think the Hollywood screenwriters involved ever took a psychiatry course in their lives. For one thing, I never herd another train whistle for the rest of the picture, but Fiance kills two random guys to get a hot car to impress a dime-a-dance girl he’s trying to make time with.

Maybe it’s just me, but isn’t that a little inconsistent? Smashing a poor dog or a shop window because you’re frustrated and hear a train whistle strikes me as a slightly different psychosis from killing people to obtain a material object. Of course, his little murder for gain in a clumsy, short-sighted act, and the police are soon after him.

Donna Reed looks out her window and screams, because the first place he heads in the school garden. Headmistress, immediately consulting via telephone with Dr. Gillespie, sends Donna to the hospital with the school chauffeur, where she will supposedly be safe. Guess where Fiance is headed.

It is a big hospital. Fiance is able to kill a doctor and steal his glasses and his identity fairly easily (we don’t find out till later the poor other doctor is dead) (and we never meet him either, which saved the producers paying another actor). My first reaction was, “Oh, great disguise. They’ll NEVER recognize you with those glasses one!” But he only runs into people who don’t know him or the dead doctor as he continues to stalk Dr. Gillespie, intent on revenge.

Donna Reed, meantime, is hiding out in Brilliant Surgeon’s office suite, which includes sleeping accommodations (she does not avail herself of the invitation to put on a hospital gown, so don’t get your hopes up) (you know who you are). How fiance figures out she’s there so he can call her is never explained, but she ends up on hand for the final confrontation.

The thing that really annoyed me was Donna’s wailing at the end, “But it wasn’t really his fault!” Three men and a dog are dead! Why are you feeling more sorry for the killer? I’m thinking she doesn’t know about the dime-a-dance girl, for one thing.

On the whole, I thought it was a pretty dumb movie. It was saved for me by Lionel Barrymore and a few of the minor characters. There are a couple of nurses he spars with, as fictional doctors and nurses tend to do. A large, kind of doofy orderly is recruited to act as his bodyguard, unbeknownst to the prickly Dr. Gillespie. I also got a few chuckles from Donna’s roommate, a budding photographer and paramour.

In closing credits they advertised another Dr. Gillespie movie. I’ll have to watch for it. I do love that Lionel Barrymore.

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Be Kind to Animals, Hollywood

Posted on February 18, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

What is it with animals coming to bad ends in movies?

I recently wrote about What’s the Matter with Helen?, in which some very beautiful white rabbits suffered at the hands of a lunatic. I watched a movie yesterday in which a perfectly nice looking dog had an even shorter and more thankless role. And now I am looking at a movie where every third or fourth scene, I hear myself saying, “Nothing bad better happen to that cat!”

So far the worst thing that happened to the cat is a lady took away the yarn he or she was playing with. I only wrote my remark about nothing bad happening in the TV Journal once, but as I continued to repeat it, I thought to myself, hey, this could be a blog topic.

Many of us get more upset when bad things happen to animals than we get when bad things happen to people, especially in the movies. After all, animals are more defenseless and often more harmless. Most of them are a good deal less annoying than some people, especially in a work of fiction.

You know, now that I’m writing this, I believe I have touched on the topic before. My defense for repeating myself is: I think it was previously a remark in passing and now it is the topic of the post. Also, it is a topic that bears repeating. Who doesn’t love cats, dogs and beautiful white rabbits (or at least one of the three)?

Hollywood, apparently.

Sometimes it is movie shorthand for a really, really bad person. Ooh, look at them, they were mean to a dog! They can’t be any good AT ALL! Just in case the viewer was looking for socially redeeming characteristics. Now we know there are none to be found.

I still don’t like it. I just don’t LIKE to see bad things happen to good animals. I don’t particularly like it when characters I like die either, but at least I can comfort myself with the thought that actors like to play death scenes. I don’t know that any animals feel the same way.

I don’t think any Hollywood screenwriters are likely to heed my words and start writing movies where all the animals live happily ever after (humans can take their chances). But I wanted to express myself. Now I’ll go back to the movie I was viewing and check out what happens to that cat.

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Saturday Shout Outs

Posted on February 17, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I must begin today’s post by repairing an omission in a previous post titled, “To Market, To Market.” I had purchased a lovely a sweet treat for Steven for Valentine’s Day but neglected to make a note of the company that made it. Imagine my delight when I found the business card in my wallet.

Allow me to recommend Tamsin’s Sweet Shop of Clinton, NY. Website http://tamsinssweetshop.wordpress.com/ (imagine my further delight to find she also blogs on WordPress). She is also on Facebook.

To continue with Saturday’s post, I think I will give another shout out to The Knight Spot in Frankfort, NY. Steven and I went there Thursday night for our Valentine’s dinner. I’m not saying it is the most romantic atmosphere in the Mohawk Valley. More of a down home, family, diner type of atmosphere. But I had conceived a craving for a patty melt earlier in the week, and The Knight Spot makes one of the best.

We had no problem getting a booth. I ordered a bottle of Yuengling Beer. Steven got coffee but also ordered a chocolate shake to go with his dinner (which The Knight Spot also does superlatively). He got an open-faced hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes, gravy over both. As I said, I got a patty melt.

The Knight Spot is located at 264 E. Main St., Frankfort, phone number 315-894-4054. They are also on Facebook.

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About That Play…

Posted on February 16, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

When we last left our hero (um, that’s me) (I went masculine as gender neutral, because I did not want to refer to myself as an illegal substance), she was about to stop writing her blog post and instead work on finishing a play she had started. OK, enough with the third person crap.

What I’m saying is, I did not write my post on breaks at work today, as I usually do. I trusted to last minute inspiration and my ability in the past to write something on the fly. Or is it off the cuff? I get my clothing metaphors confused.

It is, of course, Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. I seem to recall mentioning yesterday that we should save the half-baked philosophy about finished works for Lame Post Friday. And here we are.

I find it sad but true when I read a novel or a play or even a magazine article that is not very good: my first thought is, I could do so much better. My second thought is, well, why didn’t you? One reason the worst novel in the world can get published over my deathless prose (I don’t really think it’s deathless; I just like that expression) is that that novel GOT FINISHED.

And here is some more half-baked philosophy: one can take the above thought two ways. It could be an inspiration to write more and concentrate on finishing. Or it can be a discouraging criticism: if you haven’t finished a damn play yet, you never will, give it up now!

Well, which way did you think I was going to take it? You know I like to keep my blog positive! So I spent my time before I had to start working and my break writing my play. Unfortunately, I dare not tell you anything about it, because it is a work in progress. It’s not that I fear my gentle readers will steal my ideas, but I do fear “helpful” criticism (and I am certain MY readers would never offer any other kind). More to the point, I fear that having talked about the play, I will no longer feel the need to write it. I told the story, it’s done. It can happen.

In fact, I think I’d better shut up now.

Happy Friday, everyone.

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Whatever Happened to Playwright Steve?

Posted on February 15, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Writing about What’s the Matter with Helen? and mentioning Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and the re-titled Whatever Happened to Cousin Charlotte? (remember, it became Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte) made me think about my husband Steven’s foray into thriller writing.

This happened when Steven was in junior high, well before he knew me and even well before I developed a taste (not to say obsession) for cheesy horror movies. And a quick disclaimer, I am laughing WITH my husband, not AT him. Indeed, I hope I poke good-natured fun at most of the movies I write about (except when I am taking them to task for spurious views on romance, like The Virgin Queen).

But I digress (well, why not digress on Non-Sequitur Thursday?). Getting on with the post, let us consider my husband’s play, What Happened to Millicent?

Steven had perhaps heard of Baby Jane and Sweet Charlotte, but had not seen them, and I don’t think Helen had even been made yet. Therefore no accusations of plagiarism can be leveled against him (unlike some of the plot points for some of the stories I wrote as a child and adolescent, but we’re not talking about me).

I think it’s pretty obvious that Steven had seen more television and movies than plays, because most of the scenes are about two minutes long and the set changes are quite elaborate. I don’t recall the whole plot, but Millicent disappears on the way to a dance. I think you hear a scream from behind a big rock.

In a later scene, Millicent’s sister Beverly is accused of doing away with Millicent. She immediately commits suicide, distraught at the accusation. We, the audience, know that Beverly is innocent, because we see her go behind the rock AFTER we hear the scream. Beverly sees her dead sister, screams, runs home and tells nobody. And apparently nobody else ever finds the body.

In the end (which I don’t scruple to tell you, since I doubt you will ever have an opportunity to read or see the play), we never find out what happens to Millicent. I believe it ends with a voice-over of the dead sister saying, “And whatever did happen to Millicent? No one will ever know.”

The play got a staged reading by some of Steven’s friends at a high school graduation party. They read it typos and all (the script had been hunt-and-pecked on a manual Smith Corona, just to inject a little history). The most notable of these was when one character threatened another with “Or eles!”

I must admit, Steven’s script had one quality that most of my efforts at novel and play writing have lacked: it was finished. That thought makes me want to leave this post unfinished and rush to finish the last play I was working on. Ironic, you say? I say, let’s save the half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday.

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To Market, To Market

Posted on February 14, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I have been meaning to expand my farmers’ market horizons beyond my beloved Clapsaddle Farm in Ilion, NY. Saturday I finally made my way to the Oneida County Public Market at Union Station in Utica.

The market is worth checking out for the location alone. Union Station is one of Utica’s architectural treasures, a magnificent brick building. The large main room (waiting area for trains and buses) has a high ceiling, marble floor, enormous columns and build in wooden benches. Yes, this would be another post where it would have been nice if I had a digital camera and knew how to post pictures. One more thing to work on in the coming year.

One of my favorite things at farmers’ markets (and the supermarket, for that matter) is when they offer free samples. My problem is I try it, I like it, I want to buy it. With EVERYTHING! Also I feel a little guilty taking something from these small vendors and not purchasing anything.

First I tried some sweets and immediately purchased one for Steven. It was his Valentine’s Day present, but I could not resist giving it to him right away, so I do not scruple to mention it here. Unfortunately I did not make a note of the business name or pick up a card. Too bad, because I would totally recommend it.

The Stoltzfus Family Dairy guy offered a number of cheese, cheese curds and yogurt samples. I told him I had seen his stuff at the Ilion Farmers’ Market, and he agreed that was another good market. He sent me away with a sample of vanilla yogurt and a spoon, so I could continue to sample as I perused other vendors.

I admired some dog treats from Redmond’s Red Deer Farm and bird houses made from gourds by Janice Wnuk, the Garden Mentor. I sampled local honey from Bardwell Farms and gluten-free baked goods from Rosemont Inn Baking Company. The baking company people also run a bed and breakfast in Utica. That might be a nice place for a romantic night with my husband. I took business cards from anybody who had one.

I chatted up my friend Tom from Three Village Cheese Company. It was due to Three Village that I went to the farmers’ market. they had posted on their Facebook page that they would be there, and I said, “Ooh, there’s a thought.” He asked if I was still blogging.

“Oh yes, every day,” I said. I told him that was one reason I was happy to be there, as the blog had been thin on community events lately.

I purchased some cheese that utilized beer in the making. I foolishly did not make note of the name and I have since thrown away the package (of course I opened it almost as soon as I got home; what else?). Then I want back to the Stoltzfus table and got some vanilla yogurt, which I also started eating soon after I got it home.

I was all pleased with myself for driving ten (or so) miles down the road to a different farmers’ market. And Steven was pleased with his Valentine treat. My only regret was that I couldn’t bring my schnoodle, Tabby. Perhaps I’ll take her on a visit to Clapsaddle Farm soon.

The Oneida County Market runs from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. March 9 and April 13. Weekly markets begin May 18. For more information, visit their website at http://www.oneidacountymarket.com/

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