Why can’t the gods ever target, say, Dallas like this?

I’m not sure what Cleveland did recently to so annoy the Gods, but yeesh. Getting shafted on national teevee by Lebron James was bad, but the passing of Harvey Pekar? That’s just mean, Governors of the Universe.

I read Pekar’s graphic novel The Quitter last year and posted about it here. At the moment I actually have Pekar’s graphic adaptation of Studs Terkel’s Working out of the library right now, although I haven’t started it yet. I’m a new admirer of Pekar’s, and I’m saddened to know that he won’t be producing anything more.

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Monday Mayhem

Monday Mayhem is not unlike Sunday Stealing, in that it provides quizzes for bloggers on a weekly basis. I figured I’d do one of them:

1. Lindsay Lohan was recently sentenced to 90 days in jail. What do you think her future has in store for her?

Jail time.

2. What is the biggest fashion “don’t” that you would like to police?

I don’t believe in fashion “don’t”s. I’ve long come to the belief that virtually all of fashion consists of some folks somewhere deciding arbitrarily what’s “in” and what’s “out”. I have no time for that crap, at all.

3. How should we punish sites that lure us in with “read this” and take us somewhere where we are first greeted by a pop-up and then a series of click throughs to actually read the meat of the story?

They should be beaten with tire irons.

4. What is the most you will do to post a comment on a site? At what point is it not worth posting a comment?

I don’t comment enough on my favorite blogs, but I’ve been trying to do so more often.

5. If you purchase something online and you are charged for postage, is it still reasonable to charge for “shipping and handling”? What exactly does “shipping and handling” entail?

Well, it’s not just postage. There’s the cost of the box and the cost of the time and effort to get the thing packed and, if it’s just you by yourself, getting the thing to the post office. When I ship stuff I sell via eBay, I tend to charge a dollar or so more than what I figure the postage will be. (Or, at least I used to, before eBay decided to mandate certain shipping charges, which I find annoying.)

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Sentential Links #212

Linkage….

:: Thanks for helping me rehearse for my next grand jury appearance.

:: I am a middle aged, doughy white man. At 80 years old Ernie is thinner, far more fit and much more energetic than I will ever be. He also has more hair on his head.

:: One of the things most people don’t realize about cows is that they are extremely crafty What I mean is, they are much smarter than one might think. Case in point: Fences.

:: Jennifer Tilly is one of my best friends. No, we’ve never met, but I know it. Deep down I am sure she and I would be buddies. She’s funny and quirky, sexy as hell, and has a cartoon voice. What else do you need?

:: I love the rain, it hides all these tears.

:: I’m sure you all remember the excitement that led up to January 1, 2000! Today’s story, written 43 years before, predicts all sorts of amazing things, including a future in which pedantic trolls don’t go around saying, “Um, actually the new century doesn’t start until 2001.”

:: I am the kind of guy that loves new food products. If I see a commercial for some new cheez-it flavor or something, I have to try it. I am a sucker when I go into the grocery store and see ‘NEW’ on any product in big bold letters just teasing me. This is especially true for the cookie, cracker, chip or candy aisle. My ultimate weakness is a new flavor of Doritos, I have to have them.

More next week!

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Sunday Burst of Weird and AWESOME!

Oddities and Awesome abound!

:: What a cool blog! It’s a food blog that focuses on food and history. Lots of recipes paired with historical information, and it’s cool to scroll down the blog and read the bits of food history that happened under each American President. Here, for example, is a list of provisions called for at the Second Inaugural of President Ulysses S. Grant:

Among other provisions were 10,000 fried oysters; 63 boned turkeys; 150 capons stuffed with truffles; 15 saddles of mutton; 200 dozen quails; 200 hams; 250 chickens; 400 partridges; 25 stuffed boar’s heads; 3,000 head cheese sandwiches; 2,000 ham sandwiches; 8,000 pickled oysters and 2,000 pounds of lobster.

Sounds like a hell of a party, right? Go over there and read about how the party went!

:: Want to see ladies in bikinis reading lines from Star Wars IV: A New Hope? Sure you do!

:: When I was in grade school, there was a series of educational films that we’d watch in class on occasion. They were called “the Hot Dog movies”, and they were short films on various subjects. They used a lot of goofy humor, and they included appearances by Woody Allen and Joanne Whorley. Apparently these films ran on teevee sometime in the early 1970s, but I saw them in class in third and fourth grade. One of the only ones that I really remember dealt with US paper currency, and as luck would have it, that’s the only Hot Dog film I’ve been able to find on YouTube. Here it is. I just think this is pretty cool!

Anybody else ever watch these?

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Meme of Many Odd Questions

From Sunday Stealing:

1. First thing you wash in the shower?

My hair.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?

My three tie-dyed hoodies, actually — green, purple and red and blue.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I hope so, since I married her!

4. Do you plan outfits?

Not any farther than, “Hey, haven’t worn this in a while.”

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?

Kinda nappy, actually. I think I’ll take a nap. (I’m writing this late afternoon Saturday.)

6. What’s the closest thing to you that’s red?

My pocket knife, sitting on the desk.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?

Can’t remember any right now. My memories of dreams fade very quickly.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?

Not by name, but there were lots of strangers at Taste of Buffalo.

9. What are you craving right now?

Pizza. I’ll probably buy one for dinner.

10. Do you floss?

Absolutely.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?

Corned beef?

12. Are you emotional?

Yes. And no.

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?

Nope. I’ve started as a getting-to-sleep measure, but never gotten there.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?

I alternate between both.

15. Do you like your hair?

Sure!

16. Do you like yourself?

Most times. Sometimes I gotta get away from myself, though.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?

If he’s buying, maybe. I’d be faking the niceties, though.

18. What are you listening to right now?

Nothing.

19. Are your parents strict?

Since I’m 38 and haven’t lived at home for quite a few years, I’m going to say, Not really.

20. Would you go sky diving?

Maybe….

21. Do you like cottage cheese?

It’s OK. I used to hate it, and now I don’t. But I don’t adore it, either. It’s good and I should eat it more often.

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?

Nope.

Short quiz….

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The point left a contrail above his head

Matthew Yglesias has been one of my favorite bloggers for years, but in commenting today on Lebron James, he misses the point about as badly as a point can be missed.

I’m all for rooting against the new look Heat, but it is worth saying that a lot of the anti-LeBron commentary of the past couple of days bespeaks a major anti-labor bias in our popular culture. The guy had an offer from one employer and a competing offer from another employer—he took the offer he preferred. Is that really so terrible? Does he really have a moral obligation to work for Dan Gilbert’s for-profit firm indefinitely? Would you like to be told that if you get offered a better job, it’s unethical for you to accept it? I wouldn’t.

Look. This stuff doesn’t happen in a vacuum, and we’re not talking about, say, a District Manager for Fed-Ex going to work as a District Manager for UPS. There’s a lot more at work here than an employee simply deciding to take a new job.

Mega-star sports figures who command salaries in the stratospheres of their sports simply aren’t comparable, as employees, to people like Matt Yglesias, who work in a cubicle farm writing blog posts all day. These kinds of sports figures become identifiable parts of their communities in ways that the vast, vast, vast majority of employees in this country never even come close to being. That being the case, moral questions regarding James’s departure can, and do, and ought to, come into play.

Besides, no one is saying that James had a moral obligation to stay in Cleveland. In this day and age, no one would really suggest that, and when a great and beloved athlete manages to stay with one team for an entire career, it’s viewed as (a) an anomaly, and (b) something of an equal effort on the part of the player and the ownership. Most times a player in that case will voluntarily forego a larger offer or two over the course of their career, if they think the situation they’re already in is a pretty good one. The claim can be made that the morally preferable course would have been for James to stay in Cleveland, but nobody thinks he was obliged to do so.

The criticism, as far as I can see it, focuses on a number of issues surrounding James’s decision to leave. There was the callous manner in which he did it, stringing Cleveland along so they couldn’t get a jump-start on a post-Lebron era until after the Draft and once free agency was already in full swing; there was the way he pretty much treated the fans of that city as if they were disposable; there was the way he pretty much structured the entire episode so as to stroke his own ego.

It all reminded me of a scene in the movie Nixon. Late in the film, when Watergate is starting to bring the administration down, Nixon holds a press conference to make some sort of announcement. To that point, when he’s announced stuff, the entire room has always erupted into applause, but at this event, he makes his announcement, steps back to receive the applause…and only his aides are applauding. Everyone else is just sitting there. That’s what the Lebron James fiasco has looked like. He constructed this entire thing utterly convinced that everyone sees him as a hero, and now he seems a bit shocked that almost nobody actually does. (Give the Miami fans some time, when his teams start accumulating 55-win seasons and second-round playoff exits.)

Players can, and do, leave their original teams all the time. But when they do, it’s generally for one of the following reasons:

1. They are significantly underpaid in their original market, and they are unlikely to come anywhere near their market value there.

2. They want desperately to win, and their current market seems unlikely to do so any time in the foreseeable future.

3. Team management decides to allow the player to leave, under the belief that they may be better equipped to win without the player or by replacing him at the position he plays.

4. The chemistry of their current team is unpleasant to the point that they want to play someplace else.

There are others, but those are the big ones that I generally see bandied about when players leave one team for another. And as far as I can tell, none of these really apply to Lebron James in Cleveland. They were prepared to pay him as massively as anyone else was; they’ve been a very good team in recent years; and…well, I can’t really speak to the third point. But I haven’t read anything about the Cav’s locker room being a hotbed of miscontent.

James’s willingness to leave Cleveland was clearly not motivated by money, and if James thinks he’s going to a more winning-conducive environment in Miami, everything I’ve read indicates that he’s likely mistaken. As for the last, well…maybe I’m wrong, but basketball has always struck me as the most prima donna-ridden of sports, and the Miami locker room will now have three prima donnas within it. If they don’t win, look for things to deteriorate quickly, and heck, it might happen anyway if they do win. Lots of winning teams end up falling apart not because they get bad again, but because their chemistry can’t be maintained.

Ultimately, what it comes down to is that no one thinks that Lebron James had a moral obligation to stay in Cleveland. Most folks, though, think that he had a moral obligation to not be a dick. And by any reasonable standards of dickishness, Lebron James was a dick of epic proportions.

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Good eatin’!

Wow, it’s been a while since I did a food post here, hasn’t it? So here’s a round-up of some recent(ish) meals at Casa Jaquandor!

:: Grilled bratwurst. Yum. Not much to say here, just…grilled bratwurst! Yum!

Brats, finished

I heart sausages of all types, and bratwurst may be my favorite. It’s just wonderful stuff. The trick is to get them off the grill at the exact moment the last little bit of pink in the middle has faded. It’s an art form, it is!

:: A while back I posted about Chiavetta’s chicken marinade, a staple of barbecue here in Western New York. At that time, it was still cold out, so I did the chicken in the oven. Well, I figured I should revisit Chiavetta’s, in the preferred cooking method: over charcoal. So here it is. The steps are the same: Marinade for a long time, and then grill until done. Once the chicken is done, the instructions say to put the chicken into a pan on the grill and then heavily baste it with more of the sauce, allowing the flavor to permeate the chicken via steaming (or something like that).

Here’s the chicken on the grill:

Chiavetta's II

And here’s the chicken on the table:

Chiavetta's III

:: I love a homemade pizza, but I’m kind of ashamed to admit that when I do the job, it’s not really homemade, as I’ve always used store-bought dough and sauce from a jar. Well, I decided that enough was enough on that score, so I made a pizza entirely from scratch a while back: my own dough and my own sauce, topped with cheese I grated and pepperoni and sausage made from a pig that I killed and butchered.

OK, that last part is a complete lie; my pepperoni and sausage came in packages. Do I look like the kind of fellow who could slay a pig? Of course not. Yeesh. But I did do the other stuff. Now I’ll probably experiment more with other crust and sauce recipes. Here’s how the finished product turned out:

Pizza from scratch

Pizza close-up

It was really good. The dough recipe I used is an old one we’ve had around for a while that we got from Cooking Light Magazine — oh Cooking Light, how we miss the days when you weren’t a cheaply-done production! — and the sauce recipe I used is this one. The cheese and pepperoni are straight-forward; I just grated my own part-skim mozzarella. For the sausage, I cooked up three large links of Italian sausage and then cut them up into large chunks. My firm belief regarding sausage on pizza is that the chunks need to be big.

:: OK, let’s talk burgers.

I tend to be a bit on the lazy side when it comes to burgers at home. The Wife generally keeps us stocked up on frozen burgers that she gets from The Restaurant at which she works (don’t worry, she pays for them!), and that’s usually OK for me. Other times I’ll pick up pre-formed fresh ground beef patties at The Store, some of which they flavor with stuff. They have a Greek burger with feta cheese mixed right into the beef that’s terrific, as are the basic bacon-cheddar ones (with bacon pieces and shredded cheddar also mixed into the patties).

But every once in a while I want to taste the burgery-goodness flavor that you can really only get by grilling your own hand-made patties, so that’s what I did a couple of weeks back. I picked up a package of ground beef that was roughly 1.4 pounds and divided it up into three patties of such equal size as I could make, for three 7-point-something oz. burger patties. I added nothing to the beef at all — just the meat, although when the patties were shaped, I seasoned them on both sides with salt and pepper. (As Emeril Lagasse used to say on his shows, “I hate one-sided tasting food.”)

Burgers I

Then it was onto the grill!

Burgers II

Cooking burgers on the grill is about as easy as cooking something can be; all you have to do is keep an eye on things and spritz the flare-ups with water when they get out of hand. Every article or teevee show I’ve ever read or watched on the proper cooking of burgers gives the same two pieces of advice, and I agree whole-heartedly. Those pieces of advice are:

1. Flip the burgers exactly once.

2. Do NOT press down on the burgers with your spatula in hopes of making them cook faster.

Burgers III

Those rules are for your benefit, folks!

Oh, and the third rule: let the burgers rest a few minutes before allowing consumption.

Burgers IV

Yeah, one of them turned out a bit bigger than the other two. Beef portioning FAIL!

When I do the frozen patty thing, I’m generally happy to throw the burger onto a bun, top it with ketchup and mustard, and call it good. But a patty like this deserves a bit more by way of stuff on the bun along with it, so here’s how my final burger ended up before I tucked into it. The only thing missing was a slice of fresh tomato. (Because when I was shopping, I didn’t think to grab a tomato. Argghhh!)

Burgers V

:: By the way, as long as I’m talking about burgers, I had a brief discussion of this topic on Facebook and since I’m talking food and burgers here, I’ll bring it up. There’s a new fad in the burger world, but I must protest the nomenclature thereof. What am I talking about?

I hate hate hate the term “sliders”.

Sliders, for those who haven’t had this craze hit them yet, are basically miniature burgers. They’re only about three inches in diameter, so consuming one takes about three or four bites. I’m not sure what the allure of these things is or why they’re so popular right now, but as I understand it, the term originated with the White Castle fast food chain, which sells tiny little burgers in packages of ten or something like that. (We don’t have White Castle in WNY, so I’ve never actually eaten one.)

I’m a bit baffled on the concept of miniature burgers to begin with, except for the idea that it might be a nice way to experience different mixes of condiments on one’s meal of burgery goodness at one time, but that notion is of limited appeal to me, anyway. Maybe for novelty’s sake it might be fun to have one little burger with ketchup and mustard, another with mayonnaise and onions, and a third with chili sauce, but…i’m just not that thrilled with the idea. For me, miniature burgers is probably a good thing to have for a kids’ birthday party, but that’s about it.

As much as I don’t understand why these little burgers have become so popular right now, I do admit that I loathe the term “slider”. Can’t stand it. It’s just an unpleasant sounding word for a food item. To be blunt, it sounds like a word one might use to describe an unwelcome experience one has with one’s bowels. “Sliders” to me sounds like another word for “Montezuma’s Revenge”, if you take my meaning. Hate the term. Hate it. I’d find the whole concept if they called it something else — miniwiches, perhaps. Or maybe teenyburgs. Or burgertwee’s. Or maybe we could honor some height-challenged celebrities or chracters and call them Colemans, or Tattoos, or Artooburgs.

Anything other than that awful word, “slider”.

And now, I’m off for the annual Taste of Buffalo food festival. Huzzah!

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DUZ!


Duz 1946, originally uploaded by autumnsensation.

I saw this ad on Flickr and it cracked me up. I’d never heard of “DUZ” before; obviously its heyday as a product was well before my time. I found the picture funny, though, because of that guy strutting around in the overalls, without a shirt underneath. I mean, I know they’re comfy and they keep most everything covered, but you still gotta wear a shirt under those things. And a bowler hat? Huh? And that’s a Sunday outfit?!

In fact, fans of Firefly might think, as I did, that this guy looks a bit like Badger, the bowler-hat wearing small-time crook on Persephone who aspires to being a less small-time crook.

Anyway, I wish I could still find DUZ on the shelves, because by all appearances, DUZ did everything!

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A news headline I’d like to see

TONYA HARDING WHACKS LEBRON JAMES ON THE KNEE

JAMES OUT FOR SEASON, CAREER IN JEOPARDY

CLEVELAND GIVES HARDING KEY TO CITY

You know, I’ve seen a lot of athletes do asshole things. I’ve seen Barry Bonds and Rafael Palmeiro stonewall that they didn’t do steroids. I’ve seen Mark McGwire go to Congress and say, “I’m not here to talk about the past.” I’ve seen Pete Rose refuse to admit he gambled. I’ve seen Brett Favre’s insanely annoying “Will I play or won’t I?” nonsense every year for the last, oh, eighteen years or so. And it goes the other way, too, into ownership and management. I’ve seen the Buffalo Sabres completely bungle their efforts to hold onto their star players. I’ve seen the Bills release Thurman Thomas and Andre Reed without calling them first. I’ve seen Dan Snyder throw money at every player with a pulse, I’ve seen Jerry Jones decide that he just can’t live with the coach who had just won him two Super Bowls, I’ve seen Art Modell move the Browns without warning, I’ve seen the Irsay family do the same thing with the Colts. And I’ve read about collusion, union busting, racism, hard drinking, drug abuse, sexual harassment, and even murder.

But damned if Lebron James didn’t manage to put a unique spin on what he did. He may not be the biggest asshole in sports history, but in the words of sports talk radio hosts who do “Is [Name] the [biggest/best/greatest/worst/etc.] in sports history” topics, Lebron has “got to be in the conversation”.

I just can’t believe this all unfolded the way it did. I can’t believe that Lebron James was almost literally holding court for prospective NBA owners. I can’t believe he decided to announce his decision on a prime-time teevee special. I can’t believe ESPN went along with it. And I can’t believe that Lebron James didn’t even have the decency to tell the Cleveland Cavaliers what his decision was before he announced it to everyone else.

I’ve heard some people defending James on various unconvincing bases. I’ve heard the “It’s a free country!” defense, as if the fact that it’s not illegal to be an asshole somehow renders it OK to be an asshole. Then there are folks scoffing at the idea that Cleveland fans should be upset at all; “He doesn’t owe Cleveland anything!” goes the refrain here.

But in my view, he owes Cleveland a great deal. He’s lived in that region his entire life, and he got to play for his hometown fans. He helped make that team into one of the best in the NBA, even if they didn’t win a championship. I find the defenses of James very odd, because they come from people who will almost certainly sing Kobe Bryant’s praises, when he eventually retires, for having played his entire career with one team.

James’s behavior through this entire annoying ordeal has displayed some of the most breathtaking narcissism I’ve ever seen by a public figure. It really was astonishing to behold. I find his reasons, his excuses, nonsensical — “It’s about winning”, he says, even though his Cleveland teams have been among the best in the NBA. It’s not as if he’s just made his dramatic escape from the LA Clippers. And while I am no expert on the NBA, people who are seem to be less than convinced that a juggernaut of multiple titles has just been forged in Miami, because so much of the Heat’s space under the NBA salary cap will be devoted to just three players that the team is unlikely to be able to really fill out their roster with the kinds of non-superstar, but still excellent, talent that championship clubs in all sports need.

Lebron James did owe Cleveland something. He owed them respect and honesty. He gave them neither. I hope he never wins a title at all — which is a result that has a lot more chance of happening than some might believe — and if he comes down on the court at an awkward angle and his ACL just happens to rip asunder in the first five minutes of his first regular season in front of his new beloved fans, well, I won’t feel a lot of sympathy for him.

A few links: Jason Whitlock of FOX Sports; Ethan Sherwood Strauss of Salon.com; Mr. Trend at Alterdestiny.

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Something for Thursday

I’ve long had something of a love-hate relationship with Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Phantom of the Opera.

The show came out sometime in the late 1980s, and ten years would pass before I’d see it on stage myself. But for a time, the songs of Phantom were…how to put this…ubiquitous. That music was everywhere, and after a short while, I was Phantom‘d out.

Late in my senior year of high school, an amateur chorus in a neighboring town was looking for brass players for a concert they were doing…of Phantom songs. Then, at my summer music camp, we played an arrangement of Phantom‘s songs in the band, and then the very next year, in the chorus, we did a choral arrangement of the same Phantom songs. In college, my orchestra did yet another arrangement of Phantom songs.

Every year, my college had a music competition/festival thing in which high school students from all over Iowa and vicinity would come to play with college musicians and compete for scholarships. Those students vying for vocal scholarships would perform solos at the main concert. One year, no fewer than three young baritones did “The Music of the Night”.

And nearly every student at school had Phantom in their CD collections. Most had the single-disc “highlights” record, but the hard-cores had the “Complete show” double-CD edition. And you’d often hear those discs blasting out windows and open doors, during that pounding motif on the organ — you know the one — that practically demanded to be played at Max Volume.

For two to three years of my life, it was Phantom, Phantom, Phantom. I got sick of the whole damned thing without ever seeing it. (And I wasn’t disposed to dislike Andrew Lloyd Webber on principle, either — I’d seen Cats with my family and loved it.)

Phantom fever finally died off a bit, as all things do, and I pretty much forgot about it, until 1999, when Shea’s Buffalo Theater underwent some major refurbishment, the focus of which was expanding the stage so the theater could host the major touring productions of the day. This meant that Phantom of the Opera could finally play in Buffalo. Naturally, The Wife and I went. It was May 18, 1999; I remember that date because the next day we went to see Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace on its opening day. We’ve always referred to that as “Phantom Weekend” ever since.

Seeing the show was quite the production, and it was nice to at last hear all those songs I’d been sick of for years in their proper context, as well as others that I did not know so well. In 2004, a movie version came out, and as I recall, it was reviewed pretty harshly, and we didn’t see it — until last week, that is, when I saw the DVD at the library and thought, “Well, why not? How bad can it be?”

And it turned out, not very bad at all. In fact, I thought it a fine production overall, well-sung and well-acted. The voice of Gerard Butler, who played the Phantom himself, took a small bit of getting used to, but I thought he was generally excellent, and the film puts the gorgeous spectacle of the stage show front and center, with lots of sweeping camera shots through that magnificent Parisian opera house. (Although I did think that the Phantom’s lair, deep in the sewers and catacombs beneath the Opera, looked a bit too clean.) What was really cool, though, was the degree to which The Daughter loved the movie. She’s watched it a couple additional times since, asked me to track down the music for her MP3 player, and, when she thinks no one is listening, she’s been singing songs from the show. I find that awesome.

Anyway, as this is a Something for Thursday post, I need to put something musical here, to wrap up. I know that Michael Crawford is generally seen as the canonical Phantom, but I always found something slightly “off” about his voice, so I’ve never had the problem of comparing Phantoms to Crawford in my head. Colm Wilkinson’s voice is much more to my liking, and it’s his I’ll feature now. Here’s Colm Wilkinson, singing “The Music of the Night”.

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The official site of Kelly Sedinger: Reader, writer, photographer, and dreamer

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