pheloniusfriar: (Default)
Because this is an amazing opportunity... and they don't, like, tell anyone (they are not good at promotion it seems)... if you are in the Ottawa, Ontario area, this is at the Canada Aviation and Space Museum:

Girls' Day at the Airport and Museum!

On Saturday March 8, the Rockcliffe Flying Club, the Eastern Ontario Chapter of the Ninety-Nines [their web site sucks and is out of date] and the Canada Aviation and Space Museum welcome girls and women to the Rockcliffe Airport!

Saturday, March 8 from 9:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. (Rain Date Sunday, March 9)

The Eastern Ontario Chapter of the Ninety-Nines and the Rockcliffe Flying Club will provide free flights to girls and women who have never flown in a small airplane!
pheloniusfriar: (Default)
Why did they do it? Because they could... oh, and it's Japan... that's a big part I'm sure.

pheloniusfriar: (Default)
It's always sad when you have to come down on one of your kids for their behaviour... Beep had a friend over and they and Happy were watching music videos. I walked through the room a few times hoping that I wouldn't have to say anything, but eventually I couldn't take it anymore and had to tell Beep that if she was going to be playing music like that, that she would have to turn it the fuck up because it was playing far too quietly. Sheesh... some people's kids...

Oh, another very important thing that happened last week, that I forgot to mention in my previous omnibus post, was I went flying again last Tuesday. It had been quite a while since the last time I went up, but I had been insanely busy and couldn't find the time to prepare for it or the sleep to do well at it (a very sad statement indeed, but at least I'm ferociously conscientious). It really looked like I wasn't going to be able to fly that day though due to the weather. As I was driving to the airport, the clouds were looking lower and lower and meaner and meaner. A half hour before my flight was scheduled, the clouds were at 800 feet and continuing to drop and the weather report said it would clear up, but only after my flight was due to end. But... lo and behold, things started clearing up much faster than predicted, and by the time I had inspected the aircraft (pre-flight), the flight was definitely a go!

The clouds were broken (BKN) and their bases were around 2500 feet, so some of the upper air work I had expected to do was not going to happen (but we'd done a lot the previous time anyway, so it wasn't too big a deal). Instead, we went out to the practice area (the Breckenridge and Luskville area on the Quebec side of the river) and did forced landings. This involves the instructor randomly reaching out and pulling the throttle back to idle and stating "tut tut, you seem to have lost your engine, what do you intend to do now?" (the engine isn't actually stopped, it's idling, but the aircraft is pretty much a glider at that point). What to do? First and foremost: aviate... fly the plane! This involves establishing a glide that will give the least altitude drop for a given horizontal distance (keeps the plane in the air as long as possible), turn on the carburator heat (if the carburator was iced up, the engine heat will decrease quickly so doing that immediately might let the engine start again on its own if that was the problem), and trim the aircraft for the "best glide" speed mentioned above so you don't have to keep pulling on the control yoke (or stick) and can focus on everything else you need to do next. Next? Figure out where you're going to land on the presumption you aren't going to be able to restart the engine (this is a truly terrifying thing to contemplate while night flying... just sayin'), and then plan the approach you want to make to the chosen landing site (usually a farmer's field if there are any, or a road if there are no fields, or a lake if there are no roads, or a nice cushy mountainside if there are no lakes, errrrr... forget I said that). In this case, there were lots of farmer's fields, so I picked what looked like a good one and started to [the next step] navigate to it (remembering, it's a glider I'm suddenly flying). One of the big tricks is figuring out what the wind direction is... we were by the Ottawa river, so we could see that the wind was coming from the west because there were calm areas on the west side of bays and whatnot and the water got choppy past that. Once the field was picked and if there is enough time (usually a minute or two depending on the starting height and the distance to the field), troubleshooting the cause can then be performed: make sure the fuel is on and the tanks read that there is fuel in them, make sure the master switch for the magnetos is on [try the left then the right instead of having it on both to see if that makes any difference], make sure the fuel mixture is all the way "rich", and make sure the fuel primer hasn't rattled loose during the flight and flooded the engine with fuel. If the engine doesn't restart and there is still time, make a distress call (mayday) with as much information as you can give about the situation, the aircraft identification and type and markings, how many people are on board, and where you are going to try to land. Then... turn to your passenger (who has been calmly waiting for instructions, of course) and give them a final briefing: remove glasses and anything pointy and secure them somehow, push the seat all the way back, make sure the seatbelts are secure, and open up the door a crack in case the aircraft frame bends on landing so it doesn't jam the door shut (opening the doors on these kinds of aircraft don't affect how well they fly, it's more of a psychological thing). Finally, the aircraft should be shut down and secured to prevent electrical or fuel fires on landing (fuel off, mixture in "idle cutoff" position, magnetos off, and master switch off [but only after any changes to the flap settings are done because they use an electric motor to move them]). All of that in about 60 to 90 seconds usually... it's amazing what can be accomplished in such a short time (realizing, of course, that it's what the training is supposed to accomplish).

Again, I was just practicing, so about 300 feet above the field the instructor could determine whether or not we'd make the selected landing site and would call for an "overshoot" of the field (full power, carb heat cold, flaps up in stages) so we can head back up and do it again. We did three out in the practice area: two straight approaches and one 360° circling approach (it was used in the US, so I have done them before, but is newly approved in Canada therefore flight instructors want to make sure you know how to do them since many people were never trained in them when they got their license). After nailing all of them (actually, much to my surprise) we headed back to the airport and did some "touch and go" landings. The last time I went up... as I seem to remember writing, my landings were... well... sub-optimal shall we say. Not dangerous in any way, but lacking any appreciable level of finesse. This time, I was smoooooth and my landings were where I wanted them to be, and I was much, much happier :). On the final circuit, my instructor had one more trick up his sleeve for me... just as we were about halfway along the downwind leg of the circuit (at 1000 feet above the airport altitude of 200 feet above sea level)... back goes the throttle to idle... "oh... so sad... you seem to have lost your engine in the circuit... do you think you can make the runway from here?". Ummm, ayup, no problem... I got this shit! I do a call to let any traffic know the shenanigans we were engaging in (there was nobody else around, and it's an uncontrolled airport, but it's always about safety first). I start my turn to base a little past the runway threshold because I know there is a strong headwind (with a crosswind component), so I'm going to drop very quickly once I turn to the final approach heading and line up with the runway. I bring it around and call final ("final for runway two seven, simulated engine failure, full stop")... we're a bit high and the crosswind is definitely trying to push us sideways, so I sideslip into the wind (which increases the rate of descent and compensates for the crosswind at the same time while keeping the nose of the plane straight along the runway... the other technique is to "crab" into the wind where you turn the aircraft toward the wind so the flight path is straight along the runway but the plane is facing off to the side... then you turn the plane straight just as you touch down and can use the wheels for directional control). I also added some more flaps to allow me to decrease my speed and it makes the plane drop faster too. Oh, did I mention that the instructor challenged me to "meet commercial flight standards and land within 400 feet of the designated touchdown spot" as I did it? Didn't quite do it in the 400 feet, but I was about 450 feet down (I had a bit of a float before touching down, so I that set me down a bit further along). The key is that it was a beautiful landing and I actually had fun doing it.

And... the reason why I spent all that time writing this to share, is that once down, the instructor declared me ready and able to head out on my own again... yayayayay! As long as I fly about once a month going forward, I will not need to be checked out by an instructor again for quite some time (until I actually am thinking about preparing for my commercial flight test... which is now looking like maybe next year again, sigh... this time mostly for money reasons). The big thing I need to do is rack up many, many hours doing "cross-country" flights as pilot-in-command (it's the category of hours I'm short in to have completed the requirements for a commercial license, I am pretty sure I have everything else). Oh, and what is meant by "cross-country" in this context, just means flying to another airport more than 50 nautical miles away from where I start, and landing ("full stop") before heading back (preferably after having lunch or something there, heh). It doesn't mean "flying across Canada" ;). I'll be doing a couple of solo flights by myself (just to convince myself that I'm really ready to do some cross-countries with passengers), then I'll work through the list of people that have already expressed their interest in going with me, and then I'll broaden the list from there as appropriate. As an aside, money is going to be my real issue this coming year as it looks like I am not going to have a job come September (if I end up doing my honours project, the professor I've been working for gets me for free... and, as a matter of fact, I get to pay for the privilege of working for free... such is the life of a student). All that to say that if you can share in the cost of a flight, it will increase the number of flights I'll be able to do on the resources I have to dedicate to this pursuit this coming year. I can't charge for flights, but I can certainly accept gracious donations towards the cost of the flight from friends I take up (up to 100% if you're feeling all shooga towards me). As a starving student, every bit helps :). And... just to be really, really clear... because this came up the last time I mentioned sharing costs... if I'm able to fly and I invite you along, I do not need you to contributions to the cause... I would be flying anyway and if you want to come along, it's not going to increase the cost of the flight for me to do so. Chipping in just means I'll be able to go up again sooner, or maybe plan a longer flight and continue to advance toward a commercial license. FYI, my ultimate goal is to fly into the Toronto Island airport and spend a day or night in Toronto before flying back, but that's going to cost a lot of money to do, heh, so I am leaving that as a "nice to have some day" thing.

Okay... off to solve some physics equations and then try to get to bed at a tolerable time. I have a doctor's appointment (just a check up) at 11h30, and then will be in meetings all day to hear about the ATLAS detector work being done at Carleton over the next couple of years (ATLAS is one of the major experiments at the Large Hadron Collider site), and then will be in class from 18h00 to 21h00, and then will be going out to celebrate a friend's birthday, and then will fall into a drooling coma until Wednesday...

If you want to know more about all this ATLAS stuff and Large Hadron Collider stuff, here is what I consider to be the perfect, and accessible, introduction to it ("and the things it will discover will rock you in the head"):

pheloniusfriar: (Default)
It was difficult to get up on a holiday Monday, especially when the weather was looking a little dicey, but this was to be the restarting of something I have been working on for more than a decade: my career as a pilot. Well, that is something of an exaggeration. When I got my Private Pilot License back in 2001, it was impossible for me to qualify for a Commercial Pilot License (i.e. something that could be a "career") because of my eyesight; however, in 2005, Canada changed its laws such that I could potentially qualify for a Class 1 Medical Certificate (required to be a commercial pilot, along with, of course, a Commercial Pilot License). Before, if you needed more than a certain eyesight correction, you couldn't hold a Class 1 medical; but now, as long as your eyes are healthy and correctable to 20/20, then you're good to go. Well, you have to be generally healthy as well, but that had been my only issue with getting one, so I have maintained a Class 1 medical since then. Well, that's not entirely accurate either... when you're over 40, a Class 1 only lasts for 6 months and then lapses to a Class 3 for the next year and a half (if you don't get re-examined and issued another Class 1), and a Class 3 is what I need to fly non-commercially (i.e. to fly as a private pilot you need a valid and current Class 3 [or Class 1] medical, which is all my license currently allows me to do... this is all so complicated, heh). And that's what I kept doing: getting my Class 1 every 2 years to make sure it was still worth trying, and then letting it lapse to a Class 3 and using that to do what flying I was able to do. I got examined and issued my latest Class 1 at the end of March 2013.

As a note, because it confuses some people, as a private pilot I can take up passengers, and I can even let friends chip in to cover the aircraft rental and fuel, but I can't make money flying or hire myself out as a pilot or run an air taxi service, etc.. It's a fine line to walk, but pretty much as long as it's friends and I going for a flight and we share expenses [even if I end up actually paying nothing], then it's okay. If I'm flying strangers under the same circumstances, that's not so good... unless it's part of a "flying day event" and I'm just volunteering my time in an aircraft provided for the event... sigh, there are so many rules... Here is one of my favourite Canadian air regulations as an example of esoteric stuff you have to know to fly (or at least if you want to be a good pilot, which I do): TC AIM RAC 1.14.1 – Farms marked with chrome yellow and black strips, or flying a red flag, especially during the months of February, March, April, and May, should not be overflown by rotary wing and fixed wing aircraft at altitudes less than 2000 feet AGL [Above Ground Level] due to whelping foxes, or the stampeding behaviour of ostriches and emus.

The real issue is (see? complicated.) that the last time I've really had enough money to devote to flying was during the high technology boom around when I got my private pilot license. As soon as I had that, I got my Night Rating and then my VFR Over-The-Top Rating (which allows me to fly over the tops of clouds, as long as there was a hole to pop up through where I was leaving from and clear enough skies where I was going to land... it does not permit me to fly into or through a cloud). Then the bottom fell out of the job market here in Ottawa and I ended up having to find work in the US, where I lived from 2003 to 2009 when my work visa expired and I decided to return to Canada rather than seek a "Green Card" (the place I worked for was a socially toxic environment... in one year I was there, 15 of 9 people quit the engineering group I was in). So, if the laws in Canada had not have waited until 2005 to change, I would likely be flying for an airline or other air service now (because I would have gone on to get my commercial license in the early 2000s as well). But, such is life. I did fly in the US and got most of an IFR (instrument) Rating, but the cost of medical services for my children there (even with insurance at the Fortune 50 company I was at), and the cost of travel back and forth to Canada so the kids could visit their mother, and the fact the closest airport with rental aircraft and instructors was a 2 hour cross-state drive, meant that I flew a lot less than I needed to complete that work. I did still manage to get my Complex Endorsement (that I could fly aircraft with retractable landing gear and variable-pitch propellers) and my High-Altitude Endorsement (that allows me to fly where pressurized cabins or supplementary oxygen is needed).

Well, because of several factors, I have been unable to do much flying at all since I've been back in Canada (that whole "starving student" and "university overload" thing and a need to devote what money and time I had left to family-related issues). In fact, the last time I flew was in November, 2011 when I was in Vancouver, BC for a set of meetings at TRIUMF related to the work I was doing as an undergraduate Research Assistant for the CRIPT project. I flew (on Air Canada or some such) to Vancouver a few days early, stayed in a hostel (my first time), and found all sorts of wonderful things to do in the couple of days I had before moving into the residence for visiting scientists next to TRIUMF. Anyway, I had booked a flight on the very off chance that the weather in Vancouver was nice on the Saturday (the people I knew from there laughed when I suggested I was hoping for nice weather), but... the weather was gorgeous the entire time I was on my "vacation time" (and rained pretty much the whole next week I was working... sweet!!!). Well, the weather was great and I took public transit to Delta where the airport was located (the transit system in Vancouver is wonderful... especially compared to the festering pile of shit that is Ottawa's system... no disrespect to most drivers, they are as much victims of the political interference and gross management incompetence as the people stuck riding it). Unfortunately, the address they had on their web site was not the one I should have gone to... it was an airport in an entirely different city :(. I sat outside the locked building with their name on it for a while before phoning to find out where they were... yup. The good news is that they agreed to send the instructor that I was going to fly with (I certainly wasn't flying into the Rocky Mountains on my own even if they'd let me, I didn't have any prior experience mountain flying) to come get me at the airport I was at (I had to pay for the aircraft rental and their time, but that certainly beat the alternative of not flying at all, so it was great!). Here's one of the pictures I took out of the window as I was flying (click on it for a giganormous version of the photo if you are so inclined):

Oh, as an aside, while I was on my Vancouver "vacation time", I also managed to get in to see one of the last Pink Floyd laser light shows in the planetarium there... an institution ending after almost 30 years :(... and I also got to see Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman at a sold-out concert (thanks to my friend Marc)... I hadn't even known they were going to be there until I walked past the venue and read the sign!!!

So it had been roughly a year and a half since I had last flown... and I knew I was going to be horribly rusty (not necessarily dangerous, just rough around the edges). Because it's Rockcliffe Flying Club rules that to rent aircraft and fly solo, you must have flown in the past 30 days (a generally good rule), I need to go through a "checkout" process and that means flying with an instructor until I've proven my competence (here, an excellent rule). But when I looked at the weather reports (you can have a peek here if you're brave enough to see what aviation weather data for pilots looks like), it was showing lowering cloud ceilings, but still nominal for the flight. When I got in my car to drive there, it was looking a lot crappier than what the forecast had said... and sure enough, when I got to the airport, the forecasts had been amended to show 800 foot ceilings, which is way too low even to do what I needed to do. But... things were supposed to get better fairly quickly... right after my booking's time slot was finished... ugh. In the end, it was somewhere in between... the weather wasn't good enough to go and do the work I needed to do to get current again, but it was good enough to do some circuits, and take-offs and landings are where the rustiness really sets in quickly (well, that and radio work). So I managed to get in 4 takeoffs and landings in the time we had remaining for the lesson. The good news is that I am still safe to fly (the landing is certainly the hardest part of a flight usually), but I can't say that the landings were what could be called "pretty" (again, they were functional and safe, but they were far from what I would consider elegant, which is where I want to get back to being). It's amazing how much work it is to do just that, and when we were done, I was all wibbly in the legs from the effort and the excitement (all good).

But... just as we landed and the instructor switched on his phone again... he had received a text from his 1PM student that they weren't well enough to make it in... and the weather was already starting to get much, much better... so... well, it just made sense for me to jump at the chance! I headed off for an hour to grab a sandwich, and came back for a "proper" flight. This time, we headed out northwest of the city to practice "upper air work". In this case, steep turns (45 degrees... quite tricky to do well, but a necessary skill to have as a pilot... one mistake and you could stall or enter a spiral dive) and slow flight (maneuvering the plane just above stall through level turns without changing altitude, as well as slow flight climbs and descents... all with the stall warning blaring). Again, so much work, but it was glorious to be in the air again after so long (and in such beautiful weather... it's apparently the last we're going to see this week). I even got to bop around and above a few isolated clouds at around 3500 feet (practicing steep turns all the while), which made me happy. I still have to go up with an instructor at least one more time to practice stall and spiral dive recovery and emergency landings (at some point the instructor will pull the throttle back to idle, glare at me evilly, and say something like "ooops, your engine has failed, what are you going to do now?" ... so I will have to find a safe spot to land, set up for the landing, and then at around 300 feet, abort the landing [the engine is still running, it's just at idle, so I just have to push the throttle back in] and take us back up). I suspect I will be "signed out" after that session and plan to do a whack o' solo flying this summer (pop into other airports for lunch or a day of touristy things). How, you might ask? Well, I had a lucrative 3 week contract at the start of the summer to help pack up the CRIPT detector and move it to the Chalk River nuclear facility, and I landed another part-time gig on helping Carleton set up North America's only EUDET Pixel Telescope facility for the rest of the summer (let me know what you think of the web site, I'm the one writing it). I have decided to use all the money I'm making to advance myself toward this remaining goal of getting my commercial license finally (although I don't think I will make it all the way during the summer, I should be well positioned to wrap it up in the fall). Okay, maybe "all the money" is an exaggeration, but I'll put what I can toward it, and that's more than I've been able to do in over 4 years.

The flights I did today have put me in a much better mood (it would be honest, if a little smirk inducing, to say that my spirits are soaring, heh), and have made me more motivated to get more organized and focused on all the work I want to get done in the next few years. There wasn't much to share about the flights today because, for me, it was mostly hard work and concentration on flying rather than the pure enjoyment of flight. But... when I do manage to get solo again (and take passengers and stuff if there are any takers... yes, SW, I know you will want to go, heh, don't worry)... I'll try to wax a little more poetic and less functional (and maybe take some pictures) when I post about those. Well, off to sleep, I have a big day at work/school/etc. tomorrow.
pheloniusfriar: (Default)
The job interview at the airport only lasted half an hour ('til 10h30 or so), so it was back to drawing lines and angles on maps, filling in charts, calculating wind drift corrections, and pouring over aircraft performance charts and "winds aloft" supercomputer model predictions to determine estimated ground speeds and fuel consumption and estimated times to reach my chosen waypoints for my noon flight. Since I was doing a "cross country" trip (which is any flight more than about 25 nautical miles), I was booked into GQQV, an Instrument Flight Rules (IFR) rated aircraft with an integrated Garmin 430 GPS, dual VORs, DME, dual radios, and ADF... everything but an autopilot. When my friend arrived to come with me (GG for those who know her), it was about 10 minutes before the flight had been booked to start at noon, so I got ready to file my flight plan and... found out as I was asking for the keys that the other IFR certified aircraft that the club has was in for maintenance and because I was doing a Visual Flight Rules (VFR) flight, GQQV had been given to a pilot who was doing an actual IFR flight. Fair enough, right? I didn't need all that fancy stuff to get to where I was going. We were going to go in GMME, which I'd never flown. So... it had at least a VOR, right? Nope. No VORs. Oh. Well at least it had a ADF said the instructor who was standing nearby in an effort to mitigate my disappointment... and that was fine because I had planned some navigation by NDB... but another instructor called over their shoulder on their way to the can "Oh, the ADF on GMME went on the fritz, so, no, it doesn't have ADF". Oh, so no radio navigation at all. So what did it have? Well, it had a single VHF radio and a Mode C transponder (okay, so it was at least latter quarter of the 20th century ready) and what is affectionately known as "a six pack of steam gauges": vacuum driven gyros for the heading indicator and artificial horizon, an electrical gyro for the turn indicator, and air pressure driven indicators for altitude, airspeed, and the vertical speed indicator. Well, I said, could I have one of the portable GPS units then? The instructor, still trying be helpful said that since I was bumped from GQQV that they'd even lend it to me for free... until the dispatcher rolled her eyes and said that the lighter socket on GMME doesn't work and the battery was dead on the GPS. Lose x 3. Sigh.

So it was going to be steam gauges, maps, my trusty E6B rotary slide rule, and a wristwatch that were going to get us there. Read about the flight... ) But we had survived the worsening weather and the path into the Rockcliffe airport was clear and free of rain or low clouds. Since I was coming in from the north of the city (over the city of Gatineau), and runway 09 was active because of the wind direction (it's usually 27), we overflew the field at 1700 feet and did a descending 180° turn over the city and had great views of it as well as we were coming over, around, and then back. Radio calls all the way, of course, and another aircraft was coming in from the Ottawa airport, acknowledged that they saw us and tucked in at a respectable distance behind (we were first in line to land... Rockcliffe is another uncontrolled airport, so it's up to the pilots using it to sort out who's doing what, where, and when). Down to 1200 feet, fly over the field, make our radio call, join the mid left downwind leg, do the pre-landing checks, turn onto the base leg and announce our position, slow the aircraft further, put some flaps down, start losing altitude, make our call and turn onto the final leg, align with the runway, put more flaps in, pull the power all the way back to idle, forward slip to lose a little more altitude and things are looking perfect for touchdown... over the parkway, over the fence, set down on the main gear (bounce again... sigh, gotta work on that), settle all the way down (heh), and gently lower the nose gear down as we lose speed. Brake and exit on taxiway Bravo. Clear the field by 200 feet and call clear of the active runway. The plane behind us lands after we're clear. Taxi back to the pumps. Fill it up with fuel and then go inside to call and close the flight plan. I was one minute early on returning the plane before my booking was due to end. Win x 3.

There's no real way to convey the pure joy of being in the air in a small aircraft (versus tearing across the upper reaches of the troposphere in a commercial jet). I always think of that line from "Contact" where she says "Some celestial event. No — no words. No words to describe it. Poetry! They should've sent a poet. So beautiful. So beautiful... I had no idea." When my friend Blackbird was here visiting from Germany, I told her we were going to go flying. She wasn't feeling well the first day we had planned to go and I canceled, but I convinced her to come with me to the airport the Sunday morning she was leaving. She came along because I was insistent and she knew it was important to me, not because she was particularly interested in and of itself. Well, I had another underhanded trick up my sleeve too: at that point, I was not allowed to fly because I hadn't had my checkride, so I had booked an "Introductory Flying Lesson" for her with an instructor, and she was going to be flying the plane (it actually counts as formal flight training and can be logged as flying hours under dual instruction time). Well, as you can imagine, she was ready to punch my clock but good after pulling that sort of stunt, but she's an adventurous type and decided to roll with it and kill me once she was back ;). Well, when she landed about 40 minutes later, she was a changed person and she was saying "I finally understand" (because she's been reading my posts for years). The promised threat of bodily harm to me upon her return was forgotten, and she went on to say that it had never occurred to her that she could be a pilot if she chose to do so... and that there were so many more things she could do that she had never previously thought herself capable of (heck, the sky's the limit, right? lol). Well, that's the way I feel every time I fly. And each time, my heart breaks at the wonder and overwhelming beauty of it all, and it gives me whatever impetus I need to do what I need to do in everything else I do, just because I know that I live in such a glorious world. That Gillespie poem captures it so well, "I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings"...

FYI, I can take someone with me each time I fly, so if you're in Ottawa, or will be in Ottawa, let me know if you want to come some time (donations towards rental costs are welcome, but not necessary... it will all go, to the penny, to the "more minutes in the air for Da Friar fund").

P.S. We never did get dessert because by the time we were back and the plane was fueled and tied down, my friend had to head off for her job at the circus sideshow that evening at 6PM. :(


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