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March 26, 2008

Man Sandwiches

Man Sandwiches

By Elaine Viets

I found out about the major difference between men and women on the fourth day of our honeymoon. Don and I were staying at the Plaza Hotel in New York, before it was Trumped.

The night before, I’d polished off a bottle of champagne mixed with four bottles of Guinness stout. Don called this concoction a Black Velvet.

It went down smooth and wicked. It woke me up, mean and nasty. At two in the morning, I didn’t feel like I’d been drinking Black Velvet. I felt like I’d been eating old carpets. My stomach heaved and churned like the storm-tossed North Atlantic. A gale of acid indigestion was going on down there.

I crawled into the bathroom and lay down on the cool tile floor. The hotel housekeeper would find me in the morning, dead. I could wear my wedding dress in my coffin. Right now, I just wanted to throw up and die.

Don poked his head in the bathroom and said, "Are you all right?" He was repulsively cheerful.

"Uhhhh," I groaned, like a creature from a freshly opened tomb.

"Reuben’s deli is open all night," he said. "Can I get you something to soothe your stomach?"

It wasn’t fair. The man drank more than I did, and he looked like he’d spent the night swilling soda water. I summoned the strength for a deathbed request.

"Just a little white meat of turkey," I said. "On a slice of white bread."

I put my head on the rim of the cool white commode and fell asleep.

Next thing I knew, Don was back with a disgusting, smelly, paper-wrapped mound. He had an innocent, proud look, like a retriever that had just brought a dead rabbit into the living room.

In this case it was a dead turkey. A full pound, covered with pickles, onions and sour cream, all of it swimming on a raft of Russian rye. My stomach lurched.

"You beast!" I screamed. "How could you do this?"

"You said you wanted turkey," he said, looking puzzled.

I slammed the door to the bathroom. The sandwich smell was so strong it invaded the whole room. While I lay dying, Don not only ate his pastrami, he also ate the monstrous turkey, onion and sour cream sandwich.

The next morning, I nibbled soda crackers for breakfast and wondered if it was too late to have the marriage annulled. I’d been married five days and I’d made a terrible mistake. Any man who would bring a sandwich like that to a dying woman was too insensitive to be married.

That was my awful intro to the man-made sandwich. From what I could figure out, a man-made sandwich has nothing to do with the sandwiches that women make. We prefer dainty creations made with healthy whole-grain bread, lettuce, watercress and other vegetables, free-range chicken and white meat of turkey, and when we’re feeling reckless, fat-free mayo.

A man-made sandwich looks like the guy cleaned out the fridge and put it on bread. It may have leftover pot roast, barbecue, chicken, pork chops, cole slaw, or potato salad. Pickles, relishes, onions, red pepper, black pepper and strange objects floating in vinegar in the jars on the side shelves are acceptable. Real mayo is a must. Hot sauce, hot mustard and spicy ketchup will do. Butter is always better. Deep-fat frying, in the finest Elvis tradition, is the making of a man’s sandwich.

Lettuce belongs in a salad bowl. Whole grains are for rabbits. Rye and dark bread are good, but should be used sparingly. They could be borderline healthy. Spongy pillow bread is ideal.

Back when I did television, I ate a pig-ear sandwich on camera. That’s a deep-fried pig’s ear, covered in barbecue sauce and potato salad and served on a white bun.

"I can’t eat that thing," I told my agent.

"Shut up," she said. "People have eaten worse to advance their careers."

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Elaine said: "Shut up," she said. "People have eaten worse to advance their careers."


Can we say Monica?

There's something about those cool tile floors in hotel bathrooms. After way too many Manhattans at the Carlyle in New York, I, too, found the cool tile floor. Dear hubby thought I had the flu.

I know what you mean, Elaine. I know a guy who has an iron stomach...and I'm not talking about the flat kind! He can eat food that's been sitting in the frig for weeks! Yuck! For me, if it's more than three days old...out it goes. While I must admit I like mayo & yellow mustard, I gag at the thought of anything fried (except for MickeyD's french fries).

My husband, daughter & son will eat anything spicy...the hotter the better...while my delicate taste buds prefer mild herbs instead. I like to taste the actual ingredients of my food, not burn my mouth so bad that I can't appreciate any of the food I've lovingly selected and cooked for my family.

Oh, and my most memorable toilet bowl-hugging experience? After four Rusty Nails -- eewwww -- NEVER, EVER, AGAIN!!!

Oh, Elaine! What a great blog.I say go for the gusto!
In my history, it's the Sunday after church special......toasted white bread with bacon, iceburg lettuce, tomato, a fried egg and mayo.......bliss! Napkin essential. For my kids it was "the Saturday-night Special"---a hamburger bun, chipped ham, American cheese and relish wrapped in foil and baked to perfection!
It's easy to see how you two are still together.....any guy who goes out for a deli rx is a keeper!
ma

Notice how we start in early on Elaine's Days?

Now, John Steed would never have brought Emma such a gastronomic holocaust. He'd never have mixed Guinness with champagne, either . . .

But Steed has the advantage of being fictional. William will confirm Steed once dispatched an opponent by use of a cucumber sandwich. Not that Don isn't a mighty operator himself. Why, surely he could have done the deed in real life . . . with a pickle spear.

Okay, I have a cast iron stomach. I love monster sandwiches on hearty breads and at a local bar where a friend worked as bartender I hold the record for the most Long Island Iced Teas downed in one sitting. No hangover, no upset stomach, and the room did not spin. Spicy food? The spicier the better! Does this make me less of a woman? ;)

Oh, Elaine. That had to be miserable. Champagne causes the most brutal hangovers known to man. I've never had the courage for Black Velvets myself, so I commend you on that. But geez, the price one pays. At this point in life, wave a bar rag under my nose and I'll be hungover next morning. Somehow, I don't miss the Morning Afters....:) I've become a serious connoisseur of Club Soda. If the barman has enough class to have root beer available, well, he's made a friend for life.

And, yes, Tom, the Cucumber Sandwich. No well-dressed gentleman will face an opponent without one!

Lesson learned: Never drink three (regular-sized) wine glasses of cream sherry followed by a pizza.

Never, never, never!

I think a sandwhich should have one kind of meat---unless the second meat is a slice of ham or a little bacon for the saltiness factor. But my husband loves turkey and ham and roast beef and "Italian ham" all mixed together. With some goopy dressing and probably a little mayo, too. And a Yuengling, of course. Erg. Just thinking of it makes my tummy uneasy.

Is everybody heading over to visit Joshilyn Jackson's site today? It's only polite.

I'm with William...club soda and lime.
(Of course an occasional glass of pinot grigio is nice, but I don't do hard liquor well)
I was raised on man sandwiches. Cucumber and watercress? Afternoon tea at The Empress or Palm Court, but any other time, pastrami or corned beef on rye. Or a turkey club. And I insist on good hearty bread to go with the meat and cheeses. Mayo not so much, but mustard is good. I think it's genetic...we Scot/Germans need our strength :o)

When I was a kid, my very German dad used to make limburger cheese sandwiches on rye, with a slice of raw onion (a good, thick one), and lots of yellow mustard. You could smell it all over the house, and heck, probably three blocks away, too. Washed it down with a glass of beer, naturally. A friend of ours likes these, too, and he usually gets one at Oktoberfest. I had no idea they even served them there! Never had the guts to try one, myself.

The drunkest I ever got, and the quickest, was on four glasses of champagne after a party we had. I had cooked and cleaned all day, and had neglected to eat until it was too late to do any good. Yuck.

We have a place here called Primanti Brothers, and we make a damn fine sandwich - between two slices of white bread, you get your choice of meat(s), cheese, garden (lettuce, tomato, onion), cole slaw and french fries. That's right. Fries right in the sandwich.

The best time to eat this delicacy is about 2 in the morning. The theory is that it soaks up all that booze in the system. It also fills you up and makes you sleepy.

Second best sandwich in Pittsburgh is the grilled Rachel - a Reuben sandwich with turkey instead of corned beef. The Square Cafe's is fantastic, but it's only on special sometimes.

I still drink, but the older I get, the more strictly enforce the "Do not mix" rule. Whatever you start out drinking, you stick. That, and lots of water in between drinks has kept me from that cool tile on the bathroom floor.

Ha ha, great blog topic, Elaine!

The only thing I can eat when terribly hung over is plain pasta or rice. For a mild hangover, scrambled eggs and toast will do the trick. And even on a good day, the wildest sandwich I'll eat is a turkey club!

I agree with Nancy about not mixing meats, but my husband loves a big Italian grinder with ham and salami and onion and peppers and all sorts of crazy stuff. All the men in my family, including the mini men, love a Philly cheese steak, which -- no offense to the Keystone Staters on this blog -- absolutely turns my stomach.

The worst 'after' experience I have ever had was when I was 20. My date & I went with his friends to see Jaws the day it was released, July 4, 1975. After the movie we went to his friends house & tried to decide which appliance made the best strawberry daquiries, a juicer or blender. Then we went out for Jack-in-the-Box tacos.

OMG!

When I was a kid and mom wasn't around to make lunch, my dad would cut thick slices of baloney, fry them in a skillet until brown and oozing grease, then put them on Wonder Bread with with lots of Miracle Whip. His other specialty was thick greasy hamburgers, also served on Wonder Bread with Miracle Whip. (This was the theme of all my dad's culinary efforts, grease/white bread/Miracle Whip).

The worst 'morning after' I ever had involved pitchers of margaritas, waking up shortly before dawn in a cold waterbed, (the heater had gone out during the night), crawling out of bed and trying to make it to the bathroom while shaking violently from a combination of hypothermia and intense nausea. I'll spare you the details of what followed, but over 25 years later I still can't drink margaritas.

The worst sandwich I've ever had, ordered off a menu without a clue, was the Monte Cristo. It's a multi-meat and cheese affair that is deep-fried, if you can believe it. There were so many calories on that plate it was obscene, especially since it came with a mountain of fries. No alcohol was necessary to make me sick after a few bites of that one.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monte_Cristo_sandwich

My worst hangover was on red wine. I can't tell you the name of the offending grape, but if there'd been a gun in the house, I'd have shot myself. And we were far into the wilds of upstate New York and no one had thought to bring Tylenol on the weekend expedition. Nightmare.

When I was pregnant (years later, don't worry) I used to fantacize about BLTs, the kind I ate as a teenager, before Vegetarianism set in. And club sandwiches. I actually got close to one, but couldn't actually bring myself to eat it. I just liked the mental taste of it.

Cream sherry and a pizza -- hoo boy. I'd be checkig the obit pages for my name.
"mental taste" is a terrific image, Harley. If I could "mental taste" more food, I'd be a lot thinner.

Great blog, Elaine, and a testament to you that you're still married after that :)

Worst hangover -- mixing alcohols and other substances during and after an awkward party at an ex's place (hosted by his current . . .). That was my one and only blackout event. But the worst "hugging" experience was just wine and herb. Now I'm just really careful: 1-2 drinks and I'm done.

I love sandwiches, but do require the hearty whole-grain bread. Nancy, I'm with you -- one meat, please, and not too much of it. My big downfall is the cheese - love it, love it, love it!

Waterbeds -- how could I forget what a hangover felt like when I woke up on a waterbed. That sloshing was brutal.

Congratulations Sarah on The Sleeping Beauty Proposal being an RWA Rita Finalist - 2008 RITA for Contemporary Single Title Romance Finalists


http://www.rwanational.org/cs/2008_rita_finalists

Yeah YOU!

SAAAAAARRAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!

Hooray, Sarah!!!!!!!!! That is so great!

Lor' love a duck. Know what we forgot? Her, Margie's, version of a Man Sandwich.

Multiple meats are said to be involved.

This might explain the bills from the deli, Michele. And the Bills from the deli, too.

Tom, exactly what I was thinking when I saw todays title! A 'me, Margie' exploit!! LOL
I quit drinking mixed drinks after a really horrendous hangover.
Crown on the rocks may leave me feeling disconnected the next day but never the bed spins or puking.
The only mixed meat sandwiches I like are the ones with bacon on them (turkey club) or an occasional Amaghetti's special. I really need to make a trip to The Hill!
Don't forget another St.L favorite, Elaine!
Braunsweiger & onion on rye with lots of mustard. Another German thing?

Yup, sure is. But she quails to mention the real STL deal - the fried brain sandwich with mayo and purple onions. With cheap bar-brand whiskey and a beer back.

Saturday afternoons just haven't been the same since leaving the South Side. Thank ghod.

Tom and Rita - Ya nailed me. (hah - you wish). I guess we're the only ones from the IOHFTS Club today. Or perhaps no one else is ready to admit it.....

When I saw the title of the blog, I thought, "Go Elaine! Here's a subject we can sink our teeth into!"

But no. Puking and bad food. Fantastic. But hey, all you people seem to like the subject, so have fun. But I gotta point out that I have, in fact, seen photos of Elaine in smokin' leather pants, so I'm keeping an eye on her. Just saying.

Elaine, do you have pictures from Leather & Lace?! Yes, they must be posted! In stilettos?
OMG, Bob's fantasy! LOL

I'll admit I thought "impure thoughts" also -- Elaine seems to pick titles that tittilate.
Karen, we diverge for the first time. I like Monte Cristo sandwiches. I don't have them often, but I like them, and the Crooked Tree makes a Count of Monte Cristo Crepe that is wonderful (and alittle lighter).
I've had the Primanti's sandwich also, except without the French fries (somehow potatoes are off-limits for those with the *%$*& latex allergy).
I never could drink much, now even less. I love when waiters offer a "taste" of wine, because that's all I can manage.
Off to aqua-aerobics now -- y'all have scared me away from food for a bit.

Yes, I do have photos from leather and lace. My face is blue because the pants are so tight I can't breathe.

Lor' love a duck, Tom? I haven't heard that one in a donkey's age. Made me smile a lot though - reminded me of home. Australia: a lot warmer over there, than it is here at the moment.

What's wrong with 'fries on bread'? My fave as a kid was the Aussie 'fry' - twice or more the thickness of the stringy Amercian thing - the 'chip'. We had 'chip butties': bun liberally spread with marg or butter, pile of 'chips' and finished of with tomato sauce, er ketchup. Yum.

I still have difficulty handling the 'man sandwiches' in this country after ten years. I like a few slices of meat, THEN the rest of the fixings on two thin slices of bread. No wonder obesity is a problem over here. I put on 40 pounds my first year here, because I didn't know how to eat American meals, and we ate out so much with travel. Sigh.

Marianne

13 years ago, I thought I had digestion problems - turns out I had become allergic to grains - yes all of them, including rice.
I haven't had a sandwich since then, and I dream about them.
A family favorite was cheddar and jelly on white bread, dipped in egg/milk and voila, french toasted sandwich with melted cheese and jelly.
Yep, Canadians eat big sandwiches too. I miss mayo - it is not as fun without bread.
I get swoony over the smell of toast . . .
Or to be able to eat an actual hamburger instead of 'can I have the meat patty, no bun'.

mmmmmmm Black Velvets. Served with Hangtown Fry (fried oysters and scrambled eggs). Of course, I haven't had Guinness since going gluten free -- AND I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THAT. To hell with the champagne.
On the other hand, L.L., cream sherry -- yuk! My dad's drink of choice was a couple [few] cocktail glasses of sherry every evening. So the smell of sherry is kind of sick making for me. Then he switched to Tanquerey gin.

Marianne - you're another friend of Sheila Finch, I believe. Great writer, great teacher, great friend.

Yes, I will admit to having Kiwi and Ozzie friends who have led me down the path to peculiar expressions; some of them verbal.

SAAAARRRRHHHAAAA -- YYEEEEAAAAHHHHH on the RITA nomination!!!!! w00t

Go get that statue!

Gaylin! No sandwiches? That is a tragedy.
Go Sarah! Can we bribe the judges, stuff the ballot box or otherwise help you win that RITA?

"Lor' Love a Duck", Tom? Well, Gor Blimey, and God Save the Queen! Get out the bowler and umbrella, Sir. Diabolical Masterminds are Everywhere!

Previous comparisons of Elaine to Mrs. Peel when a photo of Leather and Lace was posted have occurred; one shouldn't wish to embarrass M'Lady, but one will say the comparison was highly apropos and apt...:)

Major congratulations to Sarah! That's a Big Thing, and we shall hoist a glass of Root Beer in her honor this evening. (After today's blog, and the sense memories it's triggered, Root Beer is about all I can handle....:))

Yes, Tom, I know Sheila - wish I could get around to spending some quality time with her. I think I'll add that to my New Years resolutions. There are so many people I want to sit down and catch up with.

So, Tom, do you know the origins of the Aussie slang 'rope-able'? My hubby almost fell out of the car laughing when I came out with it one day and had to explain it to him. Mind you, he's done that with a couple of other Aussie slang terms too... :-D

Cheers,
Marianne

Yeah, Sarah!!!!! Congratulations.

As for hangovers, I have only ever had one. I can do straight-up tequila on occassion. However, when I was younger, I couldnt drink soda. One time, while in D.C. on business, a bunch of us went out drinking. I did the tequila with a cranberry juice chaser...or so I thought. Turns out the schmuck changed it to an Alabama slammer. My pretty world went dark, and he tried (unsuccessfully) to take advantage.

My recovery the next morning was sipping champagne. Which I won due to my solving the mystery that had been taking place over the entire weekend.

I don't drink often anymore, actually don't have to due to the brownies, but when I do I keep it simple.

Oh, now I've got to laugh. I just visited Sheila's website and there on the frontpage was her 'Guild of Xenolinguists' book - with my husband, BOb's painted cover.

Oh, and...

WAAYYYY TO GO, SARAH!!!! Congrats, m'lady.

Marianne

Yes, Marianne, with Bob's bookcover painting proudly displayed. He does wonderful work (Recommendation: all y'all giddyup and go buy the book, the quality of the cover DOES indicate the quality of the insides). Tremendous and mind-bending short stories by La Finch.

But no, I've never even heard 'rope-able,' let alone know its origins. Will She, Margie, like it? Sounds like she will.

William, dunno why that turn of phrase came to mind. But you caught my drift . . . and if you ever meet Don H., well, the comparison is even more apt.

Y'all are making me very happy that when I was younger I didn't drink much and that now I am allergic to alcohol. *g*
But, as for sandwiches? Nothing is better than a Turkey Club.

Ahhh...those days of hugging the toilet while I called the roll (Ralph, etc). I so miss them...NOT

The WORST I can remember was mixing fried potato skins with drinks. There was "fried potato skins" all over my bathroom. That was 24 years ago. I haven't eaten that since and probably never will.

Worst drink for hangovers (after champagne) is Cold Duck.

Congrats on being a RITA finalist, Sarah! "The Sleeping Beauty Proprosal" is a fun book & deserves the recognition!

And Cyndi, I'd forgotten all about Cold Duck. I had some awful experiences with that drink too...maybe why I forgot it! ;-)

Tom:

"I was rope-able over the whole bloody episode."

Rope-able = 'fit to be tied'

Marianne :-D

Yick, I never did Cold Duck (or Robin Hood or Mad dog 20/20) but that did remind me of the magnum of Blue Nun! Didn't get sick, but every time I took a drink of water the next day, drunk all over again! OMG fried brain and it wasn't on a sandwich!

and Sarah, you will win the RITA. I said so!

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY SARAH!

Cold Duck. Shudder. Why-oh-why-oh-why did anyone have to bring that memory back?

Cold Duck created some awesome hangovers in college, and led to a rule I only broke once: NEVER, ever drink anything with a plastic cork.

Sarah! Congratulations. Unless the judges are clueless, I'm sure you'll win.
I'm one of those obnoxious people that never really gets hung over — no matter how much I drink — just occassionally really thirsty the next day. That said, the first time I got drunk it was on Goldschlager (SHUDDER) which amazes me to this day, because I don't like that straight-cinnamon flavor, and Goldschalger tastes like melted-down red hots. I did 9 shots in 45 minutes. I don't remember any of it as I quickly became catatonic, but I apparently was a veritable fountain of "ralph." I may not have been hung over the next day, but I did wake up on my floor in nothing but a towel (my friends made me take a shower, I'm sure you can imagine why) and I had to scrub the couch cushions. Not fun. And to this day, even the smell of Goldschlager is enough to make me feel queesy. Sandwich-wise I also like to stick to one meat, with a good amount of cheese (but not enough to overwhelm the rest) occasionally a bit of lettuce and nice, thick slices of some form of bread. Geeze. This blog is making me hungry with all this talk of sandwiches and burgers. And now I want Root Beer (aka God's gift to soda) William. I hope you all are happy. Oh! and Michele, I've FINALLY started your series. Almost done with "Most Wanted" (if it wasn't necessary to earn a paycheck I would be) and I LOVE it.

Sarah! Congratulations. Unless the judges are clueless, I'm sure you'll win.
I'm one of those obnoxious people that never really gets hung over — no matter how much I drink — just occassionally really thirsty the next day. That said, the first time I got drunk it was on Goldschlager (SHUDDER) which amazes me to this day, because I don't like that straight-cinnamon flavor, and Goldschalger tastes like melted-down red hots. I did 9 shots in 45 minutes. I don't remember any of it as I quickly became catatonic, but I apparently was a veritable fountain of "ralph." I may not have been hung over the next day, but I did wake up on my floor in nothing but a towel (my friends made me take a shower, I'm sure you can imagine why) and I had to scrub the couch cushions. Not fun. And to this day, even the smell of Goldschlager is enough to make me feel queesy. Sandwich-wise I also like to stick to one meat, with a good amount of cheese (but not enough to overwhelm the rest) occasionally a bit of lettuce and nice, thick slices of some form of bread. Geeze. This blog is making me hungry with all this talk of sandwiches and burgers. And now I want Root Beer (aka God's gift to soda) William. I hope you all are happy. Oh! and Michele, I've FINALLY started your series. Almost done with "Most Wanted" (if it wasn't necessary to earn a paycheck I would be) and I LOVE it.

sorry about the double post. and ummm, what's cold duck?

Cold Duck is a sparkling wine, if I remember correctly; the last time I saw it was in the early 1970's.

Congratulations, and good luck, Sarah! How did I miss that earlier? The Tarts rock!

Mary, I also have no latex allergy, thank goodness. But we wouldn't want anyone to mix us up, would we?

Gaylin, a French toast cheese and jelly sandwich is one of the most creative I've ever heard. Sounds yummy, in the same category with a jelly omelet--which I've never had, either, but it always sounds good.

I was also one of those folks who didn't get a hangover - just cranky the next day but I am always cranky in the morning so no big difference.
I gave up alcohol over 20 years ago, got a good look at my family tree and figured I would be the black sheep by not drinking. I do remember cleaning up after enough drunk friends/relatives that drinking enough to vomit was never appealing. I do miss Sambuca.

Karen - the cheese and jelly sandwich also is great grilled without the french toast part! just be careful as the jelly gets HOT.

Late with my two cents today, but enjoying the comments.

CONGRATS, SARAH!

As a youth, I got sick no matter how much I drank, and it didn't seem worth it to me, so I rarely have more than 2 glasses of wine anymore. My worst memory is getting totally hammered on OV splits (OV was a Canadian beer we got in Central NY - haven't seen it in these parts), and I haven't been able to drink beer since. I was sick as a dog the next day, but still went to work at 9:30. Did my thing (counting the money in the register drawers!) then came home early and didn't move from my bed until the next day.

As for sandwiches, I don't like a lot of stuff on them. I'm in the one meat at a time crowd (though concur with the turkey club). And Michele, gotta say I love me a cheesesteak, though I prefer mine with provolone instead of "Wiz". :)

Karen, so glad you don't share the latex allergy -- I wouldn't wish it on anyone (well, maybe on some really bad person, but not on someone as nice as you).
I went into the library today, ready to experiment with their new Wi-Fi setup. Returned some books, checked out another, headed toward the reference desk -- BALLOONS! Now, I'm ok with never going to Applebee's, but the library is essential. I'm ready to make a (federal) case of it, latex allergy being covered by the ADA . . . .

That's a crisis, Mary. The library is essential to a reader like you.

I'm having a library-related crisis, too; I cannot find my library card, or a bunch of other things I took out of my wallet before I went on a trip. Durn menopause--I can't remember what the heck I did with that stuff. Our book club is reading a book that I don't want to buy, too.

Karen, "my" library will use driver's license if the library card is MIA. I hope your library will be equally understanding. I've written a letter to the Director of my branch, requesting a firm policy of no balloons. I'm prepared to take it further if necessary, and invoke the sacred letters ADA (probably won't have to, the Y exorcised balloons once they knew of the problem).

SARAH -- you rock! Cinderella will never be the same!

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