Illegal Alien

•November 11, 2015 • Leave a Comment
On Oct 26, 2015, at 9:46 AM, Rob Orr <xxx@Princeton.EDU> wrote:
I hope you’re doing well. It’s hard to believe that this is year #37 for me here. Probably one of my fondness memories is you trying out for the team, way back when. Soon there after learning that I should be aware that some ‘bad guys’ may be coming on the deck some day to get you, as you weren’t really supposed to be here, or something like that- Actually I would like to hear the actual story so when I tell it to others it will be at least partially accurate.

Sorry it’s taken me a while to respond. I’ve been buried.

As for the story. I’ll let you start here: The One Way Trip
Now to get to the part where you entered the picture. In hindsight it was a scary time period; while I remember the stress, it was an exciting period of my life and the excitement must have gotten me through the worry and fear.
After making my way from Pakistan to Paris, it was unclear whether I would have to stay there or could continue on to the US. After three different visits and a little help from a friend in the US, I managed to get a student visa to enter the US. I left Paris on New Years Day 1983, and arrived at JFK late at night. I was so very excited to finally be at the end of my journey, with only an overnight stay and a bus ride separating me from my final destination. I proudly walked over to the immigration counter and handed over my passport. This was the same passport I had used to leave Pakistan where it was stamped upon exit, and later was stamped upon entry to France at the Paris airport. The same passport that I provided to the US embassy on those three visits, until it had finally earned a US visa imprint. And the same passport that was again stamped upon exit from Paris.
The immigration officer at JFK took one look at my passport cover, saw that it was an Iranian passport, and had me escorted over to a different area, to a uniformed and armed woman at a special counter. Even though I had a valid and legit US visa, sometime during my trip from Iran through Pakistan, my passport had expired. This was known to me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I had left Iran without permission – no way in hell was that government going to be renewing my passport. Yet, I had completely forgotten about it, given how much scrutiny the passport had gotten without anyone taking issue with it.
This special officer wasn’t slacking off. She took that passport and gave it a figurative cavity search. She tried to peel the cover off, checked how well my photo was attached, examined the visa stamp, poked at it, and tried to rub a corner off with an eraser… As her inspection came to an end and I thought she was about to close the pages of the passport, she did what seemed to be a mental double-take: “December 1982. Huh? Wait a second, it’s 1983 now!” She pointed to the expiration and said, “This passport has expired.” Before I could open my mouth, she picked up her PA microphone and announced “Air France agent needed at location x for a return fly back”. My heart sank. I was on the verge of tears.
She looked at me and asked me if I had anything to say. Fighting back the lump in my throat, I told her that as far as the US is concerned, I had a valid visa and I was there legally.
“You cannot enter the US on an invalid or expired passport.”
I tried to explain that there was no way that I could get my passport renewed and that by sending me back to France, I could also get rejected there and be sent back to Iran. And that was possibly deadly or at best would lead to imprisonment.
The Air France agent was there.  The officer asked her if there was an plane returning to Paris, and the agent replied that there was a plane leaving soon.  The officer then asked her to hold the plane.
“You have two choices. You can go with this woman and get on the flight to Paris, or you can request political asylum.”
“Yes. I’d like to request that.”
“You need to request political asylum”.
“Yes. I request it.”
“Say it like I said.”
“I request political asylum.”
Addressing the Air France agent, “Thank you, you can release the plane now”.
She then explained to me that she would be interviewing me to establish credible fear and that if I lied or misrepresented the truth, I would be deported immediately. She placed me under oath and we spent the next hour or so with her asking me questions, and writing both the questions and my responses down. At the end, she told me that I would have a hearing in NYC in a week, and that because I was enrolled in a school and had a US address, she would release me pending the outcome of that hearing. With that, I was reunited with my suitcase, and was allowed to proceed to the exit where I hailed a cab. I think it was around 10pm when I got to my hotel.
On Sunday I arrived in Williamstown MA, where my host family welcomed me. On Monday, January 3, 1983, I attended my first day of high school in the US, as an eleventh-grader.
I attended the hearing a week later, and the judge determined that I had a reasonable fear of persecution and possible imprisonment and death, and my application for political asylum officially commenced.
Fast forward eighteen months. I had graduated from high school. It was sometime in August, 1984. I received a thin letter from the Immigration and Naturalization Service. (Let me just add that in the Spring I had received a number of thick envelopes, one from Princeton.) The letter simply stated, “Your application for political asylum has been denied. Please leave the United States immediately. If you do not leave the country by September 30, we will begin deportation proceedings.”
I mentioned this to a friend or two, and the news spread like wildfire. The Williamstown community was in shock that “this kid who came all this way with such hardship, attended school and got good grades and awards, made friends with our kids, has been accepted to Princeton – is now being kicked out?!?” People called their congressmen and representatives. Newspapers and TV stations scrambled to interview me. Someone at Williams (where I took a couple of courses) called General Counsel Wright at Princeton and gave him a heads up, and it was relayed to me that Princeton was still looking forward to my arrival.
It was the twenty-something of September when I arrived on campus. Amidst all the Freshman week hustle, bustle and craziness, I was very unsure what was going to happen on Sept. 30th. It was easy to forget about it, until the end of the day. As I went to sleep each night, I worried that my time in paradise could come to an end at any moment. I still vividly recall numerous nightmares I experienced during those years, where I would find myself back in Iran, in a variety of scary situations, including being chased by the revolutionary guards.
Sept. 30 arrived and passed. I officially became an illegal alien.
My roommates came up with a plan. If there were immigration agents out to get me, they’d warn me so I could leave out the dormitory window (ground floor), or if the INS agents were waiting for me in the room, they devised ways to warn me so I would stay away from the room. Not sure how effective their efforts would have been, but I sure appreciated their support.
Sometime during that first week of school, I went to an upperclass party in Cuyler. The upperclassmen, whose names I have forgotten (’85 or ’86) were busy asking me all about Iran. It came up that in Iran I spent most of my summers in the water, and that I was the fastest swimmer among my friends there. They told me that they were on the swim team and that I should come try out for the team. I didn’t really take it seriously. In fact, I forgot about it completely. Some days later though, a couple of these guys, along with, I believe, Bob Rivers, showed up at my dorm to take me to dry lands practice.
And sometime later, you became another ally who were to warn me if I needed to ditch the pool and run away.
The support I felt from the swim team, my roommates and much of the Princeton community was instrumental in offsetting the fear and stress. In hindsight, I am surprised I didn’t have some sort of a breakdown. I’m sure the weekend partying helped keep me from thinking about the reality. (Later my stress level got even more elevated when my dad – who with the rest of my family had since moved from Iran to Walnut Creek CA – had a heart attack, with no insurance, and turned down the recommended treatment so that he could still afford to send his kids to college).
As for the swimming. Being the fastest swimmer among your friends and family in a city with no swim team, isn’t saying much. I clearly recall my first day in Dillon pool, sometime after dry lands, wondering how everyone got across the pool so quickly, while I was still midway – even worse, for some reason we were swimming the pool width-wise! Of course, when the only form of swimming you know has you breathing and looking ahead, and that’s your version of the freestyle, then you’re not really a swimmer. I learned the strokes pretty quickly though (maybe not the backstroke). And later that same season I managed to complete the 500 free in the Yale pool, and despite coming in last, I can’t forget hearing my teammates’ loud cheering and applause at each turn.
I can only imagine how much more rewarding, educational and fun my time at Princeton would have been without the fear of deportation. But I am very thankful for people like you and Susan who took me in and provided the support that I needed to offset the dark cloud that was hanging over me.
It wasn’t until the summer before senior year that I got a notice that my political asylum was granted. A year or so later I received a “green card”. I am now a US citizen.

Intelligent life is just getting started

•August 18, 2014 • Leave a Comment


What if there’s a more interesting or easier to explore place to go than “out”? I propose two such places:

Used to be that as kids we’d play outside, tinker inside, explore our environment, physically interact with other kids, etc. Today, many kids are happy to stay immobile while they explore cyberspace, virtually interact with each other, or digitally create. Could ETCs all graduate to the point where they are happy to stay put and just explore virtual realities? Or create simulated universes (which we may be in one of) and enter them? This does assume that population pressure allows them the luxury of staying put. (There’s also cataclysm pressure which forces you to move or expand, lest a cataclysm makes you extinct; even if you can manage your population and resources, a civilization would have to be careless not to expand out.)

My second proposal: just as we’ve come to know the moon or Mars better than we know our ocean depths, and how the exploration of space is capturing more of our imagination than the exploration of our planet, maybe there are yet other places for us to go than out to space.

Could ETCs, in the process of trying to devise schemes to exceed the speed of light, have all stumbled onto inter-dimensional travel and discovered a much more fascinating and less energy-consuming frontier? Why bother with slow, dangerous and expensive travel to space, when stepping into another dimension is considerably easier and equally rewarding?  Just as a child has no reason to return to the womb, ETCs who step out of this realm may have no desire to return.

Originally posted on Praxtime by Nathan Taylor:

space intel life

Update: also see my follow-on post about Sagan Syndrome

I wrote an earlier post supporting the view that Earth is a unique planet. It’s likely the only planet in our galaxy supporting complex life. I wanted to do an update after coming across an excellent post by Stephen Ashworth, who categorizes views on alien life into either “steady state” or “expansionist”.

View original 1,009 more words

Tesla: “The Most Impractical Car”

•August 7, 2014 • Leave a Comment

It’s been just over a year since we purchased our 85kWh Tesla Model S. We’ve put a bit over 17,000 miles on it. We used some 6950 kWh (at 11 cents a kWh = $764) to cover those miles, and have paid PG&E (our electricity provider) approximately $850 (the discrepancy is likely due to electric use not related to moving the car). In this time period, we’ve used this car as we have other cars, except that we haven’t yet driven to Los Angeles, nor to Tahoe, from where we live in the east SF Bay Area.

Once, we drove this car 80 miles to Santa Cruz, spent the weekend driving around there, and returned, without needing to charge the car, and had 50 miles of range left when we got home – a total of about 200 miles driven.

A few months ago, I drove this car 140 uphill miles to Nevada City, and on the way back, I had my first and only episode of “range-anxiety”. It was self-inflicted (you can read more about it here) but has significantly reduced any worry about running out of juice; there are many Superchargers and slower charging stations available and the worse case scenario would be to get yourself towed to one of those. The take away for me was that the car doesn’t just stop when it hits “zero range”.

This car truly has been as useful as any other sedan, while outperforming anything I’ve ever owned, including a 300HP internal combustion convertible I still drive — it’s also really fun to drive! Yes, it doesn’t have as many seats as an SUV, nor does it have a tow hitch for my bike carrier or to tow something from the equipment rental store (like a wood chipper), but then, neither do most luxury cars nor does my convertible.

So what that it can’t go to LA without needing to be charged twice each way (once, if you try hard and can charge it again as soon as you hit the limits of LA) – how often do we drive to LA? I think we’ve done that trip once since we’ve had kids some umpteen years ago.

That brings me to why I am writing this. In a recent discussion, a friend who lives in the Midwest, overheard mention of the name Tesla and immediately muttered, “Tesla, the most impractical car”. I quickly said, “We have one and it has been quite practical for us”. I explained how we put at least 50 miles on the car each weekday , and plug it in each night, right at our home, and we never have to visit a gas station. “What exactly is impractical?”, I asked. “Electric cars are inefficient, there are not not enough charging stations, and they can’t store anywhere near the amount of stored energy a traditional car does”. I did’t quite understand his point, but changed the subject. If a car can meet your needs, without forcing discomfort, and at a lower operating cost, is it still “impractical”?

Any new technology will have hurdles associated with it. Surely, when the first gas-powered cars began traveling roads meant for horses and horse-pulled-carriages, there were detractors who wondered where one would fuel them, or how anyone could put up with the incessant noise. With time, those issues have faded away. In my opinion, the Tesla Model S is way ahead by having already resolved some of the “new technology hurdles” (it already has a 250 mile range), and with more time, we’ll see more charging stations, improvements in battery capacity, and lowered associated costs and environmental impact of creating those batteries.

Why would you need more stored energy when the car can outperform any other car doing the things we need it to do? If I needed an explosion, maybe gas would be a better choice, but seriously, unless you’re doing a 200 miles drive, each way, everyday, I’d say that you don’t need as much “stored energy” as a traditional car. As it is, I know of a number of Tesla owners who do a 100-140 mile commute each day, without compromise (round-trip, with plenty of charge left over for use later in the day). Some even enjoy a free charge while they are at work.

As for charging stations, there are plenty sprinkled around shopping areas and parking garages, but notable are the Tesla Superchargers, where you can get 170 miles of range added in just 30 minutes, for free! That’s a charge rate of over 300amps at 370volts! The number of Tesla Superchargers are growing at an astounding rate. By 2015, you can drive across the country, without much compromise of your direct route (right now you have to drive from the SF Bay area to Barstow and through Las Vegas to then go up to Salt Lake City). Here is an interactive map of current and future Supercharger stations. Keep in mind, at least for now, it’s free to charge your car at these stations so your trip across the US would effectively (ignoring tolls) be free, vs. approximately $500 for a traditional, but fuel efficient car. (By the way, the Tesla doesn’t need motor oil or transmission fluid, and brake wear is reduced due to regenerative braking.)





Honestly, I have more range-anxiety with my convertible gasoline car as I tend to put off going to the gas station until the EMPTY light comes on. At that point, I figure I have about 30 miles of range, but it’s variable. At least with the Tesla, it gets charged every night, and it is rare that we need to drive it far enough that “driving on fumes” is a worry. And don’t forget, you literally can charge anywhere where you find a power outlet (and have permission). It’s slow to charge at a regular 110v/15amp outlet, and a little faster at a 240v/30amp outlet – the ones that clothes dryers are usually plugged into. At our home we have a Tesla High Power charger that charges at 240v/80amps, which equates to about 58miles per hour of charge (we typically need just an hour or so per night ~ $3).

And here’s one other thought: as soon as we have solar panels on our house, we won’t be paying PG&E that $850 ($1600? once we have a second electric car), and will likely be getting paid for the extra electricity we generate!

Now back to my friend’s comment; if you’ve never driven a Tesla, you should. If you think that Tesla can’t possibly have the experience of Detroit and they’re building toys or impractical cars, you need to rethink that notion. (The best thing that Tesla could do is to give detractors a Tesla to drive for a weekend. But why would they? They’re selling them as fast as they make them.) This car may not be the perfect combination of a commute car + family daily errands car + long-haul vacation car. Two out of three isn’t bad, and with the savings you can just rent a car, a larger one with room for all your suitcases and camping gear, for that rare trip to LA or the Grand Canyon.

“Try it… you’ll like it.” Just don’t press the accelerator down too hard – for a sedan it has an unexpected race-car-worthy acceleration.

To preempt those who will point out the monetary and environmental costs of creating electricity, batteries or photovoltaic cells, I say: please go study the cost of wars and armed forces needed to secure and maintain access to oil fields, the cost of transporting oil across oceans, the cost of oil spills, the environmental cost of car emissions, and the many other recurring costs that impact each refuel of your car. After manufacture, electric vehicles could literally be powered by the sun or the wind, independent of fossil fuels.

The Pitchforks Are Coming… For Us Plutocrats – Nick Hanauer – POLITICO Magazine

•June 29, 2014 • Leave a Comment

This is what I’ve been saying.  And I too have been couching it as a a self-preservation argument so it doesn’t get discounted as a bleeding-heart do-gooder type of wealth redistribution.

“These idiotic trickle-down policies are destroying my customer base. And yours too.”

via The Pitchforks Are Coming… For Us Plutocrats – Nick Hanauer – POLITICO Magazine.

Is this domain for sale?

•May 3, 2014 • Leave a Comment

“Hey.  I see you’re the owner of that piece of land over there”, says the stranger, with the pulled down hat and covered face.



“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Is it for sale?”, he asks, gruffly, almost as if to disguise his voice.

“No, sorry.”

“I’ll give you $250 for it.”

“Huh?  No, it’s not for sale.”

“I don’t have a lot of money.  I need it for this great business I want to build.  Will you take $500?”

“No, it’s not for sale.”

A few days later, he shows up again.  “My partner says I should offer you $1,000.”

“Please tell your partner that it is not for sale.”

Another week goes by.  “My investors are going out on a limb and want me to pay you $5,000.”

“For what, the land?  It’s still not for sale.”

That happens about once a month week.  Except that they are trying to buy one of my domain names.

And I don’t know how many of these strangers are the same person, just coming back with different disguises.  I’ve had people who want one or the other domain for some new business idea.  I’ve had people who want to use one for their new band.  I had another who wanted me to donate one to their non-profit, but wasn’t allowed to tell me what they were doing.  I had another who wanted one as a gift for his son.  Yet another was trying to add it to a group of other unspecified domain names so that they could create a sentence with all the words (presumably for a marketing promotion run by a larger company).  Mostly I get students or so they say, who are working on a project that requires one of my domain names.

They all need to learn something.  If you’re coming to me, who has owned these domains for almost 20 years, and you want to buy a domain, then you need to come up with a more compelling story to get me interested.

Don’t tell me that I should give away a perfectly good domain so that you can build what will make you a billionaire.  I could care less.

Don’t tell me that I should donate my domain name unless your new business is going to bring health or peace to the masses and you can prove it.

Don’t write to me from seemingly temporary or new email addresses, without a real name attached, because not knowing that you’re some entrepreneur (who has or has no money) won’t make a difference in whether I will sell you my domain.

And if the only thing you have to offer is money, please, don’t bother me for anything less than 6-figures (USD).  Because I’ve already turned down a couple of those.

(I might, however, rent you a domain for 5-figures.)

Maximizing Driving Range, or, Making it to the Charging Station Without the Help of a Tow Truck

•April 13, 2014 • 1 Comment


Yesterday, I had to drive into the Sierras to celebrate a friend’s birthday.  Due to a confluence of events (which included putting two new colonies of bees into hives), but mostly my lack of attention to the actual distances and the amount of climbing involved, I found myself in the predicament of not knowing whether I would make it to the charging station, BEFORE running out of juice.

It started at the Folsom Supercharger – my journey actually started in the Bay Area, but the important part started in Folsom.  As I was headed up to Nevada City, some 50 miles away, I had to do a quick mental calculation as to how much energy I was going to need.  I was already late for the party so I didn’t have the luxury to just “top it off”.  I just needed enough to get me there and then back to my next destination, the Supercharger in Vacaville – another 90 miles.  I put enough energy into the car so that it indicated a range of 160 miles.  I knew my margin wasn’t that big, but I always had the same Folsom Supercharger to fall back to, if I needed to.

Having never been up to Nevada City, and also having never driven any electric vehicle up a mountain range, I wasn’t aware how much energy was going to be used just to overcome the climb to Nevada city.  When I arrived at my friend’s, the car indicated that it had 80 miles of range left, while the distance I had left to travel later was 91 miles.

Seeing that I had done a lot of climbing to get there, I assumed I could gain some range back as I went downhill, both from regenerative braking, but mostly from just using less energy when going downhill.  I didn’t worry myself – and I didn’t want to bother the host for an extension cord and outlet to charge at a measly 3-4 miles per hour.

When I left the party, at 11pm, some of my expectations turned out to be correct:  From Nevada City to Auburn, and from Auburn and on to about North Highlands, north of Sacramento, I lost less range than I gained in distance travelled.

  • At Aubrun: 60 miles of range left with 64 miles to go
  • At Rocklin: 52 miles of range with 52 miles to go
  • At North Highlands: I had 45 miles of range and 42 miles to go

I was quickly approaching a point at which it would not be possible for me to turn back towards Folsom’s Supercharger, as my backup to Vacaville.  I continued to monitor the displayed numbers, now also monitoring my 5, 15 and 30 mile usage averages to make sure I was still gaining on range vs distance left.  This is what that display looks like, although this image isn’t reflective of my trip:  

Energy Display (Click for more info)

After Sacramento, as the predominantly downhill freeway transitioned to more consisted flats, I noticed that my range was dropping faster than my distance travelled.  One thing that has been an unknown to me with this car is its efficiency at different speeds.  I know that when my wife drives it, which is the norm, she gets much more distance out of each overnight charge than I do. I like the powerful acceleration in this car – it’s way better than my 300 horsepower V8 – and utilize it, so I typically get 30-40 miles less per charge.  What this car doesn’t do, and it should, is to give you some indication of “burn rate” comparisons:

  • at current speed, you’re using x kWh (and your range would be m miles)
  • at 65mph you’d be using y kWh (and your range would be n miles)
  • at 60mph you’d be using z kWh (and your range would be o miles)
  • at 55mph you’d be using w kWh (and your range would be p miles)

It’s hard to figure those numbers out by observation since they are impacted by the incline of the road, the wind, and even the car ahead of you.

Over the next 40 miles, I reduced my speed to 65, then 60 and then 55 in order to keep the range estimate within a mile of the distance left to go.  But what helped even more, was drafting behind trucks and buses.  I first tried it with a Safeway truck, but I found that the driver’s speed and desire to pass cars, had me accelerating and decelerating too much so I gave up.  Next I drafted a large bus, which was fine, except that the bus driver obviously didn’t like me so close behind, and kept trying to change lanes to let me pass, tap on the brakes to see whether I was going to get out from behind and eventually I gave up, and let the bus pull away and leave me behind going at 60mph (it’s a bit surreal how fast other cars pass you when you’re doing 60mph). A double tanker provided me with 10 minutes or so of drafting, at a nice constant speed and that helped tremendously.

I finally made it to Vacaville with 1 mile of range left, and by the time I was parked at the charger, I was at 0.  Here’s what that looks like, since I assume no sane person would ever go so low to witness it for themselves:


This is my energy usage profile for the last 30 miles.  Not bad?




If you’re wondering if this was a very stressful situation, I have to say that it was, only until I told myself that getting a flat-bed tow-truck around Vacaville won’t be the end of the world and won’t cost that much – and I do have tow insurance.  I might have to sleep in the car while wait for the tow :-) With that decision made, the stress level dropped and this whole thing became more of an experiment.

By the way, for this of you who haven’t witnessed this, it is incredible how quickly the Supercharger charges the car – at a rate of 110kWh!  361volts at 300+ amps!  At one point the car was literally humming at a roar (I believe from the fans cooling the battery cells) – and you can also hear the hum from the big transformers nearby that power the charging units.


(This is image is from the Tesla iPhone app).

 One thing I was hoping to learn from this experience, and maybe I should be thankful I didn’t, is how the car behaves once it is completely out of juice.  I suppose that when it says 0 miles of range left, it doesn’t actually mean that the engine will shut off and the car will coast to a stop.  I sort of expected a message to the effect of “You are now running on reserve power.  Please find a safe spot to pull over and park the car.  Here are phone numbers for tow operators and mobile chargers closest to your location…”.

If you’ve experienced a complete shutdown due to battery depletion, I would love to hear about the car’s behavior leading up to it, and after.  (I’m assuming there’ll be some power left for locking and unlocking the car doors, etc.)

What I found in the main power panel…

•January 28, 2014 • 1 Comment

ImageFor the past week or two, I noticed that my spouse’s EV hasn’t had the battery levels that I normally expect to see, later in the day. Two days ago, I noticed the house lights brighten a bit, as usual, between 1 and 2 am, and quickly checked the charge level, and saw that it was at least 50 miles short of a usual charge.

I didn’t think much of it, assuming that I had to change the settings to have the car charge itself more fully (it lets you set a max charge level, and the manufacturer recommends a setting that is not too close to a full charge as that would shorten the battery life).

Last night, by the time I remembered to make those changes, the car had already finished charging (it is set to start charging at midnight, at a current of 80 amps). This time it was closer to 100 miles short of a regular charge. I tried to get the car to start the charging process again, using its iPhone app. The car acted as though it wasn’t plugged in. I walked to the car in the garage, and shortly realized that the wall-charger was not powered. I went to our house’s main panel, and the charger’s circuit breaker hadn’t tripped. I tried to toggle it on and off and it wouldn’t budge. And that’s when I noticed that telltale stench of burnt electronics. (what exactly is that?)

Later, in daylight, I opened the panel and saw the mess. Although I don’t have a picture of the panel as it was this morning, I do have the circuit breaker, which was replaced, and I am sharing some photos:


This is what I think happened. Due to the heat generated when 80 amps flows through this circuit breaker, the contacts on one side would expand enough so that an arc would occur between it and the panel’s power bus. This arc is what burned the circuit breaker. It’s either a defect in the circuit breaker, or the breaker isn’t fully compatible with the power panel ( I don’t think that the power panel and the circuit breaker are made by the same manufacturer – but who knows, they may have been built in the same Chinese factory).

I am not sure how long this was going on, but one thing I do know is that the charging unit, or the car, most probably noticed the erratic flow of electricity. And it did an admirable job of filtering out the problem and even ending the charging process when it detected some disturbance. But what it really should have done was to send me a little notice that, due to power fluctuations, it interrupted the charging cycle, and recommend that an inspection be performed. No?


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