I can’t write that without getting goosebumps and watery eyes.  The memory of raising my arms in jubilation with about 250,000 people, one of which was my wife of 30 days, is one I will never forget.  It was almost like a combined sigh of relief for a moment most of us probably at at least one time doubted we would ever see.  As much as I supported Obama from before his announcement in Springfield, to believe that he actually was named president-elect?  It’s still a struggle.

I remember talking with Sarah and realizing that she was as excited as I was, and the anticipation on the ride downtown.  I was wearing a button my friend Kelly bought me – it said “Beer Brewers for Obama.”  While beer brewing is still a yet-to-be-achieved dream, it was a fun, eye-catching button to wear.  Sarah and I were in a crowd of supporters as we walked from the station to the park.  It wasn’t long before we hit Michigan Avenue and saw the first real glimpses of the enormity of the crowd.

We were quickly divided into two groups – people with tickets and those without.  As Sarah and I pushed through to the ticket side, mounted police appeared and the hustling crowd slowed to a crawl.  We chatted with people around us as we made it through the first check point.  Lots of people were being turned away and the crowd control staff was visibly overwhelmed.

Once past the first check point, we made lots of ground as we crossed Columbus Drive flanked by mounted police.  We thought we were moments away from finding our place in the park, but we were definitely wrong.  We again slowed, this time to a complete stop.  That’s when it started to happen.  Pennsylvania was called for Obama.  Expected, yes, but incredibly important.  A loss in PA meant this race was a lot closer.  That’s when we pretty much all knew all we had to hear was Ohio or Florida.

We moved in clumps in that crowd as the check point gradually let us move past.  As much as we hated just standing there, it made sense and worked out well.  More people were turned away at this check point, so once we made it through it was another chunk of ground we had to cross.  This time it wasn’t just cops lining the path – the first Secret Service officers and Obama staffers began to appear.  We were told repeatedly not to run, but we were all making that awkward speed walk that kids do when you tell them not to run.

Once we made it to the metal detectors, Secret Service outnumbered the Chicago P.D.  The lines moved quickly as we literally had every ring of keys, cell phone, and camera inspected.  It actually moved really quickly considering the circumstances.  We were the first of our group to make it the entire way in so we found the closest spot  we could.  That’s when we heard it – Ohio.  For someone who bore a little of the blame from my Minnesota friends in 2004, I took great pride in my home state’s decision.  I also knew that this was it.  Any path to victory for McCain went through Ohio, and Obama had blocked it like my friend Geoff and Corey block my longest road in Settlers of Catan.  We would have to wait several hours though until the west coast polls would close and networks could ethically call the race.

The crowd was in high spirits.  Even though the networks weren’t calling it, we were all talking about the importance of the Ohio victory.  They flashed a county map and I saw that my home county was blue.  I literally choked up.  I wondered how my parents had voted.  I wondered if my mom was physically able to vote after her surgery.  Sarah soon made a trip to grab us a couple slices of pizza and some water.  She also brought back some of our best friends.

As we stood there and watched CNN on the giant screen, we cheered the Obama victories and booed the McCain wins – even the obvious ones.  We watched as Obama got closer and closer to 270 and anxiously waited for the polls to close on the west coast.  We counted down the seconds.  And then it happened.  Wolf acted like it was just another projection, but he flashed the words President Barack Obama on the screen.  A wave of disbelief hit the crowd for a half of a second… then an explosion.  We yelled at the top of our lungs and raised our arms in the air.  I turned to Sarah and hugged her with tears in my eyes.  My friends came next.  They just kept showing it over and over.  Jesse Jackson cried.  Oprah was flipping out.  And we were all there together in Grant Park.

The last sound check operator walked ot the podium and said, “Last sound check for the next president of the United States.”  We went crazy again.  They showed McCain’s speech, which garnered a mix of responses.  The mention of Palin was pretty much the only part that drew a widespread negative reaction.  The announcer came over the PA and we cheered as a bishop walked out to give the invocation.  We cheered again for the pledge and national anthem.  Anticipation was at a fever pitch.

Then… music.  Stevie Wonder.  Brooks and Dunn.  Buddy Guy.  More and more music.  The end of each song was a tease.  We stood there in disbelief as Obama’s appearance was delayed.  It was as if it was Christmas morning and your parents were making you wait to open gifts.  And then, as we waited for another song to come on, there he was.  Obama poked his head out and made his walk to the podium.  I was in disbelief.  It was real.

I will always have the words of his speech, but the experience of standing in Grant Park on that night will be one I have to hold on to in only a few pictures and my memory.  Here is hoping the next four (or eight) years prove to be worthy of that night.

I had a chance to meet Bob Evans the summer before my senior year in high school. I was attending some summer camp at the University of Rio Grande near Gallipolis, OH, and Bob stopped by – wearing a cowboy hat and a Texas tie, of course – to share some stories from his early days as an entrepreneur. He told stories of getting into bar fights with Colonel Sanders (no joke) and talked a little about how ticked off he was with the direction his family took the restaurant chain after he retired. I know, you’re really jealous right now. All I wanted to do was thank him for his cinnamon hot cakes, which most likely were a creation inspired by all that is good in the world.

All that to say, Bob, you will be missed. Our encounter was brief, but you gave me an answer to the imposing group ice breaker question of “name 5 weird facts about yourself.” You also gave me a restaurant that I can take both my grandma and my girlfriend for a nice lunch, or an almost home-cooked dinner. When I’m back in southeast Ohio with my family and the question of where to grab a meal together comes up, they already know my answer thanks to your legacy, Bob. I hope God lets you open another restaurant in Heaven, because surely that is where your cinnamon hotcakes belong.

(this is what it will look like in Heaven when Bob is making me fresh cinnamon hotcakes)

I think I owe a lot of my fascination with science and the way the world works to a show on Nickelodeon in the mid to late 80′s. Before Bill Nye even thought about growing grass on a car, Mr. Wizard was showing me how to blow things up. That stunt of dropping candy into soda and making it erupt? Mr. Wizard probably discovered it first. He was that good. Sure, he would make the kids put on safety goggles so the exploding light bulb didn’t blind them all, but he was still cool – goggles and all!

Mr. Wizard, or Don Herbert, passed away yesterday from bone marrow cancer. He was 89. It can be tough to watch a childhood icon pass on, but Mr. Wizard will always have a special place in my heart.

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Regardless, as the Indians tear up the rest of the season in an effort to save face and build momentum for next year (just so they can let us all down again), the college football season has kicked off (HA!) and brought back the hope of a national title for all of the Buckeye faithful. We read the stats – every time the Bucks get ranked 1st in the preseason polls, they somehow stumble on their way to fulfilling that expectation. We watch the news to make sure a key player doesn’t get suspended for a game or arrested by campus security (still keeping my fingers crossed). We deflect the hate and embrace the target that gets placed on Brutus’ back. The Scarlet and Gray begins to flow through my body again and I get all giddy like a little kid the night before Christmas.

“What will the season hold?!” I keep myself awake thinking about the possibilities that lay ahead. A tough game in Texas next weekend with the opportunity to truly earn that No. 1 ranking, but making sure to keep an eye on the present and not looking past NIU.

I keep looking outside and realizing that it is gorgeous outside, and here I am.. inside… refusing to step away from the television. This is what football does to me. In full disclosure, during halftime, I flipped to the US Open to catch up on tennis. I just needed a few minutes of non-football and I attribute that to poor conditioning in the off-season.

GO BUCKS!

I knew that this trip home was going to be an emotional one, but thankfully I had some amazing friends to keep me company. I found out that it wasn’t my dad that was with Maggie when she was put to sleep; it was my brother – the little guy definitely stepped up. I kept waking up expecting to find her passed out in the living room, but my sister’s ugly cats provided a little bit of entertainment to keep my mind off of things. Seriously – these cats are ugly.

I kept thinking all weekend that if it wasn’t for a series of events that were completely in my control a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have been home and the wedding wouldn’t be happening. Three lives were completely changed because of decisions I made, and there was a lot of hurt and distrust that could still be felt in the awkward moments this past weekend. Thankfully, God is bigger than me. Joel and Jen are currently enjoying the beauty of the Dominican Republic (and all things involved with a honeymoon and starting life together) and I couldn’t be happier for them. I feel like the people that matter in this whole situation have all moved on, and we’ve all grown and learned from the situation. I’m really looking forward to the day where our friendships have completely healed and reconciled and I have no doubt that this is in all our futures.

Seeing Becky, Corey, Geoff, and Becca was, of course, more joyful than I can put into words. I wanted to wrap them all up and stuff them in my carry-on lugage and haul them back to Chicago with me. I would have tried to bring Jen and Joel, but things would have been tight in my pack and they have better things to be doing right now. Joel – do you hear that? If you are reading my blog right now, you have BETTER THINGS TO DO.

I think the only downside to the weekend was the lack of time with the family. They made it home on Friday night but I was out of the house and didn’t really see them until I was packing up to leave on Sunday. I think I’m going to have to make another trip home soon. Leaving them in the airport was tougher than it has been in a while, and I think it was because of the lack of time together. Jimmy Carter wrote this amazing book of short stories called Sharing Good Times, and he spent most of it relishing the importance of spending time with your family. My Aunt Mosey gave it to me as a Christmas gift a couple of years ago and I think she knew exactly what she was doing when she picked it out. There are so few opportunities for what I am trying to do in SE Ohio, but it is tough being so far from the people most important to me. I think at least my mom and grandma will be visiting before the end of summer – maybe I’ll get lucky and the whole fam will make it up.

Other than that, I haven’t really reconnected with a lot of people since making it back on Sunday. My roommate and I have seen each other for maybe a half hour total, and everyone else is caught up in trying to stay cool. I did get to see Nate who gave me his old bike! YAHTZEE!

I also managed to sign up for myspace and buy an Xbox 360 at some point. I’ve made a promise to myself to commit the same amount of time to the bike as I do to the 360. We’ll see how long that lasts…

We finally agreed that Maggie would be a good name for our new puppy, and we all fell in love.  For the most part, she was kept in the laundry room, which would help with the potty training due to the laminate floor.  As she became house trained, she was allowed a little more freedom, even spending the night in my bedroom.  Maggie and I grew pretty attached, and she spent most of my high school years snuggling up against me every night.  When I went away to college, my mom would often tell me about how she would spend a lot of nights cuddling up with Maggie and crying.  When I would come home, I always knew that I would be greeted by Maggie and most likely the excitement would be too much for her.  My family quickly realized that they would have to let her out of the house to prevent stains on the carpet when I came home.

Even in the past couple of years as old age and arthritis began to set in, Maggie would still be there to greet me when I came home.  I almost feel like she was putting up a front for me, trying to keep her pain hidden.  At some point, she developed a growth on her neck that the vet claimed was just a harmless fatty tumor.  Just looking at her and listening to her breathe, you could tell her body was failing her.  The last time I was home, she snuggled herself up against me and I knew that it was going to be one of the last moments I spent with her.

Maggie became a very protective dog, barking like crazy whenever people would visit; I think it was the cocker spaniel in her.  My friend Glen would come over and bark back, something that eventually won Maggie over as well.  Her protectiveness soared to new heights the times I had a girl visit, with very few winning Maggie’s friendship.  The friendship could be bought at a cheap cost though, as long as you were willing to give up your pizza crust or a few Fruit Loops.  I know you’re not supposed to give dogs table scraps, but how could you resist those big brown eyes?

There was the time that we decided that we would take her out to my grandparents’ farm to see if she really did have enough beagle in her to go rabbit hunting.  She disapeared after the first shot and the rest of the morning was spent hunting for Maggie.  We thought she was gone, until my dad found her huddled in a thick stack of thorns.  Anytime hunters fired a gun in the woods behind our house, Maggie would find some place to hide, usually under the bed in my room.  A couple of years ago she was outside when a couple of hunters spooked her.  She disappeared for almost a week, showing up at the front door covered in dirt one morning, which gave my mom a chance to call me and wake me up with some great news.

There are so many more memories, all of which are just a little too much to handle right now.  It’s completely amazing to me how close we can attach ourselves to our pets.  I’m flying back to Ohio on Thursday for a wedding, and I know that when I walk through the door, there won’t be a panting, peeing dog to greet me.  I won’t hear her bark when I pull in the front drive, and I won’t get a chance to rub her belly when I leave on Sunday.  If I decide to chip golf balls in the field, I know I won’t have a lazy dog following me around.  My dad told me that a different vet said it was the growth on her neck that did eventually lead to the decision to have her put to sleep.  I keep thinking of her laying on the vet’s table, with my dad there, helping to keep her calm and see her off, and that’s when my eyes start to well up.  I know I’m being selfish, but if she could have waited just one more week, I could have been there too.  She was in so much pain, I keep telling myself, it’s better that they did the procedure when they did, but I need to stop thinking about it right now.

Anyway, she may not have been the most beautiful dog in the world, but we loved her.