Ohio, Ohio, Ohio

It is now less than twelve hours until the polls open in Illinois, and a curious coincidence just struck me. Since I turned eighteen, I've gone to the polls in every election in which I've been elegible to vote, but all of those have been in Puerto Rico, and residents of Puerto Rico can't vote for the U.S. President.

Read more!¶ It's complicated; I'll explain later.

So this is the first time that I'll vote in a U.S. Presidential election. Now, the pundits are all claiming that Ohio will decide the election (via Dan Drezner). And it struck me: my first year of college—1992—I sat in a dorm lounge with my new-found friends and added up the states as they were called. We were young, we knew nothing of polls or predictions, so we were all anxiety and expactation. And then the networks called Ohio for Bill. We jumped into the air and laughed and roared and then we stormed the room of the dorm's Resident Head, who was from Ohio (her name was Lori, I think), and carried her on our shoulders through the halls as we sang of the end of the Reagan-Bush years. I don't even know if she was a Democrat.

That memory will get me though the night. OHIO, Ohio, ohio, o... hi... o... zzz.

¶ And the night after that...?

Zzz...