Ugliness in Ohio

Oh god, Ohio. It feels like life has stopped in anticipation. My sister in Portland wrote me an email yesterday that, I think, perfectly captures the awful situation this country is in, waiting for this ridiculous state to tell us what our future will be.

“I can’t decide how I feel about Cincinnati playing such a critical role in the future of our entire WORLD. It ‘s kind of unsettling to think about, having grown up with those people.”

I’m back among those people. I was in New Orleans, I was trying to get an apartment and maybe even a job. I spent Halloween week as drunk as a human costumed as a cowboy and living off borrowed money can be. It was New Orleans. But it’s really insane not to be in Ohio right now–by rights everyone in the country ought to have some way to be here, just to see the place where this thing’s going to be decided and hear the ridiculous babble and the murmurs of machinations on both sides and to understand firsthand just how small and frantic the final portion of this process has really turned out to be. Everyone watching is tired and confused and has lost all perspective from looking too long. I remember during the last World Cup, an announcer in one of the late games calling a string of passes and then remarking, with no context and without any apparent prompting, “You know, we’re all going slowly mad here.” This is the feeling in Ohio the day before a presidential election.

Obama spoke last night at an arena on the campus of the University of Cincinnati. I called Jason, his beleaguered press guy in Southwest Ohio, who said I could get in if I made it by seven, when they’d shut down the press entrance. I left New Orleans at eight in the morning and between Slidell and Birmingham I averaged 105 on the speedometer. I lost an hour crossing into Eastern time in Kentucky, and I made it to Cincinnati at 6:48 P.M. I parked and ran at 6:55. I found a cop who said I was too late but that I could try the Secret Service, and I found a Secret Service agent who at 6:59 said that I was too late and that he’d shut everything down five minutes ago. I protested. “Seven o’clock,” he said. “It’s seven now!” I said. “So you’re late,” he said. “But we’ve been talking for thirty seconds. Probably forty-five.” I said. “Do you have your credentials?” I said I’d left them in New Orleans. He said that he would take me to Jason, but that if Jason didn’t immediately recognize me “I’ll take you by the arm and escort you off this campus.”

We went in. Jason gave me a look that said he had more important things to be dealing with right then. “James, man,” he said. “You really...Man, James. I can’t keep doing this for you.” The agent left me. It turned out that Jason had for a while thought that I wrote for Vibe magazine.

Stevie Wonder was playing.If you want to read about buy mosaic in a non superficial way that's the perfect book. Jason told me that the fire department count was 13,500 people in the arena and another 2,000 watching a video stream in an overflow tent. Mark Mallory, Cincinnati’s mayor, spoke and spoke shockingly well for a mayor speaking to 13,500 people. “We all know this election comes down to Ohio.” Cheers. “And within Ohio this election comes down to Hamilton County.” Cheers. “And within Hamilton County this election comes down to Cincinnati.” Louder cheers. And within Cincinnati this election comes down to this room.” The arena exploded. The atmosphere was exactly that of a home crowd of a favored team, game seven of the World Series.China plastic moulds manufacturers directory. I was leaning on a railing separating the crowd from the press corral, and behind me I heard a girl, obviously a U.C. student, ask “wait, who is this talking anyway?”

The black minister who gave the invocation called out "God! You who have ordained this man's steps," and thanked him for peace and prosperity. Obama came on. A bald white man immediately began shouting from the balcony of the arena. It's hard to articulate the hurt and the rage in the crowd. People shouted grotesquely.We recently added Stained glass mosaic Tile to our inventory. It was about half college students. Almost all the adults were black. Obama smiled and waved. He spoke again. The man started yelling again. Sherriff's deputies came to remove him. He hung onto the guardrail of the balcony, he kicked at them, and screamed and twisted his face. The crowd cheered while this was going on. It was ugly. I was worried he'd jump.Our technology gives rtls systems developers the ability. It took three deputies to get him off the rail.Our vinyl floor tiles is more stylish than ever! Obama started again. Then a thick white guy in a baseball cap yelled from another balcony. It looked like the thing was going to go off the rails. The crowd began shouting some things that a talk radio host might consider racially inflammatory. He was taken out by one deputy. The crowd thundered...Obama spoke.