Over the weekend, I got my absentee ballot in the mail: my ticket to participation in the Great American Democracy. I had thought that my participation in the Ohio primaries -- scheduled in the month of March, some time after the majority of the states have already held their primaries -- would be a formality more than anything. Which wouldn't actually have bothered me all that much. I've come to take pride in these "formalities," especially now, as an American citizen living abroad. But after significant gains over the past weekend for Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee, it seems like the race for the White House is still far from finished. Perhaps my participation in the Ohio primary is not so meaningless after all...

So does anyone have any great advice for me, as I consider my options in completing my absentee ballot?

In particular, if there's anyone else reading this blog from Richland County, Ohio, I would be much obliged for any information for me for Member of State Central Committee, Mansfield (19th District) -- between Jeff Wilkinson and Richard A. Cochran.  That particular race isn't getting much coverage here in Amsterdam.  :-)  And believe it or not, aside from a couple of other tax levies (which are pretty self-explanatory), this is the only other  real choice on the ballot, outside of the presidential primary.

Ohio is a place where farms, fields, and forests dominate the landscape.  Oh, don't get me wrong:  the good people of Ohio are proud of their cities, their factories, their centers of commerce... but it seems to me that Ohioans are most at-home in the great outdoors -- trolling the streets of their smalltown festivals, working on their yards (maybe raking leaves) or fields (maybe chopping and stacking wood for the fireplace), and enjoying recreation in the form of backyard football or pick-up basketball or capture-the-flag... Yes, Ohio is primarily populated by salt-of-the-earth people who work hard, eat well, and enjoy nothing more than a good ballgame, taken in with good friends in the sanctuaries of living rooms, sports bars, or stadiums.  Archetypical Midwest America.  "The Heart of It All," as the state's license plates used to proclaim.

It seems that my fondness for my home state has increased in direct proportion to the length of time in which I have lived abroad.  Where I was initially bashful about the stereotypical icons of Ohio -- weathered farmers blasting country music on their pick-up truck's radio as they bounce over dusty country roads in the middle of nowhere (for instance) -- I now find an inexplicable pride and joy welling up from within my old Ohio heart.  I've come to embrace this colloquial identity.  I've come to revel in the down-to-earth, rough-and-ready goodness of Ohio.  And as such, it only makes sense that I am now the proud owner of my first Carhartt jacket.

Carhartt jackets are an icon of rural Ohio, the Midwest, hard-work, rugged fun, the great outdoors...  Simple.  Tough.  Classic.  And they're just plain good coats, being exceptionally warm and durable (and no, Carhartt is not paying me to write this post!).  When I was growing up, Carhartt jackets were most popular among the FFA (Future Farmers of America) crowd at my high school, and among construction workers, area farmers, and white-collar weekend warriors.  Truth be told, I never desired to own a Carhartt coat or associate myself with its common working-man identity... However, in the last couple of years, and especially since moving to Europe -- as I've changed my perception of Ohio and of myself... and as such, I've been thinking more and more about outfitting myself in the classic duck fabric of a Carhartt jacket.

And since I was back in the United States over the last couple of weeks -- back in the land of shopping malls and outdoorsman's outfitters, back in the land of the not-nearly-as-almighty-as-it-used-to-be dollar (compared to the euro, at least, which makes all products bought in America seem considerably less expensive), back just at the beginning of the winter season, and back just when I was needing to look into getting a new winter coat... it only made sense that I would look into purchasing a Carhartt jacket for myself.  I tried one on for the first time in the Bass Pro Shop in the Cincinnati Mills Mall, and encouraged by the positive reaction of a couple of my Dutch friends who were able to judge its effect on the streets of Amsterdam, I decided to go for it.  It feels so silly and materialistic and sentimental... But I'm really proud of my new coat!

I'm glad that I came home to Amsterdam with my Carhartt jacket.  It's been lekker warm (nice-and-warm) against the wind, chill, and rain of the fall weather.  It's surprisingly fashionable -- in spite of its iconic American aura -- even on the streets of cosmopolitan Amsterdam.  But more than anything, it's a connection to "back home."  Novembers are typically tough for me in Amsterdam -- probably my least favorite month of the year.  No Thanksgiving.  No American football classics.  No reverent hush of the season's first frosts and snows.  Just a dark and dreary descent into the bowels of Amsterdam's gray, rainy, depressed meteorological calendar.  Especially having just left the cool, crisp, blue-skied, colorfully-foliated glory of October in Ohio -- the nefarious Nederlandse November looms large.  But for some reason, putting on my Carhartt jacket, pulling up the collar against the chill, seems to provide me with some sense of protection... some ability to persevere... some reminder of who I am, where I come from, and where I am going.

A sunny October day in Ohio... What more could a man hope for?  We had one free day in the midst of our conferences -- and we made the most of it.  The day started off at the H2O Fall Get-Away in Bellefontaine, Ohio, in the middle of beautiful fall colors.  Just stepping outside of the cabin to start the day, my heart was filled with gratitude for such a day...

Perhaps the most perfect way that such a fall day could be initiated was with shooting some baskets while the sun rose from behind the beautiful forest.

I even managed to sink a shot, synchronized to perfection with the camera's timed setting!

Shooting baskets by myself has always been one of my favorite ways to think and relax and enjoy physical and mental stimulation.  Starting off the day in this way was soooooooo nice...

I was especially blessed to hang out with some good friends from Bowling Green at the Fall Get-Away.  Furthermore, I got to introduce some of my Amsterdam friends to my Bowling Green friends and vice versa.  Somehow, I feel that it helps people to know me better if they can meet people from the "other half" of my life straddling the Atlantic Ocean.

It's hard to beat a chance to chew the fat with Jason Slack.  If only the time could have been longer.  Eventually, though, we needed to head on our way back to Cincinnati...

Before getting back to Cincinnati, however, the girls in the van convinced me into stopping at the world's largest flea market:  Trader's World, conveniently located just off of I-75, on the northern rim of Cincinnati.  It was a very bizarre place...

Ariënne, Eva, Marie Christine, and Naomi enjoyed trying on some vintage sunglasses in one of the stalls at Trader's World.

There was a little bit of everything to see at the flea market -- including rows of doll's heads, eerily arranged with their eyes facing outwards.  In the end, I was actually glad that we decided to stop.  It was such a unique spectacle.  So uniquely American!

Right next to Trader's World was a church with a giant fiberglass statue of Jesus, with his arms outstreched toward heaven.  It was absolutely massive (if you look around the cross in the above photograph, you can see the four Amsterdammers posing with their arms outstretched, to give you some sense of the scale).  Something about the setting -- right next to the interstate highway, immediately transposed with the spectacular consumerism of Trader's World -- combined with the sheer monstrosity of the statue itself and its bland dairy coloring led us to dub the statue "Cheesus."

Such a bizarre setting... Ohio has so many interesting facets.

I'm in America.  Together with nine Amsterdammers, I've travelled to Cincinnati, Ohio, for eight days of conferences with Equipping Ministries International -- learning interpersonal skills like listening and conflict management... and, in the meantime, enjoying a bit of the autumn season in my homeland.

I had a good trip over... amazing, actually, to see how enjoyable trans-Atlantic flight can be:  without kids... traveling during waking hours (the flight from Europe to America is always easier, from my point-of-view)... relaxed time frames between connections... content to enjoy the deliberate pause from e-mailing, telephone calling, and meeting with people.  It can be very therapeutic, actually.  I got to do a bit of reading (the USA Today, a few chapters from the Gospel of Luke, the interesting articles from the in-flight magazine, the early chapters of "Cannery Row")... I got to do a bit of journaling... I got to watch two moviews which I had been wanting to see:  "Evan Almighty" (which actually impressed me more with its theological insights and its effective pulling at emotional heartstrings, more than its pure comedic content) and "Ocean's Thirteen" (which is certainly not the most meaningful kind of film but nonetheless entertaining)... And all of that before noon (US time)!  What productive unproductivity!

Since landing in the States, my  body has paid for its respite, with interest -- in the form of jet lag and the vengeful return of my head cold which had been on its way out prior to my traveling.  Still, I'm glad to be here.

The conference has been great so far -- very insightful and informative, in spite of the jet-lagging-stuffy-head fog that surrounds me.  It's also been fun (and a bit surreal) to see my home state with several of my Amsterdam friends, but (up to this point) none of my Ohio friends.  There's still much more to come on this American adventure... But fo rnow, I'm just glad to be here.