Sure looks like there is room for one more up on that mount... Perhaps on Washington's shoulder?
This has been a long and exciting election season, and in this household, we are ready for new leadership. Beyond all the policy debate, beyond the endless cycle of news coverage, and beyond the proposals and promises of change, I am most eager for a new tone in this country. I have never been a part of something so energizing and hopeful, starting with the individual, and up through the family, neighborhood, community, and nation.
In February of this year, we arrived early to our primary polling location. It was the first time I had ever participated in a caucus, and probably the first time I ever attempted to arrive ahead of schedule. We were worried about turnout. We had heard that the numbers expected to attend could be higher than anticipated. We got the last parking spot in an overflowing junior high school lot.
We were greeted by party regulars, smiling and helpful. We were directed to our room, where we shared a table with strangers: an older gentleman who welcomed us to the district, a middle-aged man who appeared to have left straight from his job in order to make it to caucus on time, a younger man about our age who was interested to hear about our experiences - everyone eager to participate in the democratic process.
When it came time to vote, we ran out of paper. We ran out of pencils. We ran out of places to sit. We used scraps of paper to cast our ballots, and no one left the room. We counted our votes. We counted them again. We announced our district's choice for the nomination, a choice that was met with strong applause and a feeling of real accomplishment.
We stayed late to help clean up. We offered to volunteer for our candidate. In the future, we would host a neighborhood party where everyone would gather to meet the candidates, to talk about what was important to our district, and to decide how - working as a community - we could make a difference.
As we left that night, the parking lot began to clear out. We drove past cars parked along the old highway for over a mile. It may have been February in Minnesota, cold and dark at best, but we knew that this election was different. We all showed up to do our part, to participate in something great, to have a chance to vote for change.
We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people. Yes we can.
Barack Obama
Speech following New Hampshire Primary January 8, 2008.
Later in the evening some friends came over and started pulling canvas off the walls in order to paint me a masterpiece.
As Emily tried to take Wade home, I did my best to get in some extra things to tell Wade as he left. These "things" were so important that I neglected foot ware. Bye Wade.
by Wade, Emily, Erin, Erica, Dave, Nicole, Marlene, Lisa, and phallic touch ups from Jake. 
