Amazingly, Kasich got ripped for deciding to give the speech away from Columbus.  Some groups said it was a waste of time and money.  One liberal “think tank,” ProgressOhio, criticized him for “breaking 200 years of tradition and running away to a small venue in hopes that no one will make the effort to travel there.”

ProgressOhio’s status as a “think tank” must be self-proclaimed, because there clearly wasn’t much thought given to their knee-jerk opposition to Kasich’s decision to take the State of the State speech on the road.  Since when does ProgressOhio care about “200 years of tradition”?  There’s nothing magical about having the State of the State speech in Columbus.  If you asked most Ohioans about the issue, they wouldn’t care where the speech is delivered — or even whether it is given at all.

Steubenville is one of many Ohio cities that has struggled in the past few decades.  Why not give Steubenville some time in the limelight?  Why not do something simple that brings visitors to town, causes them to spend some money at local restaurants and businesses, and focuses some attention on the Steubenville story?

I thought Kasich’s decision to give his speech in Steubenville was a small, but inspired, action on his part.  The reflexive opposition of ProgressOhio and similar groups, on the other hand, reflects nothing but the tiresome partisan politics as usual that most of us have grown to despise.

The Ohio Highway Patrol would prefer that the speed limit stay at 65; it contends that higher speeds result in more accidents and more serious injuries.  Some legislators note, however, that the Ohio Turnpike recently increased its speed limit to 70, without an increase in fatalities.  In addition, the speed limit on rural freeways in neighboring Michigan, Indiana, and West Virginia also is 70 m.p.h.  Why should Ohio be different?

I spend a lot of time driving on I-71 and I-70, Ohio’s principal east-west and north-south freeways, and I’m supportive of a higher speed limit.  For the most part, the Ohio countryside is flat (and boring) and the freeways are straight.  We don’t have mountains or winding roads that might counsel in favor of lower speed limits.

There are always going to be drivers who ignore the speed limit, whatever it is, and drive as fast as they want.  For those drivers, the posted speed limit is meaningless.  Why not let the rest of us law-abiding drivers make better time when we are driving through the rolling farmland between Cincinnati and Cleveland?

I’m happy for Mr. Tressel (although I will always think of him as Coach Tressel) and I have no doubt that he will do a good job for one of Ohio’s largest universities.  The NCAA “tattoogate” scandal that led to his resignation as Ohio State’s coach involved some unfortunate lapses in judgment on his part, but it shouldn’t mask his accomplishments with the Buckeyes.  Tressel not only took a moribund football program and quickly turned it into a powerhouse, he also made tremendous progress in the academic performance of his student-athletes.

I still respect Tressel’s efforts and achievements, even if I regret his missteps at the end of his tenure at Ohio State.  I suspect I’m not alone in that regard, and that many Ohioans will be interested in meeting with Tressel and hearing his ideas for the future of the University of Akron.  He’s an intelligent, hard working individual who dedicates himself to his job, and I’m sure he will bring those attributes to his new position.

I know one person who is thrilled to have Tressel in Akron:  Buckeye Bebe, who always has been one of his biggest supporters.  Aunt Bebe will be very happy to share the air of the Rubber City with the man who led the Buckeyes for so many years.  Who knows?  Perhaps they can meet and talk about football — or even strategic engagement.

But now my bird-sighting hopes are up, because there are reports that Snowy Owls have moved south from the Arctic Circle en masse and are being seen all over northern America. Every few years these magnificent, milky white, carnivorous birds have an “irruption” and fly south in large numbers.  In the Arctic Circle, they feast on lemmings.  Farther south, they look for mice, rabbits, and even ducks to provide sustenance.

The New York Times reports that they have been seen in the Great Lakes and the Ohio River Valley, which means they might just show up in New Albany, Ohio.  So, on my walks around the neighborhood, I’m keeping my eyes peeled for a flash of white as a Snowy Owl swoops down to grab its prey and carry it off for supper.  And if they want to snatch a Canadian goose or two, I won’t object.

To be sure, the tents have moved since I last visited Statehouse Square months ago.  They used to be right in front of the McKinley statue in the middle of the block; now they’ve been repositioned down the block to the south.

The “Occupiers” have a large white party tent, carefully taped to keep out the weather.  On the front is a big sign advertising their website, as well as an ersatz American flag in which the fifty stars have been cleverly replaced with corporate logos like McDonald’s and Chevron.  (Does that mean that corporations are taking the place of the fifty states, or that corporations are the true stars of the country?  The message could be misconstrued.)  I tried to check out the “Occupy Columbus” website shown on the large sign, but when I did Firefox sent me a warning saying that the website connection was untrusted and that I would be proceeding at my peril — so I decided the prudent course was to not satisfy my curiosity.

There were two people sitting behind the tents, enjoying the lovely weather.  Other than that, there seemed to be nobody there, and there was no other activity to be seen.  In short, “Occupy Columbus” is still there, occupying their little patch of Statehouse Square, but that appears to be about it.

A photo of an Ohio house during the Blizzard of '78

The Great Blizzard struck on January 26 and 27, 1978.  It blanketed Ohio with huge amounts of snow, followed by fierce winds and enormous drifts.  Fifty-one people died during the storm.  Traffic was paralyzed.  The National Guard was called out.  Businesses closed down, and people were stranded for days.

None of that mattered one bit to me.  I was a student at Ohio State University, and what I recall is that the Great Blizzard resulted in the ultimate of “snow days” for all OSU students.  The storm hit on a Thursday, and classes were promptly canceled for Thursday and Friday.  A four-day weekend, with no new assignments, at the start of a quarter!  We bundled up, bought all the beer and chips and snacks from all of the convenience stores in the campus area that were open, and settled down for a very long party.  There were colossal snowball fights just about everywhere.  People in my apartment complex who barely knew each other hung out listening to music, drinking whatever there was to drink, and then moving to another apartment for more.

When OSU finally opened again, and we trudged across the snowbound campus, I remember one of my friends saying he was glad that school was back in session because his liver needed a rest.

Along the Yantis Loop in New Albany, the wind had done its work, sculpting the drifted snowbank into a delicate, curving ridge against the fence line that stretched into the distance.

Anyone who thinks there is no poetry lurking in the souls of the bureaucrats in the Ohio Department of Public Safety hasn’t read the list of candidates.  It includes gems like “17th State,” “1st Traffic Light,” “Glacial Grooves,” “40,948 Square Miles,” “Happiness Is Here,” and “State of Perfect Balance.”  (Seriously!)  These options make you want to hop into your car and drive all night to visit our fair state, don’t they?  Or how about “Est. 1803″ — as if Ohio were a kind of hotel?  My personal favorite is the wondrously clueless “Recycle Ohio,” which if selected no doubt would be the source of sniggering amusement by Michigan Wolverine fans everywhere who read it as a command.

When you see this kind of exceptional creativity by our state government officials, it makes you perversely grateful that the license plates on most Ohio cars are completely covered with muck, ice, and road salt grime during the winter months.

In 2011, a surprising number of Senators announced they would not run for re-election.  The last was Senator Ben Nelson — the Nebraska Senator who was criticized, here and elsewhere, for shabby politicking in connection with the passage of the “health care reform” legislation.  In all, seven Democratic Senators will be retiring, along with two Republicans.  The retirement decisions make the current Democratic majority in the Senate particularly perilous, because Democrats are defending 23 seats this election cycle, compared to only 10 Republican seats that are up for challenge.

The Washington Post‘s political blog, The Fix, rates the most interesting 2012 Senate races, and one of its top 10 is incumbent Democratic Senator Sherrod Brown’s battle to win reelection against the apparent Republican challenger, State Treasurer Josh Mandel.  Ohio is always a bellwether, and the race between Brown and Mandel may tell us a lot about which way the country is leaning.

One thing is certain:  there will be a number of newcomers in the Senate in 2013.  This will be a good thing, because the current Senate has been an embarrassing, inert body that has virtually no accomplishments to its name.

The latest howls of outrage are directed at the decision to study possibly privatizing the Ohio Turnpike.  Is the opposition due to the fact that Ohio taxpayers will be paying more consultants to produce more studies?  No, of course not!  According to an email from Liz Walter, the Political Director of the Ohio Democratic Party, the problem is that privatization might cost public employee jobs.  Her email statest:  “Over a thousand employees – many of them union workers – could lose their jobs if he’s successful. That’s why our Congressional Democrats are doing everything they can to stand up for these workers and stop Governor Kasich’s latest assault on our middle class.”

So, any “loss” of a public employee job — even a conversion of a public employee job to a private sector job — is an “assault on the middle class”?  Doesn’t anyone in the Democratic Party realize how ludicrous that sounds?  If that attitude had prevailed throughout American history, we would still have flatboat operators and Erie Canal mule drivers on the public payroll.  If Ohio is to be competitive in the dynamic modern world, we can’t be saddled with the cost of paying workers to fill unnecessary legacy jobs.

I don’t think the Turnpike is some grand asset that we need to keep under government control as a matter of Ohio pride.  If privatizing a toll road through northern Ohio makes sense from an economic standpoint, we should do it.  Conditions change, and if those changed conditions result in the elimination of government jobs, so be it.

The sanctions were more severe than was expected.  The NCAA deprived the football program of scholarships, put the Buckeyes on probation for five years, and — most important to Ohio State fans — imposed a one-year bowl ban to take effect in 2012.  The ban means that Ohio State won’t be able to play in next year’s Big Ten championship game even if, as fans fervently hope, the Buckeyes bounce back from this year’s disappointing season with a strong performance in 2012.  Ohio State has decided not to appeal the ruling, because the institution has decided — correctly, I think — that we need to put this whole sorry episode behind us.

I don’t think Ohio State fans should be arguing about whether the NCAA sanctions were consistent with past sanctions and whether the media has it in for the Buckeyes.  That kind of pathetic excuse-making and eel-wriggling is beneath our flagship state university.  Instead, Ohio State alums and supporters should feel angry and embarrassed that our fine institution has had its reputation sullied by the thoughtless actions of a few players in the football program, and we should insist that the University do whatever it takes to make sure that it never happens again.

From the hyperbolic e-mails sent by Ohio Democratic Party Chair Chris Redfern, you’d think this was the greatest victory for representative democracy since the Revolutionary War.  Is it, really?  A Cleveland Plain Dealer article shows the new map and provides links that allow comparison to prior versions.  Are there material differences in terms of how the districts have been drawn?  Are those in the new map more soberly rectangular or geographically cohesive than those in the prior map?  Not so far as I can tell.  Both maps feature spidery and sprawling districts with notches and carve-outs than can be explained only by conscious decisions to move blocs of voters from one district to another in an effort to make a district more “safe” for the Democrats or the Republicans.

And that, at bottom, is what I find so galling about the redistricting process.  Our political classes view neighborhoods and communities like bricks to be moved from here to there, as if the voters who live in those areas will always mindlessly follow the same voting patterns.  Their goal is always to protect their parties and their incumbents.  Fortunately for everyone, voters aren’t robots.  They move from one area to another, and they change their minds about candidates and parties based on actual performance.  That’s why, despite the most carefully drawn redistricting plans, incumbents still can lose.

So forgive me if I don’t join in any hosannas about the changed Ohio map.  I’ll just trust the voters of Ohio, instead.  So long as they remain healthily skeptical of our political leaders and willing to evaluate their actual performance, the machinations of people like Chris Redfern and his Republican counterparts won’t irretrievably damage our state.

The Diamond Grille is found at 77 West Market Street.  The exterior is unpretentious — and the inside is no different.  It’s a throwback place, from the neon sign to the interior decor, unchanged and unaffected by the outside world, as if it were shielded from the ravages of time by some protective bubble.  Pass through the black double doors and you find yourself in days gone by.  It had special significance for me, because “the Diamond” was one of my father’s favorite places when we lived in Akron — and I’d wager the restaurant and its menu hasn’t changed much since our family moved from Akron 40 years ago.

The Diamond Grille specializes in steak.  In fact, this little restaurant is a temple of steak worship, where the cuts of beef are prime, big and juicy, and served to be savored by people who appreciate a really fine steak and a well-made cocktail.  Being there for lunch on a work day, of course, I really couldn’t reasonably exercise either of those options, so I went for the chopped steak and white bean soup — both of which were excellent and bursting with flavor.  Having lunch there just whetted my appetite for a steak dinner, with all the trimmings.

Come to the Diamond Grille for the Rat Pack atmosphere, if you want, but stay for the steak — you won’t be disappointed.