Dayton Ohio

It stands to reason that less than 48 hours since I left Iowa, I would head out to Ohio. When I was a kid, some of my stupid classmates thought Iowa was Ohio spelled backwards. Some people will believe anything.
I did not spend any time in Ohio as a kid, except for a night every summer at the Toledo Turnpike Motel, or later the Red Roof Inn in Toledo. As you know, I lived in Iowa from 1st through 5th grades. Each year after school got out, my parents would drive me and my brother to Toledo, the halfway point to Massachusetts. There we would meet up with my grandparents, transfer our bikes and toys to their car, stay overnight, eat supper at Bobby Rubino's, say goodbye to Sandy our cocker spaniel and then drive on to Pittsfield, MA the next day. My parents would drive back to Des Moines, and then drive all the way to Pittsfield the day before my birthday. They would stay for a week, then we would all drive back home together.
So aside from a few trips to Cleveland for surgery video shoots, I have not really seen much of Ohio. That is still the case, as I arrived at 9:20 last night, went directly to the Marriott in Dayton, ordered room service, watched some of the terribly produced overly liberal Bush-bash known as from Earth to America, went to bed, woke up at 6am, went to the hospital, shot two very interesting Laparoscopic Ventral Hernia repairs, went back to the airport, and flew home via Reagan National.
Whew, that was quite a run-on sentence. Sorry Mrs. Clark.
So no great excitement, but I wanted to keep up with the travel diary and the assorted relevant childhood memories.