A little hometown pride.

Growing up in a little town like Waldo was a bit of a mixed bag. As a child, Waldo was an idyllic playground begging to be explored, with adventures only limited by the extent of my imagination. Every barn, a foreign country. Each creek, a mighty river. I could walk home from school or bike to the Dairy Bar for an ice cream without a second thought.

Then, as a teenager, those same surroundings became an almost unbearable prison sentence, the one thing standing between me and my big, bad future. I plotted my escape, counted the years, then months, then days, and never looked back.

Now here we are, a couple decades (!) later, and the little hometown of my youth has become the perfect reminder of history and of family.

Just — please — do us a favor and resist the urge to ask Where’s Waldo? Because now you know.

Go ahead. Wiki it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waldo,_Ohio

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