What's yours? Here's mine:
1976 (first year I was eligible): Carter (not actually sure I voted, though). In any case, I remember sitting in my car drinking beer at Hubley Bridge near Mason City at daylight the day after the election, and thinking, "A New Day Has Dawned."
Was I right, or was I right?
1980: Carter. I was in the (long-defunct) Hotel Lincoln with my mom and some of her friends, including the really hot mistress (in her early forties then, probably) of a local doctor. She lived around the corner from my mother. The election results were on the TVs, and I said, not quietly, and in reference to Reagan (duh): "Fascist!" The hot mistress (a Dem) chided me for my extravagant language. I subsided. Even then I loved hot mistresses.
Not that I ever had one.
1984: Mondale. What can I say? He looked like me.
1988: Dukakis. He didn't look like me, but he made me hot by wearing that tank helmet.
Am I revealing too much about my ambiguous sexuality? [Intra-update: I mean "ambivalent" there, don't I? Wordsmithin' 'R' Us.]
1996: Clinton. I loved Billy till the day he left office. I remember Susan's comment on the revelation of the Bubba-spermed dress: "Billy, Billy, Billy." Like chiding a wayward child. It didn't matter. We still loved him. I thought his SOTUs were masterpieces of governmental caring. And I cared that the government cared.
2000: Gore. In any future rational government, I hope I'm executed (in public) for that vote. I remember saying to one of my many sisters that I couldn't stand Bush's eyes: they were so weirdly close-set. And her telling her husband (a Jew and a conservative) how I agreed with her that Bush was shifty-looking and just plain weird.
2004: Bush. Lesser of two weevils. And guess what? He won the Iraq war. Mebbe.
2008: McCain. Strongly disliked the man, but, please, anyone paying attention knew Obama was a fraud. I loved the election of the first (self-described) black president, but man, is he a loser.